neebelung
02-27-2008, 08:36 AM
Many of you may be familiar with Tricktape.com, and/or the owners, 'Rezin' and 'Lorilye.' And you may or may not be aware that they were involved in a horrible accident involving a drunk driver last year, which has subsequently nearly killed their business.
There was an interesting article a couple days ago about the accident, and the aftermath, and how it's affected Tricktape.com:
http://www.philly.com/inquirer/local/20080224_Monica_Yant_Kinney__DWI_has_victims_livel ihood_on_line.html
Monica Yant Kinney: DWI has victims' livelihood on line
By Monica Yant Kinney
Inquirer Columnist
If the producers of Survivor are scouting, they might want to stop by TrickTape Motorsports in Bristol Borough to chat up Rob and Nancy Gardner.
On the TV show, contestants engage in 39 days of staged feats of strength and determination, vying to win $1 million. In reality, the Gardners have spent the last 10 months recovering from a drunken-driving accident that didn't kill them, but did ruin their lives.
Real surviving is owning a mom-and-pop motorcycle-gear shop and facing furious customers who don't care that a drunk demolished your Jeep with you in it.
It's walking around numbed by pain pills until deciding you'd rather be the old you in agony than a zombie on Percocet. It's eating Ellio's frozen pizza every day because it's all you can afford.
And if you're Nancy, it's selling your stilettos on eBay to pay the rent. Do what it takes to stay open for the spring cycling season because it's your last chance to keep from going under for good.
"There's living, and there's surviving," says Rob, victim-turned-philosopher. "Surviving brings out a different part of you."
A bad break
Rob, a 39-year-old former Marine photographer, and Nancy, a 30-year-old onetime postal worker, have always been superstitious.
Fate drew the homebodies out in April on Friday the 13th. And fate slammed them a mile later.
The F-250 pickup truck hit the Gardners' Wrangler so hard, Rob says, showing me a photo for proof, "the side mirror of our Jeep was ripped off, fused, and embedded in the truck."
The driver registered a 0.15 percent blood-alcohol level, nearly double the legal limit. After pleading guilty in October, the Bensalem man was sentenced to 48 hours in jail and ordered to pay $7,000 in restitution - aid that the Gardners desperately need, but that is trickling in slowly.
"In January we got a check for $20," Rob says, dryly. "Two weeks later, we got another one for $50."
Nancy laughs from behind the counter of the shop, which is stocked with helmets and leather jackets reflecting the couple's love of motorcycles and desire to spend every moment working together, for themselves.
"We were never going to be millionaires," Rob tells me, "but the business was growing, and you couldn't find two happier people."
Shortly before the accident, they spent their last $3,000 in savings on a Comcast commercial. The ad paid off, except all the new customers it brought showed up (and logged in online, at www.tricktape.com) after Rob and Nancy were injured.
With no health insurance and intense pain, the Gardners sought out a lawyer. They were sent to specialists who diagnosed herniated disks, nerve damage and bone spurs.
In the months after the crash, Rob and Nancy had 160 medical appointments. As TrickTape's owners and sole employees, they had to close shop for tests and treatment.
"That," Rob now knows, "is when things really started falling apart."
Back from the brink
A business lives and dies by reputation. TrickTape's was shattered. Rob's credit rating sank under $50,000 in unpaid bills. Better Business Bureau complaints poured in, humiliating the owners, whose Web site proudly proclaims that "if we get you as a customer, we keep you as a customer."
Instead, fed-up cycle enthusiasts, tired of waiting for their accessories, forced TrickTape to refund more than $25,000 worth of sales.
"I didn't even pay taxes last year," Rob admits, "because I don't know what I made."
Besides, Nancy adds, how do you pay taxes on a negative number?
"We couldn't get victims' compensation," she explains, "because we weren't normal victims."
Normal victims have pay stubs and W2 forms to prove what they lost. Rob and Nancy have folders filled with canceled orders and vats of bad blood on the Internet.
And yet the Gardners are Zen.
That amazed Linda Amos, a Mothers Against Drunk Driving advocate helping the Gardners.
"When they spoke at the sentencing, they had no malice, no vengeance," Amos recalls. "They told the truth about the accident. It has changed their lives irreparably."
Once, a grief counselor asked the Gardners why they didn't declare bankruptcy, bury the business, and get other jobs.
"The store is everything," Rob told her. "It's us."
Besides, Nancy figures, if they "tough it out" and fail, at least "we made that decision for ourselves."
Giving up, Rob adds, would be "letting a drunk driver decide for us." Hasn't he done enough?
There was an interesting article a couple days ago about the accident, and the aftermath, and how it's affected Tricktape.com:
http://www.philly.com/inquirer/local/20080224_Monica_Yant_Kinney__DWI_has_victims_livel ihood_on_line.html
Monica Yant Kinney: DWI has victims' livelihood on line
By Monica Yant Kinney
Inquirer Columnist
If the producers of Survivor are scouting, they might want to stop by TrickTape Motorsports in Bristol Borough to chat up Rob and Nancy Gardner.
On the TV show, contestants engage in 39 days of staged feats of strength and determination, vying to win $1 million. In reality, the Gardners have spent the last 10 months recovering from a drunken-driving accident that didn't kill them, but did ruin their lives.
Real surviving is owning a mom-and-pop motorcycle-gear shop and facing furious customers who don't care that a drunk demolished your Jeep with you in it.
It's walking around numbed by pain pills until deciding you'd rather be the old you in agony than a zombie on Percocet. It's eating Ellio's frozen pizza every day because it's all you can afford.
And if you're Nancy, it's selling your stilettos on eBay to pay the rent. Do what it takes to stay open for the spring cycling season because it's your last chance to keep from going under for good.
"There's living, and there's surviving," says Rob, victim-turned-philosopher. "Surviving brings out a different part of you."
A bad break
Rob, a 39-year-old former Marine photographer, and Nancy, a 30-year-old onetime postal worker, have always been superstitious.
Fate drew the homebodies out in April on Friday the 13th. And fate slammed them a mile later.
The F-250 pickup truck hit the Gardners' Wrangler so hard, Rob says, showing me a photo for proof, "the side mirror of our Jeep was ripped off, fused, and embedded in the truck."
The driver registered a 0.15 percent blood-alcohol level, nearly double the legal limit. After pleading guilty in October, the Bensalem man was sentenced to 48 hours in jail and ordered to pay $7,000 in restitution - aid that the Gardners desperately need, but that is trickling in slowly.
"In January we got a check for $20," Rob says, dryly. "Two weeks later, we got another one for $50."
Nancy laughs from behind the counter of the shop, which is stocked with helmets and leather jackets reflecting the couple's love of motorcycles and desire to spend every moment working together, for themselves.
"We were never going to be millionaires," Rob tells me, "but the business was growing, and you couldn't find two happier people."
Shortly before the accident, they spent their last $3,000 in savings on a Comcast commercial. The ad paid off, except all the new customers it brought showed up (and logged in online, at www.tricktape.com) after Rob and Nancy were injured.
With no health insurance and intense pain, the Gardners sought out a lawyer. They were sent to specialists who diagnosed herniated disks, nerve damage and bone spurs.
In the months after the crash, Rob and Nancy had 160 medical appointments. As TrickTape's owners and sole employees, they had to close shop for tests and treatment.
"That," Rob now knows, "is when things really started falling apart."
Back from the brink
A business lives and dies by reputation. TrickTape's was shattered. Rob's credit rating sank under $50,000 in unpaid bills. Better Business Bureau complaints poured in, humiliating the owners, whose Web site proudly proclaims that "if we get you as a customer, we keep you as a customer."
Instead, fed-up cycle enthusiasts, tired of waiting for their accessories, forced TrickTape to refund more than $25,000 worth of sales.
"I didn't even pay taxes last year," Rob admits, "because I don't know what I made."
Besides, Nancy adds, how do you pay taxes on a negative number?
"We couldn't get victims' compensation," she explains, "because we weren't normal victims."
Normal victims have pay stubs and W2 forms to prove what they lost. Rob and Nancy have folders filled with canceled orders and vats of bad blood on the Internet.
And yet the Gardners are Zen.
That amazed Linda Amos, a Mothers Against Drunk Driving advocate helping the Gardners.
"When they spoke at the sentencing, they had no malice, no vengeance," Amos recalls. "They told the truth about the accident. It has changed their lives irreparably."
Once, a grief counselor asked the Gardners why they didn't declare bankruptcy, bury the business, and get other jobs.
"The store is everything," Rob told her. "It's us."
Besides, Nancy figures, if they "tough it out" and fail, at least "we made that decision for ourselves."
Giving up, Rob adds, would be "letting a drunk driver decide for us." Hasn't he done enough?