Chapter 7

By Stephen Kass
Honestly, I never thought things would get this bad, Bobby, John said from the
only occupied barstool, which sat in the corner of his friends basement right next to his
home office.
Yep. You and about sixty percent of the rest of the country, Bobby replied
from behind the bar as he rinsed their glasses before filling them with fresh ice and
bourbon.
I mean I just never thought I would ever get myself into this position. I used to
be successful, Bobby. But then everything turned sour with Shelby and they pulled out
of Pennsylvania. They were my number one provider, Bobby. Number one. They pull
out of the state and suddenly most of my clients, almost my whole book of business,
dont have insurance anymore. And who do you think they held responsible?
You, of course.

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Yes, me of course. Im the agent. Im their contact. Im the only guy theyve
ever talked to. Most of them probably didnt even realize I was independent. Hell, for all
they know Im the goddamn head of the insurance company.
Right, and when they get that letter from Shelby saying their insurance has been
cancelled, youre the one they blame because they assume it was you that did it to them.
John paused for a moment and took large gulp from his glass. He looked around
the basement and marveled at how nice Bobbys house was, even his basement. There
was a pool table in the opposite corner and a dart board across from that. There was even
a pinball machine right next to the small bar he was sitting at. In fact, the only part of the
entire basement that wasnt set up like a bar/gameroom was Bobbys small home office.
John stared at the deep brown door, which was closed, and studied the small black
nameplate with golden lettering Bobby had affixed to it:

Robert L. Greenstein, C.P.A

Hes even got a fancy plaque on his home office door, John thought to himself.
John was almost positive that Bobby never brought clients to his home office. It was in
his basement after all. He worked for an accounting firm in Pittsburgh, and probably had
all of his meetings there. However, Bobby did often entertain guests in his basement and
probably recognized the benefit of representing himself as a competent businessman even
at a party in his own home. The plaque really made the tiny office look official. Maybe
thats where I went wrong, John thought.
John Stampard had no such signage anywhere in his office. He did have a sign
outside:
Stampard Insurance
Home, Life, Auto, Fire

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But that sign was simply a wooden board painted with white background and blue
letters. It was held up by two wooden planks and placed in the yard on the side of the
house. In truth, Johns office was just an old farmhouse he had bought in an auction
and converted into an office. The wallpaper looked like it had been there since the 70s
and the basement had a dirt floor, not that John ever made it a habit of taking clients
anywhere near the basement. Just after John bought the house, he found out about the
massive structural damage termites had done to much of the structure, and when he
brought Bobby over for an amateur appraisal, John asked if he had any suggestions.
Bobby simply reached into his pocket and handed John a book of matches.
John however did manage to turn the old house into a rather productive insurance
office. The house was in the middle of nowhere really, but it was right at the intersection
of two single lane highways, so it was easily accessible to the farmers and other rural folk
who lived in the area. In a lot of ways, the rustic look of the office appealed to many of
Johns clients who were naturally distrustful of suave, sophisticated businessmen from
the city. Country people trusted John because he was one of them and he often liked to
joke with them that he was just a dumb honky from Clarion. Now John wondered if all
of that had turned on him in the end, because a country boys trust didnt seem to stretch
very far once shit hit the fan. Once there was a problem, even his most rustic clients were
eager to drop the dumb honky that had gotten their insurance cancelled in favor of a
simple quote on Progressive.com.
Everything just got really fucked up, Bobby.
I know, John. I know. But look at it this way. Youre not alone. Between the
mortgage and the car payments and the fucking credit cards, half the country is either

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going bankrupt or bankrupt already. Most of us are just doing what we can to stay
afloat.
Ive been floating for a long time now and I just finally sunk.
Have you told Amy or the kids yet?
Well of course I told Amy. I didnt really need to tell her. She knew the
situation and I guess weve both just been waiting for this day to come. You know she
just got laid off?
Jesus. That water company didnt pick her up full time?
Nah. They just kept extending her temporary position another thirty days at a
time until they didnt need her anymore. They didnt want to give her the benefits, which
is what we really needed. We dont even have health insurance right now, Bobby. Im a
fucking insurance agent and my kids cant even go to the doctor right now because we
dont have health insurance.
Well at least theyre both away at school. Dont colleges have some kind of
health plan for students?
Yeah, I told them both to just get on that. Havent told either of em that were
losing the house yet.
Youre losing the house?
Yup, and my commissions too. Apparently, according to the IRS, commissions
are assets and not income. Makes you wonder why Ive been paying fucking income tax
all these years.
So you went and talked to that lawyer I told you about?

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John took another long gulp and finished his drink before continuing. He knew
what he had to do next, but that didnt make it any easier. Deep within the core of
himself, John felt like a complete failure and this was just one more piece of evidence to
prove that feeling right.
Yeah, thats actually why Im here. I needed to talk to you about that.
Yeah?
Well that lawyer does know his shit. He said he only does bankruptcy cases.
Thats all he does all year long, help people who have fucked up their lives declare it to
the rest of the world.
Dont think about it like that...
Well thats not my point, Bobby. My point is he told me his fee is nine hundred
and fifty dollars.
Hes the best.
I dont have the money, Bobby.
Bobby stared into Johns eyes, confused at first, until John couldnt bare it and
turned his gaze to the floor. It was that sign of submission, like a dog pleading with its
master, that made Bobby understand.
Dont worry about it, buddy. Let me fix you another drink.
Thanks, Bobby. I appreciate it.
***
Amy Stampard stood in her kitchen and stared at the letter for a long time, trying
to make sense of it. It was addressed to her and her husband and the return address said
Kenny Ross Motors in big blue and yellow type just like their logo. Theyd obviously

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printed this envelope themselves. When they had met with him, their lawyer had warned
both Amy and John that this might happen, but it still caught Amy off guard. They had
never even been to Kenny Ross Motors, let alone purchased anything from them. How
had they even gotten their names and address? Amy read the letter again:
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Stampard,
We here at Kenny Ross Motors have recently been informed of your
intention to file Chapter 7 bankruptcy. We would like to be the first to say that we
understand how easy it is to fall on hard times and we urge you not to view
bankruptcy as the end, but rather as a new beginning. Bankruptcy provides
individuals in your situation the opportunity the clear the slate and start over.
Once you officially declare your bankruptcy, you will be given a brand new line
of credit and a chance to rebuild. This is why we here at Kenny Ross Motors
would like to encourage you to take advantage of our special Fresh Credit
finance program, which will enable you to buy a brand new car TODAY! This
program is specifically designed to accommodate consumers in your situation by
offering you special, low interest loans with guaranteed approval. Simply come
on down to Kenny Ross Motors with proof of your newly filed bankruptcy to
instantly qualify for the loan. Remember, you could be driving a brand new 2008
model car right off the lot THAT VERY DAY!! Well be waiting for you.
Sincerely,
The Kenny Ross Sales Team
Even though she had been warned, Amy was still pretty shocked to read the letter
and discover that not only would she be able to purchase a new car after declaring

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bankruptcy, but that she would somehow be even more qualified for a loan than before.
Amys assumption throughout the process had been that her and her husband would have
great difficulty securing any kind of loans at all in the future.
After all, what was bankruptcy if not an official declaration that you had been
given loans you then failed to pay back? Did this not demonstrate that you were either
irresponsible with money or incapable of paying back the debts you incurred? Amy
thought this would serve as a huge warning sign to any financial institution that they
would deal with in the future, like a big red warning sign that would pop up from the
floor as if they were on a game show and flash Bankrupt...Bankrupt...Bankrupt...Do not
lend money...They wont pay it back...Bankrupt.... Instead the sign seemed to say
something different, something Amy hadnt anticipated. Judging from the Kenny Ross
letter, the sign was flashing something like Fresh Meat...Hurry, theres fresh meat here
to a pack of hungry creditors.
Unsure of what to do with it, Amy simply placed the letter back on the kitchen
table and decided that she had better get started on her bedroom anyway. Amy Stampard
was quite the packrat, and over the course of the nineteen years they had lived there, had
managed to fill most of her bedroom with piles of random articles, all kept for
sentimental reasons. There were report cards for every year Andrew and Jane had been
in grade school, all neatly piled together. Newspapers were stacked in one corner, each
holding some article about a friend or relative that Amy thought significant enough to
save. Aside from that there was quite an eclectic mix of old toys, wrapping paper, books,
jewelry, and other trinkets that Amy had never had the heart to throw away. But more

8
than anything else, there were pictures. Entire archives of pictures, kept in large
cardboard boxes that were spread out on the floor.
To the casual observer, Amys bedroom (It was considered basically her bedroom
since John hadnt slept their in years, preferring the couch in the living room downstairs
due to his chiropractors insistence that he sleep on anything other than their waterbed.
Amy had offered to get a new bed, but John felt they didnt have the money.) might have
looked highly disorganized and cluttered. In fact, it probably would have looked like a
mess, albeit a tidy mess, since Amy had carved out walkways between the piles that
allowed her to reach both her recliner and the television, which were on the opposite side
of the room from the bed. However, mess would have been an altogether inappropriate
word because when a mess is produced, the producer of the mess has no regard for where
and how things are placed.
Amy, on the other hand, paid meticulously close attention to where she placed
anything and everything when she added it to a pile. She had her own kind of filing
system, mostly all laid out on the floor, which made sense to nobody but her, but if she
were ever asked to produce anything from her bedroom she would know immediately its
exact location and be able to find it in a matter of seconds. For years this annoyed John
greatly before he finally accepted it as a fact of life and actually learned to enjoy the
quirkiness of the whole routine. Sometimes, when they would have family over, John
would show a relative the mess in their bedroom and then ask Amy to produce a
specific picture or newspaper article, which she would then do instantly. The observer
was always thoroughly impressed and John came to admire the whole routine like some
kind of amateur magic trick.

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Unfortunately for Amy, the bankruptcy process had provided her with a challenge
more terrible than any financial issue. Because they had refinanced with a debt
consolidation firm, which took over all of their mortgage, car payments, and credit card
debt only three years prior, Amy and John had destroyed all of the equity they had built
over the sixteen years they had spent paying down the mortgage. They had thought they
might be able to keep their house by declaring bankruptcy, but apparently with almost no
equity in the house this was not a possibility. As the lawyer explained it, according to the
law the house they had raised their children in wasnt really their house at all. It
belonged to the debt consolidation agency and they needed to be paid back.
As a result, they would be forced to sell the house and move into a much smaller
apartment, and there was simply no way they would be able to keep all of the things Amy
had collected in her bedroom over the years. She would be forced to throw most of it
away, and so she had resigned herself to the task of searching through the whole lot of it
to decide which things were so important they couldnt possibly be thrown away and
which things she would have to part with. So far, after three attempts, Amy had yet to
throw anything away.
Amy sat down on the floor next to the pile nearest to the waterbed and opened a
large cardboard box to begin sifting through pictures. She had decided to start on
pictures first since they comprised most of the stash and since she knew they would be
the hardest to part with. She began looking through a section titled Jane, 2 nd grade and
saw pictures of an eight year old Jane wearing a stripped shirt with a butterfly stitched in
the corner and sporting a smile with two front teeth, one on the bottom and one on the
top, missing as she climbed onto the bus for her first day back to school. She continued

10
through and saw pictures of Jane dressed as a crocodile, a costume Amy had sewn
together herself, walking through classrooms for a Halloween party Amy had helped
chaperone and later walking through their neighborhood visiting each neighbor for candy.
Every time she saw a new picture she thought of another reason why it should never be
thrown away, and really they were all the same reason reworded in her head. Those
pictures represented the permanent record of Amys life, or her childrens lives, of her
whole familys lives. To Amy those pictures were her past, present, and future because
every time she looked at one, Jane as a crocodile begging Mr. Sanders for another piece
of bubblegum for instance, she could see all the way back to Jane as a baby, and then
Jane the crocodile, and then on to present day Jane the college student, and then past that
to Jane the professional, getting her first job, and then on to Janes wedding, to her first
child, to her whole life.
If Amy had to get rid of these pictures now, then what about the future? What
about when Andrew graduates from college in the Spring? Will she be permitted to take
pictures of that? If she has no more room for the pictures she already has, then how can
she take new one? Amy lived to be able to stop these moments in time and capture them
with pictures. Pictures were permanent and would always be there to remind her of what
it was like, of what her life was like and where it was going, like an illustrated map.
Thats what bothered her the most. Not that she had to throw away old pictures, although
that did bother her, but the fact that it felt like she would never again be allowed to
capture a moment and save it for herself, forever. It was as if someone had told her she
wasnt allowed to go on living.

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Amy reached for her television remote and turned it on before switching the
channel to CNN. She suddenly felt very alone and hoped that maybe some background
noise would make the whole process easier. Amy had made it all the way through Janes
third grade year when a report read by a young blond reporter on the television caught her
attention:
...and concern within the government continues to rise as the sub-prime
mortgage crisis threatens to send the economy into yet another recession. The Federal
Reserve announced today that it plans to cut rates yet again in order to stimulate
economic growth, but CNN has recently learned that former Federal Reserve Chairman
Alan Greenspan has publicly criticized this move by the new chairman, citing that further
rate cuts will simply be like putting a band aid on a gunshot wound. In other news,
Congress announced today that they have just passed a new two hundred and sixty
million dollar federal bailout plan to assist several financial loan institutions that claim
to have lost large amounts of revenue in the last year due to increased rates of
bankruptcy and mortgage foreclosure...
Amy looked back down at another picture of Jane in a hot pink bathing suit
swimming in their community pool. This time John and Andrew were with her, standing
on the side of the pool and watching her swim. The caption Amy had written on the back
read Amys the first one in the pool when it opens up. Summer 97. Amy turned the
television off and sat in silence, staring at the picture for a long time before starting to
cry.
***

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It was a Friday in March when John and Amy finally got everything together and
went out to the Days Inn in the center of their little suburb to officially file their
bankruptcy. Their lawyer had given them instructions on how to find the financial office
once inside the hotel, but both of them were still pretty confused as to why such an office,
which supposedly was operated by the county, would be located in a Days Inn. On the
way in, John joked that it was probably just for convenience so most of the people the
office dealt with no longer had a home and would need a place to live. However, he was
only really half joking and made a mental note of their nightly rates, which he noticed on
a sign outside. The truth was they hadnt found an apartment yet and they had no clue as
to how quickly the bank would move to sell their house.
Both of them got dressed up in their finest attire, as if they were going to church
(something they hadnt done in many years), because for some reason it still felt
necessary to put on the appearance of successful, financially stable individuals even when
they were signing away any rights they had to any of their major possessions. Something
about the thought of showing up to announce ones complete financial failure dressed in
jeans and a cheap shirt made the reality of their situation all the more real and neither of
them could bare it.
A homeless person watching them from across the street might assume they were
from out of town and had come in for either business or pleasure, or maybe both, and
were simply staying at the hotel for a few days. He would probably never guess just how
close they were to being in his exact situation. The only real difference between them
was that the bank hadnt kicked the Stampards out of their house just yet, and so they
were able to put on the appearance of upstanding citizens just like everybody else. If you

13
gave the homeless man a shower, shave, and a suit he could jump right into John
Stampards life and John could jump into his and nobody, other than Amy or the kids,
would ever be able tell the difference.
The twenty-five minutes Amy and John spent in the financial office, once they
found it, were grueling. It wasnt that they had much left to do; most of it had been prearranged by their lawyer. All they really had to do was sign their names on form after
form, indicating that they knew what they were doing and what would come of it and
giving away any claims to ownership they had over their house, or the office house, or
the two cars. To John, every signature felt like one more admission of failure. To Amy,
they all felt like swords chopping the rest of her life away. Once they were done, the
financial officer who was dealing with their case simply smiled and said Youre free to
go now as if they had just been in prison.
They were told to exit through a door on the opposite side of the one they had
entered, which led to a large lobby-type area that obviously belonged to the hotel. They
looked around and saw no fewer than six booths set up, each sporting a different logo on
the front. One was from Sears, another J C Penny. Another booth said Citizens Bank
Savings and Loan while yet another simply said Capital One. When the Stampards
first stepped into the room, each of the people sitting at these booths seemed to perk up
and stop slouching in their seats. They looked quickly between one another and then
back to the Stampards before one young girl, probably not much older than their daughter
Jane, got up from the Capital One booth, which was closest to them, and approached
them.

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Hi, my name is Sally, the Capital One girl said. I would like to take this
opportunity to offer you a brand new, low interest Capital One credit card through our
Fresh Credit program. Keep in mind that you will earn rewards points with every
purchase for anything from gas to flights to cruises.
Hold on a minute, John said, cutting her off. I honestly dont think this is for
us. We just declared bankruptcy.
I realize that, sir, Sally replied. And thats why Im here. Since youre now
debt free due to your bankruptcy you can now instantly qualify for a pre-approved
Capital One credit card through our Fresh Credit program. You see, youve basically
been given a fresh start, a brand new line of credit, and we at Capital One would like to
be the first to offer you this exciting new opportunity to open a low-interest Capital One
credit card. Remember, Capital One never uses blackout dates when you try to cash in
your Capital One Rewards Points, which means you can go anywhere you like whenever
you want.
I dont think you understand, Amy said. I just got laid off from my job and he
just signed away any rights he has to his residual commissions. We have absolutely no
source of income to pay for anything.
Well, then it seems like you could really use a new Capital One credit card,
Maam, Sally replied as she handed them the form to fill out.