Michelle insisted they were getting picked up off the streets, but when I moved her a couple of miles away they stopped.
When I returned last October I put her in storage until her registration renewal became due and she had to pass emissions. Afterward, it being time to begin restoring her interior, I returned her to her "safe place."
I enjoy driving her and would usually get out every few days, but a bout of the bedriddens kept me in for several weeks.
As I learned in the hearing, after she was red-tagged as an abandoned vehicle the new employee at The City didn't know to send a notice of the intent to tow. I was oblivious until I received the letter of impoundment. The bill was $502.53.
Today the contract Hearing Officer heard my appeal. The City lost their case when they admitted they hadn't sent the notice of the tagging. But in the interests of my edification the Hearing Officer proceeded.
There were two other participants: a City employee whose concern was that inoperable vehicles -- as Phoebe had been deemed -- not continue to be an eyesore; the other was one of two police officers involved.
I was transfixed by the proceedings as each participant laid out their claims. The officer determined Phoebe inoperable based on a missing piece of plastic "dashboard" that covered the underside of the steering column.
A thorough review of the law disclosed that an inoperable and/or abandoned vehicle could be towed from anywhere, including private property.
The Hearing Officer asked for further clarification. Delving deeper, we learned that a vehicle with "missing parts" could be towed from private property. Meant to enable The City to deal with vehicles left up on blocks or worse, The City attorney admitted it was unlikely Phoebe would get yanked from the carport for a bit of missing underdash plastic...but they could.
In order to reimburse me, The City has to have a copy of the bill for the towing and impoundment. In an effort to make sure things didn't drag on forever, The City attorney asked the Hearing Officer to impose a deadline of 30 days for receipt of the bill.
Though confident of my ability to meet the deadline, I felt a bit affronted by this request and asked the Hearing Officer if he could require The City to reimburse me within 30 days of receipt of the bill.
I think everyone recognized the disengenuity behind my query (the quivering of the tip end of my tail was a giveaway) and my attempt at stifling a grin may have been noticed, but the Hearing Officer adjusted himself in his chair and leaning forward into his camera said, "I'm a contract Hearing Officer and I get paid when I get paid. I'm afraid you'll have to do the same." whereupon he settled back with a look of closure and said we could all go.
To get my last word, I apologized to everyone for taking their time. I nearly laughed aloud as each in turn, including The City administrator who opened the ZOOM meeting, also apologized. No one wants to be accused of being rude!
As you told your story, I could hear the creaking and grinding of the wheels of justice. At the University of Wisconsin Law School, they call that process “law in action:” It ain’t pretty.
ReplyDeleteJohn!
DeleteSo *that's* what it's called!
When, practically out of the gate, the city admitted fault, I expected them to wrap it up. But the hearing officer, who was obviously familiar with the law, kept lobbing another cue to the city attorney.
I enjoy law and was quickly mesmerized. It was a masterful performance and I really had a hard time keeping a straight face. If everyone hadn't been so serious I would've applauded.