| After a long wait, a police officer arrives, fills out an accident report, and the parties depart. This is his first accident, so Wayne neglects to take down the woman's name and address. He will come to regret this. A few days later, when Wayne submits a claim to get his motorcycle fixed, his insurance company says it needs that name and address.
Wayne goes to the district where the accident happened and asks the desk officer: Can I see the report? No, the officer says, you cannot. But you can order a copy. It will cost $15 and take about six weeks.
Wayne goes home frustrated. His motorcycle is in the shop. Will he have to wait six weeks to get it fixed? But wait . . . there's more. The phones begin ringing in the Baldwin residence, from so and so from a doctor's office: We heard you were hurt in an accident. Want to come in for an exam? Ring, ring In all, Wayne gets about a half-dozen calls from physicians' offices, all trying to get him to come in, most likely as a prelude to suing for the accident. Did someone say sue? Now come letters from lawyers, saying: Hey, we just heard you had an accident. Did you know you could sue? Give us a call!
Wayne and his parents are mystified and miffed. They wonder: How come every accident chaser in town seems to know about the accident, while we must wait six weeks and pay $15 for the same info? Good question. I am here to help. First, the police shouldn't have blown Wayne off. They have access to a computer that has a facsimile of the accident report. The desk officer could have called it up and given him the woman's name and address. A tip for anyone who goes to police to get info: Identify yourself as a victim. If the desk officer declines to help, ask for the captain. Plead your case. Better still, you can go to Room 167 in City Hall. This is the Records Department, where all traffic accident reports end up. Clerks there will tell you to order a copy and pay $15. But don't do that unless you really need the full report. Tell them you want to look at the report. You can do this for free and copy down the info you need. To find the file they will need either the location of the accident or the police district control number, which is assigned to each accident by police. In fact, Room 167 is where those accident chasers most likely got Wayne's name and address. Fishing for leads Albert Pace, who heads the operation for Records, said there are about 34 people who specialize in "fishing" through accident reports for leads. A few work directly for lawyers. Many are freelancers who pass along tips for a fee. "And, they make a very nice living off it," Pace told me. Hmm. Why let this fishing go on? All it does is increase the number of lawsuits, which, in turn, increases insurance costs. Philadelphia already has the highest per-capita number of accident suits and the largest settlements in the state. I pose this question to Joan Decker, who is Records Commissioner. Her reply: The law gives the public the right to inspect these records. "With some limitations and conditions, we are required to make this available to the public. How they use this information is beyond our control." May I suggest one such limitation: Except for parties directly involved, why not keep the records embargoed for six weeks from the date of an accident - the same period a person must wait for the report to be processed and mailed? That would level the playing field. After all, why treat the accident chasers better than the accident victims? Contact Tom Ferrick at 215-854-2714 or at tferrick@phillynews.com.
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