Becca and I were taking our first big trip together since we had kids nearly ten years ago. We went to Japan (highly recommended!). While we were in Takayama, a beautiful mountain town, Becca called her parents, who were in Washington, D.C., where they had gamely agreed to stay with our kids. Unfortunately, she learned that her mom was sick. When Becca called home the next day, Shula answered.
“I have bad news,” our daughter said.
Becca braced for the worst.
Shula continued, “Our car got stolen!” After a night of fear for her mother’s health, a stolen car felt like relatively good news. Her parents said they hoped it wouldn’t ruin our trip, and thankfully, it didn’t. But the stolen car was still a problem.
Finding the Car
At first, it was a logistical pain. We needed to connect with Geico (our insurer), and the 13-hour time difference made that hard. I managed to call them in the early morning my time, which was late afternoon their time (the prior day), and I caught them just before they left work. They were warm and helpful. A few days later, Geico alerted me that our car appeared to have been recovered by Prince George’s County police.
Though you’d think you might be able to reach Prince George’s County Police over the weekend, despite my best efforts, I failed.
Once we landed back in the US, our progress accelerated. I located the car in a tow yard outside the city. Unfortunately (well, fortunately for the tow company), the daily charge of $50 started upon the car being impounded, not upon anyone telling us the car was there. When I found it, the fees were already a couple hundred dollars. In my case, I managed it, and insurance was eventually paid, but for other people, the bills exceeded what they could access, and their cars were stuck indefinitely.
The Cleanup
Our car didn’t look in great shape, with the outside dented, dinged, and scraped. It was full of stains, empty liquor bottles, used cosmetics, and empty purses. I have attended many folk festivals but I have never been in a car that smelled more intensely of marijuana.
Despite the cold weather, I drove home with all the windows open to get rid of the cannabis smell. I managed to get the car all the way home without incident, which felt like a victory given the smell, condition, and variety of illuminated warning lights.
Next, the parking tickets arrived—first a couple, then a mailbox full. The car thieves triggered 15 tickets in just a few driving trips. I had to contest each one manually. I just received a note from DC that they needed more proof that my car was stolen, so this, unfortunately, is not resolved yet.
Once we got the car home, the long repair period began. First, I needed the Geico field inspector to review the damage. Because the smell (especially cigarettes) was so bad, I first needed to get the car to a specialized detailer located in an industrial strip in Virginia, which was a challenging place to get to without a car.
I drove down and took an Empower back. The detailer needed to track down some parts, which took several weeks. Once they were done, I had to pay them back to get the car. Even with the detailer’s work, the smell was still noticeable, though it improved.
At that point, the car was ready to go to an auto body shop to pay attention to all the dents and scratches. First, I needed to find one that was accepting repairs, which turned out to be surprisingly hard to do.
The best option I could find was a shop recommended by a friend—it was in the suburbs and booked a month ahead. I also needed to prepay for parts to limit delays later. It took me many hours to coordinate, call, drop off the car, pick up the car, and more. Our car was stolen just before Halloween 2023, and we didn’t get it back for good until mid-January 2024.
The car theft was costly and annoying so why am I grateful?
For most Americans, being without a car for an extended period can create acute problems. For instance, many people lose jobs due to lack of mobility, and those losses can cascade into financial and life crises.
That didn’t happen to us for a few reasons, and I’m incredibly grateful to be able to focus on the silver lining:
#1: DC is a very transit and bike-friendly place, so we have a lot of non-car ways to get around.
Becca usually bikes to work, and much of the route is in a protected bike lane. This significantly improved from when I started bike commuting (to SEIU in 2005). Back then, there were 0 miles of protected bike lanes in DC, and today, there are more than 160 miles. We also have a robust subway and bus system providing terrific coverage and rebounded strongly from the ridership drops during early COVID-19. I especially appreciate the express bus on 14th Street, right near our house, that resulted from an advocacy campaign.
#2: I work from my home office.
We were exploring office space in early 2020 but changed our plans once COVID-19 began. Nowadays, nearly all clients prefer to meet via Zoom despite the option to meet in person. The result is that I don’t need a car for my daily work. Becca bikes to her office the vast majority of days.
#3: Our life is quite walkable.
One of my favorite parts of the day (when we aren’t rushing) is walking my kids to school. Our neighborhood school is two blocks away, and several of our family’s favorite restaurants are within three blocks. That includes my default spot for lunch meetings. Our kids’ Hebrew school is walkable, and many of our friends are, too. It costs extra to live in a walkable neighborhood, but I’m really glad that I do.
#4: Since many of our friends don’t need a car at any given time, many were willing to share.
Many of our friends/neighbors have similar mobility needs and approaches. That means a friend usually has a car sitting unused behind their house or on the street at any given time. Few of our neighborhood friends own two cars, and our willingness to informally pool resources makes that work. It feels good to be able to help other people and receive help! We were fortunate that our across-the-street neighbors and dear friends had a car they weren’t regularly using—also, coincidentally, a red Camry. They very kindly let us use it when we needed a car for the long stretch when ours was being repaired.
#5: We were able to pay our deductible from savings.
Though the cost of paying the deductible was frustrating, it didn’t change our lives. But that’s a privilege. Nearly 40% of Americans don’t have enough cash to cover an unexpected $400 expense, and this was much more costly than that. For many people, a surprise cost of a few hundred dollars is more than they can pay from checking or savings, leading them to borrow at a high rate from a payday lender or credit card company.
If they can’t pay this money back, as many households can’t, then they owe that amount plus interest, which grows over time, often faster than their ability to pay it off. So what starts as a few hundred dollars can end as a few thousand.
In many countries, people don’t live as close to the edge, and fewer things can push them over–so many people living in such financial danger is a choice we make here in the US. In addition to feeling personally grateful that I had enough not to have the financial costs change my life, I feel angry that our society is structured so that so few people are comfortable and financially safe.
Gratitude
At first, I felt frustrated at the loss of using our car, the logistical hassle, and the cost. More recently, the smell has become fainter. I tried to take a broader perspective, and amazingly, it worked.
Now, my primary feeling is gratitude to my friends for their generosity with their cars and appreciation for living where elected leaders, advocates, and transit workers ensure we can get around safely without cars and have a connected and walkable life.
Grateful as I feel, please don’t steal my car again. 🙂