Car Accident, Court Case, and Karma!(Radrook) Car Accident Court Case Karma!


Driving a car brings great responsibilities to both ourselves and others who assume that we know what we are doing and that we have been granted a license because at the very least, we are not insane. Unfortunately, such expectations don’t always jive with reality, since there seem to be some drivers who either don’t really know what they are doing, or else have some kind of emotional condition which prevents them from driving a car properly. This is about one of those whom I encountered. Here is how it happened:

I was driving home with wife and kids after buying groceries and abiding by the recommended 35 MPH and listening to pleasant music on the car CED player. There was a long line of cars to my left that were waiting for the green light in order to make a left turn into the Market Street, and 29th street intersection. Nothing unusual and absolutely no big issue. After all, two solid yellow lines on the pavement to their right, indicated that no right-turn was permitted. So I assumed that none of those cars was suddenly going to pull in front of me. Well, I was wrong.

Suddenly I see this driver ignoring those solid lines car at approx. 50 feet and slowly pulling out to block my way. In a flash I realized that if I braked. then I would slam into it and injure people inside. I couldn’t swerve left because of the line of cars. I couldn’t swerve right because of a ditch next to a cemetery. So I decided to accelerate in order to get past it. As two thirds of my car I went past, I assumed that I had been seen and all danger was over. Not so.

Suddenly I felt that car slam against may car's back door. Of course, I expected the car to stop accelerating after such an impact. Not so! It kept pushing my car towards the ditch and the cemetery, its wheels maliciously spinning even after we came to a stop. It was as if the driver had been vehemently enraged.

After it finally stopped, I got out of my car and notice a stout middle aged female and a skinny one standing by the car that had just crashed into mine. I slowly and walked over to the skinny lady who was silently acting as if she was the driver, and calmly ask: “Was that necessary?” “I don’t have to talk to you.” she immediately shot back, “I decided not to talk to you even before you were walking over. So I am not going to talk to you”

“I’m just asking a simple question.” I said, totally surprised by her angered reaction.

The elderly stout lady, who turned out to be the driver's mother, then decided to jump in:

“Well, you started it by coming over here with an attitude!” she snapped.

All the time, her skinny assed daughter was waving hellos to friends in other cars that were passing by, and they were saying:

“Do you need any help?”

In other words, in their eyes, I was to blame for the whole thing simply because it was their friend who was involved. So I decided to wait for the police to arrive in order to prevent myself from getting physically attacked by her, her mother and their friends.

When a police officer arrived, and after briefly listening to my account of what had happened, he went over and had a very friendly private chat with the ladies. Then he wrote a report omitting all the details indicating that they had been at fault, while glaring over at me as if I were to blame. So there was no use in striving to reason with him since he was obviously biased. In fact, arguing with him might just give him the excuse he was probably hoping for to billy-club or mace me.

But that wasn’t the end of it, it turns out that lady involved was also vehemently opposed to my insurance company, or hers, providing any type of coverage for my car’s repair, and was stubbornly interfering with the process by lack of cooperation in responding to requests for details. So I was forced to take the whole thing to court. Since she was so adamant in her need to prevent me from getting insurance help, she spent a full 1000 dollars to hire a lawyer just to make sure. Prior to the trial I phoned her to remind her of the scheduled court appointment and to ask her why not simply cooperate to avoid all the hassle. She barked back:

“I don’t want my insurance, nor yours to help you with the cost of repair, and that’s all I have to say! As I said I don’t have to talk to you.” and hung up.

When I got to the courthouse, there she was sitting with her lawyer. Both had this smug look on their faces. You know, the look that one has when one considers another person an inferior, illiterate ignoramus incapable of speaking or understanding the language spoken in the country he lives in? That type of insulting look.

As I took a seat in the courtroom to wait to be called, I could see them both sitting to the far right with the same smug, attitude glancing over whispering, and even chuckling now and then over some private joke concerning my chances. Or perhaps even believing that their antics were intimidating me? You know, like Burt Lancaster was subjected to intimidation in the film “Valdez is Coming” Wrong strategy!

Unknown to them, I had been taking classes in cogent reasoning, and had meticulously examined all the details of the traffic-laws relevant to the accident. I had also taken photographs of the accident-scene demonstrating clearly what had been demanded of those on the left of the line that she illegal crossed. I had also brought along a traffic-law book that clearly explained what those rules were.

As I reviewed the information in the book and began taking down copious notes, this other fellow whom, I assumed accompanied them, sat beside me, glancing now and then at what I was doing and reported back to the lawyer. Reaction? They just chuckled. I guess they must have assumed I really wasn't understanding what I was reading or else if I was, then surely I lacked the ability to express it coherently and convincingly in English to the judge.

Finally, after approx. half an hour, we were called to present our cases, took the oath and sat down. I noticed that the judge, an African American woman, kept glancing over at the lawyer and his client as they were chuckling. Finally, after hearing their side of the story, I was told to present my evidence:

First, I quoted directly from the book of traffic laws. Then I presented the photos where the incident took place. The judge asked her whether the photos were correct. She confidently admitted they were and that what I described was exactly what had happened. That’s when her lawyer approached the bench with this sudden worried look on his reddish face. Began shaking his head in frustration. Went back to his seat and suddenly the chuckling was gone along with the smug looks.

But that wasn’t the only thing that she did to cut her own throat. When the judge asked why she had rammed my car, she responded with:

“I ran into him cuz he was tryin to get past me. ”

“Did you look over your right shoulder to see if any oncoming traffic?” the judge asked.

“No, I had my mom do that and she said she dint see nuffin.”

“Do you realize it is your responsibility as the driver to look for yourself and make sure, instead of having your mom do it?” the judge continued.

“Yeah but she said she dint see nuffin so I turned right!”

The judge shook her head as if unable to fathom how someone could actually be so dense as to provide that kind of testimony in court. Then she continued:

“So you are in court today, it says here, because you don’t want him to get coverage?”

She silently nodded a yes.

“WHYYYY?” after a brief silence, the judge finally asked leaning forward in her seat and glaring down at her. Why do you feel that Mr. Diaz doesn’t deserve to get any type of coverage?”

To that question she remained silent, of course, since there really isn't any decent response to it.

“Case for the defendant!” the judge announced, the gavel fell, and the court- session was through.

I glanced over at her lawyer and his brain-dead client, and he seemed to be berating her for getting him into a hopelessly lost case.

“You never told me that you were on the left side of that solid line!” I heard him say to her.

Then he came over to me, shook my hand and said. “Good job!” while the skinny wench and her stout mom stood by looking thoroughly confused. Later on I went up to her and said:

“You see, you could have saved yourself that 1000-dollar lawyer's fees by simply cooperating.”

She looked totally abashed and didn't answer. I guess she felt I didn't deserve a response and that responding would somehow demote her.

I wonder if she ever admitted that it was karma. Judging by her total inability to reason, I seriously doubt it.

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