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I got the call at 9AM Sunday.
Not one I wanted.
Not one I’ll ever forget.

THE BURGLARY
It began Friday night and
continued for one and a half days.
On Sunday morning the NYPD,
the “finest”, finally noticed. The
local thugs had been emptying our
warehouse all weekend. One or two
cartons each. Hand carried through
the streets of Queens.
The cops arrested three kids
who led them to the gaping hole in
the rear of our warehouse. A spot
hidden from view. They’d hammered
through an old blocked-in window,
avoiding our alarm system.
It took me 30 heart-palpatating
minutes to reach our warehouse
that Sunday morning. My partner
Bob wasn’t there yet. I had to enter
alone. Even my active imagination
didn’t prepare me for what I saw.
A cardboard sea of rubble filled
our warehouse, waist deep. A
$20,000 loss. And thus began our

INSURANCE SAGA
We immediately hired a Public
Adjuster to help enhance our
settlement. Tony, ex-FBI, knew the
system. His 10% was small price to
pay.
We filled out paperwork. Claimed
a $30,000 loss. The insurance co.

sent their man to inspect and collect
more paperwork. We waited.
They’re not so swift when it comes
to cutting a check.
Weeks went by. Then more
delay when their adjuster went
on vacation. After two months,
we were getting nervous. Losing
money. Banks wouldn’t lend us any.
Little trade credit was available.
It was our first year in business.
We complained. We begged.
Finally, we got $5,000 on account,
pending full settlement to come
soon!

THE CALL
Bob and I weren’t prepared for
Tony’s call. The Home Insurance
Co. had filed for bankruptcy
protection. What? Tony quickly
reassured us; in New York,
insurance companies are coinsured.
We were covered. It took
an hour for my heart to resume its
normal beat. It took a little longer to
get our settlement.
We filled out new paperwork. A
new insurance man inspected and
collected even more paperwork.
They dragged their asses. We were
drowning.

A TRIAL?
Meanwhile, Bob became a
regular visitor to the Queens
County Courthouse. He was trying

to help prosecute the thieves. After
five postponments, it was no longer
worth showing up. Commercial
burglery was on page two of the
prosecutor’s one page agenda.
This was NYC, 1981. Five murders
a day and thousands of crimes far
worse than stealing roller skates.

Five and a half months now since
the break-in. We’re hurting. Friends
and family had invested in this
venture, too. Bob finally called Tony
in desparation and asked, “What’s
it gonna take to settle this?” He
summarized Tony’s answer for me,

“$1500. Cash. In an envelope.”

I was dumbfounded. My head
buzzed. An answer was needed.
What would you have done?

See what we did and the eyeopening
turn of events. Next catalog: June '08.

It’s True.
Gus