Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Two Days In One P.I.'s Life

It is an odd thing. Summers are slowest in the personal injury business. So there's usually some downtime.
Not this year. At least not right now.

Record heat levels in the Northwest left people hot under their collars. 7o something days of no rain, that's a big deal here. The hotter people get, temperatures flare, cases ignite. Triple digits triple the threats.

As people heat up, they stress more and either hurt themselves or others.
Shooting, stabbings, beatings.
Pills, booze, heavy drugs turn party animals into primal beasts.
Teenagers race souped up cars.
Good Old Boys go bad and motor their boats intoxicated.
Overloaded patios collapse.

People are often the problems.
They knowingly or unknowingly set fires. They lie, steal, cheat, abscond, abuse, misuse others and the money of others.
They maim, mutilate and kill.

People are also often the victims.
In crosswalks, they become rag dolls.
Couples on motorcycles are flattened, broken, sent flying... any and all of the above.

So it was a long day starting a few days ago when I last posted Sunday.
Calls came in through the night, for cases Monday.

The first, a handsome man, Mike, in his 40's. Driving his BMW on the freeway about 60 mph when he was hit by a semi with bad brakes going about the same speed. Mike was smashed into the car in front of him which was stopped. He was not a happy camper as we sat down and he told me the details.

Mike was cut out of the car with jaws of life.
I told him it was a miracle he was still alive. He said the State Trooper said the same thing.
His face and head showed no injuries.
However, he did not come away unscathed.
Torn vertebras in neck, 2 herniated discs in back, broken elbow, fractured sternum,
broken ankle and two broken fingers.

I asked the usual questions. Facts of accident. Pre-existing conditions. Prior accidents. Date of Birth. SSN. Married. Single. Significant Other.

He told me about his impending divorce . How insane his ex-wife is. How she was and is threatening him. He told me she is a Meth Head now. She used to be brilliant he said, until some guy she met on the net turned her onto Meth.

I asked if there are kids involved. He said no. I told him that's good, very good.
Mike agreed and said if she gave him any troubles in the divorce, he'd post some nude pictures of her all over the internet. He said he was laid off his job two months before the accident and now, between his ex and this injury, he was depressed and sinking fast.

Mike asked me if I thought the lawyers could get him a settlement from the accident. I said if liability were clear, and the insurance money was there, yes. Though I said I had no clue how much. And he probably wouldn't get his settlement until he was better and ready to settle or go to trial.

I also advised him to tell no one about any potential settlement.
I told him, as a single man and an attractive one at that, he's got a target on his shirt.
He laughed and said he joined a divorce support group and women have been swarming all him.
He said in three months two women proposed to him.
He said the accident made him a woman magnet.
I gave him my business card and told him to marry no one... to invite no one into his home to live... without letting me run running a background first.
Now, I said, you have an investigator in the family.
He liked that and laughed so hard he started to cough in pain.
Which reminded him to to tell me he also had three broken ribs.
I told him I am glad he is in one piece -- sort of one piece -- and would advise the attorneys not to make him laugh because it hurts.
He laughed again.
I wished him well and moved on.

In the heat... I headed north up I5 to the ferry home. We road warriors monitor the traffic closely. So last night, I heard the Kingston ferry was "down" one ship -- not as in "sinking down," just out of order. Which meant a minimum three hour wait in line before the 20 minute crossing home.

I decided to head home south from Seattle to Tacoma, then head West across the Tacoma Narrows bridge, through north Bremerton and onward. I watched the battleships lined up at the Bremerton Naval base while keeping my eyes on the curved highway and notoriously dangerous concrete barrier to my left when another attorney called.

Can you be in Port Angeles tonight, the attorney asked?
Something very bad has gone down there he said. We don't want to wait until Wednesday and you are booked tomorrow. He described the case and I agreed.
Told him it would take a few hours, to tell his client I'd be there, hopefully, before dark.

I drove past the Poulsbo exit towards home... hung a left over the Hood Canal Bridge.... then onward, past Sequim, through Port Angeles, up 101, into the forest. With the assist of my G.P.S., I found my way to my next stop, Diane's house, just before dark.

Diane was on the back of her boyfriend's motorcycle when a guy in an SUV that turned into Wal Mart turned into them instead. She had a broken back, a broken leg, a fracture in her neck. She's a single mom, a widow, with four children between 11-17 who live with her and rely on her for their every need.

We were surrounded during the interview by three of her of four children. They are worried about their mom and listened to my every word intently. The kids informed me they have lost their cable and just got donations to keep the power on. They said the Food Bank is keeping them fed.

Their mom Diane was home because the hospital didn't want her when they realized she had no auto or health insurance. She needed help, someone told her about a big time Seattle attorney who was good for motorcycle cases. That would be the attorney who called me.

The person who hit their motorcycle was cited by the police. She showed me the police report, the citation. She showed me the police officer's narrative. The scene sketch. I studied the bike, which was on a pick-up in their backyard. Diane told me the motorcycle driver, her boyfriend, was still in the hospital. His foot was nearly severed. She said he also wanted the lawyers to represent him.

I told her the lawyers would represent her and discuss what to do later about representing the the driver. She was a passenger, passengers are not at fault. They needed to review my case, the evidence, to determine whether they could do what is called a multiple representation.

When any issue of fault is involved, good lawyers usually sign only one party at a time in a multiple representation until liability is accepted by the Defendant's insurance company.
Often drivers are blamed for accidents when they are not at fault.
So good attorneys can not or do not sign a driver until they see evidence, solid concrete evidence, of no liability.

Attorneys also have to be sure there is enough in the policy to cover the first client who contacted them.
And they have to see whether the DEF's insurance company will favor one claim over another.
The attorney does the deciding about multiple representations, I told Diane, not the investigator.

I also explained motorcycles in WA state are not required to have vehicle insurance.
The one she was on didn't.
However the car that hit the bike she was on did. That insurance company would be the Defendant.

I told her I hope the lawyers find plenty of insurance money for her medical bills in the DEF's insurance policy. I also added there are no guarantees in the legal business.

I took photos of her injuries. Her back brace. Her road rash. Broken legs. Swollen, ugly, foot. I photographed the motorcycle, blood covered. I had her pose with her brood. I asked a few more questions, had her sign some releases and said my good-byes.

The drive home wasn't fun. It was dark.
I, the auto accident investigator, knew drunk drivers come out at night. I felt particularly paranoid and haunted by on-coming lights, or tailgating drivers, on the long lonely stretches of highway along the Olympic Peninsula. I crossed the bridge to the Kitsap Penninsula, hung a left, slowed to 25 mph while I drove through Port Gamble then felt the weight of the world lift as i turned left onto the long dark dirt road leading to our safe house.

I made it home late, stumbled in the door, decide not to blog. Not last night. Two calls to return, one involving an airlift. Two cases to write up.

Up again this morning. 5:00 alarm, 5:50 ferry.
On auto-pilot.
This woman... oh, so sad. She was/is Gramma. Everybody's Gramma.
She was in a crosswalk walking to the supermarket on walk signal.
Loads of witnesses.
DEF ran red light and ran her over.
Broke her knee, ripped her rotator cuff, head injury, and possible broken hip.
We met in her living room. She was sobbing.
She said the woman who hit her stood over her while she was lying on the street and said, "Get up you faker. Nothing wrong with you! You lie. You big faker!"

Some Good Sams on the scene, surrounded the DEF and told her to shut up.
Other Good Sams protected our client, Gramma', till the State Patrol arrived.
She was airlifted to Harborview.

She too was released too soon because she too can not afford health insurance. Though she does have Medicare, she'll need more money than they'll fork out for her care because of the third party claim. Her daughter agreed to take her in. Her daughter works full time.
Because Gramma's best friend used the same lawyer who sent her to the attorney who sent me, she felt good I was there.

I explained her rights, explained the statute of limitations. I got her doctors' names and contact info, the police report, the works. I told her not to hesitate to go back to the ER if things worsen. To see her doctor ASAP.

I told her not to talk to the DEF's insurance company any more. That would be her attorney's job. Her job, I said, was to get well and keep the law firm advised.
I told her to try to relax, take her pain pills, keep her legs elevated, watch Jerry Springer and know she has a good attorney who will fight for her rights to be made whole again.
One more round of goodbyes.
And now... this blog.
Then cases to write up.

Tomorrow, I investigate a stray bullet that nicked a spinal chord. Don't know what I can do for that one. It doesn't look promising.
Gang bangers do not have insurance, assets or I.D.'s. People tend not to squeal on others.
Still, I will investigate... just in case the shooter was in a car that happened to be owned by someone who happened to have insurance.
Just in case.... the shooter happened to be drunk and over-served at a bar with a video camera before he got in the car and shot.
Maybe the police will tell us more.
Every day, every case, is a complex mystery to be unwrapped.

Understand please, these are not TV people.
These are our neighbors, our friends, our family members.
I represent the living and the dead.
They are all Victims. Plaintiff's. The Injured. The Damaged.
To no fault of their own. Zero. Zip. Nada.
They need a voice.
And they need money for medical bills, future medicals, lost wages, pain and suffering.

That's what civil attorneys and their investigators hope to find and provide.
And that's what I hope this blog will show you...
that the underbelly of this business is dark, yet there is light.
That there is hope.
That there are people out here fighting for the rights of the injured who are too weak to fight for themselves.

We take pride in the pride we restore to our broken clients.
Perhaps that's really why we private investigators... and personal injury attorneys... do what we do.

2 comments:

  1. OMg how sad. You are such a victims advocate and have Keith's heart of compassion and zero in, to the heart potency. There are no words adequate enough for such TRUTH and COMPASSION.

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  2. And, you have been there. Nuff said.

    ReplyDelete