How The Little Guy Gets Screwed: Chapter 5

Trench Warfare

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Let me say this right off the bat:

This story is about a man I met in my personal and not professional life. We don't even live in the same town. Therefore I've named names, companies, events and drugs exactly as I can recall. Because I can! Wheeee!!!! Of course, given my memory, it may be nothing but a work of fiction anyway.

Onward....

So my dad is really into clocks. When he and my mom moved here about 18 months ago, one of his favorites did not fair well and needed some TLC. He actually managed to track down a Certified Master Clock Maker--a dying breed (and becoming one is an interesting process from beginning to end) to make the repairs because the clock was an American antique. (Well, the outside was. Come to find out the innards were made in Korea, probably in the 1960's.)

The closest one is located about 45 minutes from our town and my dad asked me to make the drive with him. When we finally found the shop, which took a bit of navigating, we were met not by the Master Clock Maker but his apprentice, a guy who didn't look older than thirty.

The apprentice started tinkering and I started asking questions. Because really, who decides to become a clock maker?* It's cool, to be sure, but it's like finding a cobbler these days, right? Or an honest-to-God tailor. A hundred years ago, absolutely, but these are the goods China provides now, not artisans.

Come to find out there was a story.

The Apprentice, who I'll call Greg because I cannot remember his name, did not have great aspirations of becoming a clock maker. In fact, up until a few years ago, he had a "really good job". He worked for some distribution company in town and his job was distributing magazines. He was a driver and delivery dude and he drove to big and little box stores all around the city delivering and restocking weeklies and monthlies. He had a high hourly salary. Health insurance. Paid vacation. It was a decent job for someone without a college degree and he was reasonably happy with it. He could certainly support his family on the salary and benefits.

And then one day he was at the Mart of Darkness making a delivery. Now, here's where you need to pay close attention. Greg was working for his company, right? He was at Wal Mart just finishing up a delivery and walking back to his truck. Being at the wrong place at the wrong time, one of those massive garage doors in back fell on him, which was the fault of another third party, this guy from Pepsi Cola.

Greg's back was damaged permanently. Over the next few years he required surgeries, was jacked up on all kinds of pain cocktails from Lortab to Oxycontin to Fentanyl and most importantly, couldn't work. Yes, he had unemployment, but that ran out. And even after surgeries, his pain could only be managed, not alleviated. He walked with a noticeable limp.

Here's the kicker: Because three different companies were involved, Wal Mart, his own company, and Pepsi, none of them could agree on who should pay for his disability and ongoing health care. And when my dad and I saw him, a good three or four years AFTER he was initially hurt, he had not received one penny from any one of them.

Say you: Couldn't they all just pay a third and be done with it?

Say me: This seems perfectly logical. Unless you're a corporate giant. Or an attorney.

In the interim, all of his expenses had come from his own pocket. Needless to say, he was beyond broke. He and his wife were raising five children. They didn't have health care for themselves. They had literally lost everything: their home, cars, savings, and livelihood. Plus he was still in pain and obviously not capable of working the same kind of job he had before the injury. He sued all three companies, on his own dime, and was met with wall after wall of legalese, finger pointing, and denial of blame.

Things got so bad that Greg literally walked door-to-door to businesses in his town offering free labor. He figured he could eventually earn his way to a paycheck using this tactic. And this is how he found the clock master. What he didn't realize when he happened upon this gentleman was that he would really have a knack for it. Which was great, considering almost all other options were off the table.

My father and I saw our hero once more about five months later. The Master retired and offered to sell The Apprentice his shop as well as continue to sponsor him for his certification. He was still in pain every day and had not received one dime of reimbursement for medical expenses or compensation for lost time at work. ->

*That and I'm just plain nosey.