Did I ever tell you about the time I got sued?

[Dutch]

**WARNING: LONG STORY AHEAD**

I recounted this story to some friends of mine a while back and thought I'd share it with the crowd at large here.

Sometime around 12-15 years ago, while living in Los Angeles, CA, an odd chain of events took place that left me with a fairly interesting story to tell. A name of a lawyer involved in the story (a name that is hard to forget once committed to memory) popped into my head today and for the first time ever, I put the name into the Google search engine and it brought up a pretty cool wiki entry for him.

In any event, if you aren't interested in long-winded stories, you can just clicking on the link at the end, but I warn you, it will do ya no good as the story is what makes the link interesting, not the other way around. But if you have a second, check out this story and you might find it a worthy read on a lazy Saturday/Sunday. Nothing Earth-shattering, but might be cool nonetheless.

*****
Hawthorne, CA, 1997
*****

At some point in the late 90's, around 1997 (so I'm around 26 years old), I was stationed at a little known Air Force back in El Segundo, California called Los Angeles AFB. (It's still there and is a big hub for defense contractors that liaison with the Air Force.

In any event, I went out to lunch one day in my little 1987 Nissan Pickup truck. I didn't have any money on me so I stopped by the local Bank of America (in Hawthorne, CA) to pull out a quick $20 so I could grab a quick hamburger.


One way (diagonal parking) just around the corner on the right-side of the Bank of America is where I parked.

I went to the ATM, pulled my $20 and was ready to roll out for some grub. When I got back into my truck, I looked behind me as I always do (I'm always a careful driver) and nobody was there. I began to pull out of the spot and when I went to check behind me a 2nd time, I noticed that the car next to me had started pulling out as well. It may have been simultaneous...not totally sure, but I do know that I was looking behind me to make sure no traffic was coming and at some point, the driver of this car had to do the same thing...and should've seen me moving out of my slot.

So when I see the car pulling out I think, "Crap, the driver doesn't see me" and I tried to get my truck back into the parking spot. But it was too late, I only had enough time to stop and the car backed into me. It was an innocent tap as far as I'm concerned, but it turned out to be quite a bit more than that!

I got out of my truck, walked around to the back of the truck where the contact was made and saw no damage to my pickup (it had one of these steel roll-bar styled bumpers).

"Sweet."

A lady got out of the car and was looking at her back bumper. The contact was her left-rear to my right-rear bumper. The only thing I saw was her tail-light was knocked out. No big deal.

We exchanged insurance information, "Just to be safe" but I told her it was probably best for both of us if she just replaced the tail-light cover herself and we forgot about it. She seemed receptive to that idea...but she was most definately not thinking that later on!

I got back in my truck and went to get food...probably from Jack-in-the-Box...knowing me then...to get the Colossus Burger which was a huge burger with 3 pieces of meat and 3 different types of cheese melted onto the burger...but I digress.

*****
Redondo Beach, CA
A few months later
*****

So I'm chilling out in my townhouse that I rented back on the corner of Artesia Blvd and Aviation Blvd. Probably playing EA Sports NHL which I was a huge fan of back then, when there is a knock at the door.

I open up and there is some guy I've never seen before.

"Thank god, I've been trying to reach you a few times now." he hands me some paperwork and I've been served...basically. "Go to the courthouse/police station (or wherever he told me to go) and you can get more information."

Okay, what the fuck?

So I head over to where they told me to go and I hand the paperwork to the clerk. They tell me I can review the case, it's a lawsuit...against me! It's like 10 or 15 pages long. Inside are details of an accident I had with this lady in the parking lot of Bank of America. Okay, that sounds familiar.

The lawsuit states that damages have occured. There was a neck-injury, there was automobile damages, there was loss of work (the woman apparently owned her own company), and stress flared up here sickle cell anemia condition.

The value of the lawsuit? $65,000 dollars!

I laughed. "Whatever."

But I was told I needed to contact my lawyer and there would be an arbitration hearing to follow. I was a member of State Farm then and I figured they would cover me and they did. I called them up, told them my story and they assigned a lawyer to go to the arbitration hearing with me.

The location of the arbitration hearing was downtown Los Angeles, on Martin Luther King Jr Blvd...not the safety place to be, but I didn't care, the meeting was to be at noon.

*****
The day of arbitration....
Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd
Los Angeles, CA
*****

To prepare for my hearing, I put on my Air Force service dress blues uniform so I could look sharp and professional for my meeting. I jumped in my truck and drove into Los Angeles.



The brown building next to T&T Market may have been the law office I went to. It's hard to tell as things have changed....

I park around the corner (not on the main drag, MLK Blvd) and approach the law office I'm supposed to go to. It is very modest and unassuming in appearance. But before I get to the front door, a couple of old black guys see me and stop me.

One asks, "Hey! Look at you! Are you in the AIR....FORCE!!!" he asks (really exaggerating the way I would say "Air Force" and he and his buddy are pretty jovial about it and chuckling.

I say, "Yeah." and I walk past them, but one of them shouts out to me.

"Hey! My friend here wants to join the AIR....FORCE! Can you hook that up?"

I shake my head, "No, sorry, I'm not a recruiter."

He shakes his head and gets sort of serious, "Why not? You don't think he's smart enough for the AIR....FORCE?"

I laugh that off and reply bluntly (probably too bluntly), "No, he's too old." Jokes over, they stop laughing and then just walk away.

So I approach the law offices building. Their is a sign on the door, "The Law Offices of B. Kwaku Duren". That's an unusual name, I think.

The door is locked. It's about 11:15, so I'm very early for the noon appointment. I had left early to make sure I could find it and I found it right away.

It's a nice day, as usual in Los Angeles, but it was blue skies too, I remember, not hazzy. I decide to stand there, on MLK Jr Blvd in my Air Force service blues and wait. Maybe 5 minutes later a young black kid rides up on his bike.

"Hey, mister! Do you OWN that building?"

I look back at the law office then back to the kid..."Um, no."

"Ohhhh, are you guarding that building?"

I smile at the kid but shake my head, "No. I'm hear to see the lawyer that works here." I almost feel like I'm telling him so he can relay it back to somebody. I just started getting this weird feeling.

I had almost forgotten the building next to the law office (which was a bit bigger) had lots of flags flying out front. One one the African nation flag (Black, Green and Gold I think are the colors) was definately out there on display and now I started to pay closer attention.

Coupled with the neighborhood, the name of the lawyer (Kwaku Duren?) and the flags, I think, "What the hell is that place? Black Panther headquarters? Wait till the guys back at work hear about this trip!"

The kid takes off on his bike and a minute or two later, this sharply dressed black male comes out of the building next to the law offices. He's in a suit, no jacket, (just a vest), and a knit beret on his head. He looks like pool shark/huslter to me. He gets out a cigar and lights it up.

He glances over at me...then approaches. I'm starting to not like this deal anymore.

He says, "Can I help you?"

Now I'm thinking this guy really is some sort of Black Panther leg breaker or something and I probably shouldn't be here.

I say, "No...I've got an appointment with Mr. Duren at noon. So I'm waiting for him to get here."

The man checks me over, probably a bit amazed that I'm just standing there in this Air Force uniform on MLK Blvd and wondering why nobody's shot me yet. I'm starting to feel like a complete moron at this point...but I don't care, I've got business to take care of.

"You're early. Why don't you go get something to eat or visit one of the fine shops around here while you wait."

"No thanks, I'm good.", I shoot back.

He glares at me one more time, puffs on his cigar for a moment and then heads back inside.

So I'm back to standing there, by myself and I think..."Fuck this, he's right, I'll come back at noon, on the button."

So I get in my truck and drive around for about 30 minutes and come back and park in the same place (around the corner).

I walk around the corner and I am stunned to see all the flags (I called them "battle flags") were all taken down and gone. Nothing would lead you to believe that building had been used in months, much less 30 minutes earlier.

At about this time a old white Bronco (no, not OJ's) pulls up on the main street and this scrawny white guy in a cheap suit gets out, looks around everywhere and then runs over to me when he see's me.

"Is it safe to park there???" he asks nervously.

I shake my head, "Beats me, man, I don't live here. Hey, the arbitrator isn't here yet."

He goes on to tell me that this wasn't set up with agreement of both parties and that this is a sham, and that we can protest anything that comes of this meeting. I'm cool with that....but....let's hear them out and see what's up first.

A few minutes later, the arbitor, an older black man, Mr. B. Kwaku Duren appears. He walks past us, says, "hello" and then opens up the door. He invites us in and we go inside.

The front room of his office has a desk, and walls full of books, paintings, and art. All African in nature/style. There is a big map of Africa in glass on the wall as well. Me and suddenly by new best friend (the skinny white lawyer guy) both glance uneasily at each other. Obviously, we are completely out of our normal element at this point.

"Did you see Ms. Jones?" (The actual name of the lady escapes me....but he meant the plaintiff).

"No, no sign."

So the three of us sit in his office for about 20 minutes, rather uneasily. I try to bring up the case but he tells me to not discuss anything until both parties are here. So we sit there in silence. I can here every squirm the State Farm lawyer makes...really uncomfortable, and I couldn't wait to get out of there already.

Finally this lady shows up with her "lady friend" (She's actually representing herself with no lawyer support). I take one look at said lady friend and immediately know this is the devil girl that convinced the other lady to go through with this crap.

We sit down and I'm sure we are going to be totally railroaded. The lady gets to explaining her story and her situation and it's filled with great exaggerations and lies. I'm not going to explain all that stuff, it's kind of like the "magic bullet theory" with JFK if you want a close approximation to what she was telling Mr. B. Kwaku Duren on this day.

I decided my best move was to just remain calm, let her bullshit speak for itself, and just be professional...and hope my fancy Air Force blues uniform spoke for itself somehow.

The end result was that I felt like Mr. Duren really wanted to help this lady out, really wanted to push the issue, but knew she was feeding him a load of crap. So he suggested to her that she go back and strengthen her argument, get her facts straight and re-engage at a later time but that her side of the story at the time of this hearing wasn't holding any water.

She was pretty frustrated but I was thrilled.

"So...I'm not being sued for $65,000?"

"No." he said.

(Sorry if that ruins the story for you. )

So I thank him for his time and left. I headed back to base to explain this series of events for the first time....I've done it a few times since, but I'll never forget it.

When recounting the story, I always say that Mr. B. Kwaku Duren's law offices were located right next to Black Panther Headquarters in Los Angeles. But I never was sure who he was or what that building was. I didn't care, because that's like the highlight of the story, so why ruin it, right?

Well, anyway, this morning the name Kwaku B. Duran (which is how I remember the name being) popped into my brain and I Googled it. And sure enough, B. Kwaku Duren is heavily linked on the internet and it's close enough (along with the law offices address on MLK Blvd...it's got to be him.

It was hard for me to see anything at the time but a $65K lawsuit, but now looking back, this was one helluva an interesting guy to top off a neat story.

Here's the guy I visited.

B. Kwaku Duren - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

(And yes, back in the 70's this guy was instrumental in forming the Los Angeles chapter of the Black Panthers).

Anyway, kind of a neat story.

[terpkristin]

Crazy. Definitely a neat story.

/tk

[sterlingice]

Very cool story. Thanks for sharing

SI

[Young Drachma]

People's College of Law ftw. Great story.