They Heard the Whole Confession
At 17, just after I got my driver’s license, my dad allowed me to take his car. I was on my way to pick up my friend so we could go see a movie.
I had a green light, was moving through the intersection, and was hit by a car running a red light. I hit my head, was confused and scared, and was incapable of moving. The accident took place less then five minutes from a hospital so I was packed up in an ambulance before I could think straight.
It was the most terrifying experience of my life—and it was about to get worse. I was in the same ambulance as the woman who hit me that was screaming about the pain in her knee. In the hospital we are wheeled into the same room and separated by a curtain.
She called her family, speaking in Spanish, and told them to come to the hospital. A nurse gave me my phone and told me to call a parent. So I called my dad to come.
Her family arrived first. I only took one year of Spanish and, while I couldn’t follow the conversation, I could tell they were talking about me. My dad arrived then. He’s completely fluent in Spanish though you wouldn’t know it from looking at him.
And, after hearing the other family’s conversation he became enraged and began recording it on his phone. The gist of the conversation was this. The woman that ran the red light knew she was in the wrong but didn’t have insurance. I was a young white girl “rich enough” to have a car.
The police would believe her, the middle-aged woman, if she claimed I ran the red light. When the police arrived to take statements they went to the woman first as the medical staff had already finished with her.
(In between the plan hatching she’d been screaming about how her knee hurt and the pain pills the nurses tried to give her were too big to swallow. I’d just been quiet and undemanding and simply answered questions asked of me and complied with any requests.)
Then they came to talk to me. My dad asked if either officer could speak Spanish. One did, so my dad played the recording. She got the ticket. The report stated she was at fault and I was not. And yet she still tried to sue me for her medical bills and the damage to her car.
My mom was a secretary at a law office and her boss was kind enough to write her a letter full of legalese saying I’d countersue if she continued to harass me and I had the police reports stating she was at fault.
It was an interesting few months.