I've been telling you readers about the various processes I've undertaken over the past year or so. I was glad to share with you the painstaking process of getting out of Skid Row — and just as happy to impart the lessons I learned along the way.
It was all working, things were rolling along. I had made it out of Skid Row. I had cleared an old, undeserved felony from my record. I had reconnected with my family after years of estrangement. I actually had a shot of completing the college studies that I started but never finished at the University of Pennsylvania many years ago.
I had some other processes working, too. Just a week after the court reduced my plea from a felony to a misdemeanor my attorney e-mailed me with news that state tax officials had lowered my outstanding debt from a sum of almost $60,000 to only $7,000.
I was advancing through the time tunnel.
My attorney advised me to make a compromise offer to pay the original debt of $687. That's how much I owed before years of interest and penalties piled up. I took his advice, and yet another process began.
All the while I continued to take pride in my hard-earned savings account. Each morning I would turn on the computer and look at my account online. It provided me with a strong sense of security. After all, I started out with 10 cents when I landed on Skid Row. I washed my clothes by hand and wrung them dry. I collected cans to earn money. That experience made me appreciate the value of a dollar like never before.
Then one morning I woke up and proceeded with my daily ritual. I accessed the bank website, put in my username and code. The balances in both my checking and savings accounts reflected $0.00.
I sat perfectly still. I might have been aiming to get back into Penn, but at this moment I relied on the lessons I learned at the University of Skid Row. I did not panic — even though I almost died on the spot. I figured my money had been seized by some entity for an old debt. The officials at the bank confirmed my intuition, informing me that a levy had been executed to seize funds to satisfy a judgment. I ask them who executed the levy. "The University of Pennsylvania," was the answer.
I did not allow myself to think the worst. The University of Skid Row had taught me how to contain my thoughts and emotions while focusing on the task at hand. Without that training I would have unraveled at the potential disaster facing me at that moment.
Instead, I knew what to do. I called the director of collections at Penn. I told her what had happened. I counted on the fact that I had earned credibility with her by never missing a payment since I started to tackle my outstanding debt several months earlier.
The collections director at Penn knew that the money that had been drained from my account was all I had. She told me that she didn't know anything about the action and told me not to worry. She said that someone had acted without authorization from the university, and she assured me I would get the money back.
The funds were returned in full to my account within a week.
I took it as proof that my strategy — built out of the lessons at the University of Skid Row — was paying off.
Not long after I received an email from my attorney.
"Call me," he message said. "I have good news."
I figured my offer had been accepted and I'd be able to settle my tax matters for $678.
I called the attorney, and he told me that the state tax officials had decided not to accept my offer. They had instead decided to totally write off my entire balance.
I was stunned. My attorney explained to me that the manager assigned to my account had been impressed by my willingness to come forward and clear up my tax debt even though I had little money. The bureaucrat knew my history with drug addiction and related troubles. He explained to my attorney that most folks try to hide assets while pulling a fast one with the state. I had been totally honest. As a result of that honesty, the state had decided to write off my tax delinquency status and remove all liens permanently.
Another seed had blossomed.
I had traveled through yet another long process — and everything had worked out.
Lesson learned — time to move forward.
More on that next week.
Walter Melton is a writer for the L.A. Garment & Citizen.
Visit Walter Melton's blog at www.scribeskidrow.blogspot.com.
Collage by LA Beez
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