by Richard W. Millar, Jr.
The story was made into a movie released in 1994. I assume it was in color. It earned a perfect zero on Rotten Tomatoes and, again according to Wikipedia, was nominated for worst picture by “Stinkers Bad Movie Awards.” I never saw it.
So why mention it?, you ask. Good question. It is the title. For some inexplicable reason, it remains in my mind, perhaps as a wonderful anachronism in today’s GPS world. I would hope that nowadays police departments cannot lose any of their cars and are at least capable of locating them through current technologies.
My personal GPS is a small device attached to the windshield with a suction cup that falls off whenever the windshield gets hot or when I need it most. Inside it is a very bossy woman who is constantly “recalculating,” usually right at the decision point of whether I continue straight ahead or turn. She doesn’t think I’m very bright, and while she may have a point, I could do without recalculating reminders. As far as I know she doesn’t talk to the police. I know she doesn’t listen to me. I’ve tried. Loudly.
So like Cathy Bernstein I might have been fooled.
According to reports, Ms. Bernstein had (or still has) a black Ford Escort that has something called a 911 Assist feature as part of its SYNC system. It seems that Ms. Bernstein was out and about the streets of Port St. Lucie, Florida when an accident either happened or it didn’t. According to one Anna Preston, she was struck from behind by a black vehicle that took off. Ms. Bernstein, owner of a black Ford Escort, on the other hand, denied she was in any accident.
What is undisputable, however, is that the black Ford Escort called 911.
It seems that the SYNC system automatically calls 911 when it, or the car—I’m not sure which—thinks it has been in an accident. And unlike Ms. Bernstein, it thought it had been in one; presumably the same accident Ms. Preston thought she had been in.
The Ford system does not use my calculating and recalculating bossy woman. It is inhabited by a rather nondescript male who says, “Attention, a crash has occurred with the Ford vehicle. Press one at any time for vehicle location or press zero to speak with vehicle occupant.” At least it doesn’t say “press one for English, two for ... etc.,” but I digress. The 911 operator, a (real) woman, apparently pressed zero, as she reached Ms. Bernstein. What follows—and I have listened to the tape—is a remarkable conversation in which the very calm, but a tad skeptical, operator asks Ms. Bernstein nine ways from Sunday whether her car has been in an accident. Ms. Bernstein, equally as many times, denies that any accident occurred, much less that she was in one. She does not veer from her denials even though the operator stresses that the car won’t call unless there as been an accident. This finally causes Ms. Bernstein to make a slight reevaluation and say that someone cut her off. The operator again says that the car will not call when it has just been cut off; it will only call in an accident. This results in a stalemate of sorts, prompting the operator to ask Ms. Bernstein if she had been drinking, which she denies as adamantly as she denies anything happened.
The police went to Ms. Bernstein’s home (with the location provided by her car) and found that the car had visible damage with paint that matched Ms. Preston’s vehicle, and also determined that Ms. Bernstein was allegedly fleeing the scene of hitting a truck when she rear-ended Ms. Preston. She was charged with hit and run.
I don’t know the resolution of her case, but fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your perspective, the Ford 911 Assist does not issue Miranda warnings before the 911 operator comes on the line.
Well, you know technology has taken over when, asked about the conflicting statements between Ms. Bernstein and the car, the 911 operator is reported to have said:
“I believed the car.”
Richard W. Millar, Jr. is a member of the firm of Millar, Hodges & Bemis in Newport Beach. He can be reached at millar@mhblaw.net.