1. BE NICE - This may sound silly, but you know the Golden Rule! Nothing builds resentment quite like a rude ill-mannered CLOD. Now, don't get me wrong, I know that sometimes an agent who is not doing his job deserves this, but although it may make YOU feel a little better, it is a LONG TERM MISTAKE. If they made a mistake, point it out and allow them the opportunity to correct it. If they make mistakes continuously, well then, perhaps both of you need to move on to greener repo fields. You to a different vendor and the vendor to a different customer.

2. PAY MORE - WHAT??? The truth is that this is not that important. Some repossession companies may charge one fee for each type of service or has different fees with various lenders all having been negotiated before hand. Ask for a price list and if you can afford it, add 5% to the prices in exchange for having your accounts run as a priority. It Works!!

3. PAY ON TIME - 30 days out is standard, go more than that and the small business owners (most of whom you will be dealing with) , will feel it! But they probably won't say anything. They will resent it and YOUR accounts may suffer as a result.

4. DON'T ASK FOR THE IMPOSSIBLE (ALWAYS) - Most, if not all of your vendors want to do a good job for you and for them. They want your business and they like working for you. But asking for the difficult and/or impossible on a daily basis can be very hard on them. Your vender might even be fearful that if he doesn't perform, he will lose your business. This may force your vendor into situations where he has to lie to you, telling you what he thinks you want to hear, not what actually is happening. This can make it very difficult for you to get the results you want, and you may not even realize why.

5. BE CLEAR - About what it is you want and expect. Which addresses do you want run and how many times? Do you want them to make contact? It could be anything, but without written instructions, it may not be done. If your repossession agent can't follow written instructions, then it is time to give someone else a try.

WITH THESE FIVE EASY STEPS, YOU CAN IMPROVE YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR VENDORS AND GET THEM TO IMPROVE THE SERVICE THEY PROVIDE IN MORE WAYS THAN YOU CAN COUNT…
 

Peter Conrad is an experienced repossessor with an Airline Transport Pilots License (ATP) who has owned a flight school and flown in the Alaskan Bush.

A small number of the accounts that I'm assigned to repossess deal with what are basically ordinary decent people who've made some mistakes or had bad luck, and fallen on hard times. More commonly, my company deals with what I'll call the scofflaws. It seems like it's pretty easy these days to buy a car you can't afford, and when I go pick up a high-priced car in a low-rent area, I often wonder if those folks did some "creative writing" when they filled out their loan application. Naturally such people get behind on their payments, and in some cases never even intended to make any payments. Then there's the third type of repo subject, who keeps seeming to run afoul of creditors (among others) because he or she is - how shall I put it? - kinda dumb. Sometimes these turn out to be my most memorable assignments, and you're about to read an example of why that is.

The job was to repossess a large, late-model pickup truck from a model citizen who wasn't making payments and had disconnected the phone number that the bank had on record. Since the last known address was in my local area, and since my regular local driver had taken a few extra days off for Thanksgiving, I decided to work the account myself. I drove past the address listed looking for signs of life. The house was clearly being lived in, but a knock on the door revealed that there was nobody home. Or at least nobody willing to admit they were home. In this case the house was dark and quiet, and so I was fairly sure there really wasn't anyone home, sure enough that I took the risk of having a look around. There was a garage, more like a barn, with padlocked swinging doors facing the driveway, and covered windows - a possible indication of someone trying to hide a vehicle. Even if I could see the truck in there, though, it wouldn't be legal for me to break in and get it. So I left to go about my other errands.

Later that day it snowed a little, and I decided to pass by my subject's purported residence for another look. This time there was obviously someone home - lights on, and a figure visible moving around in the front window. A half mile down the road I turned around, waited a few minutes, then drove slowly by the house again for another look. Something was bothering me about the picture I was seeing. The residents of the house had obviously arrived since I was there before, but there was no car parked in front of the house, and even more interesting, no evidence of tire tracks in the fresh snow leading up to the garage. There was no evidence of the garage doors having been opened, no footprints in the snow leading up to the front door.

It was clear that I was dealing with someone who not only had a back entrance, but also the sense to use it. To put it another way, it's possible the debtor had some reason to believe a guy like me might already be after him. And in this case, he was right. I considered the possibility of staking out the back entrance of the house, waiting day and night for the truck to emerge. But I wasn't looking forward to sleeping in my car, especially in winter. More important, staking out a back entrance of a house in the country can be tricky; it's difficult to appear unobtrusive when you're the only car around, with no obvious reason to be there. Assuming the stakeout was successful, I would then have to hope I could tail the truck to a place where the driver would park it long enough for me to go get my tow truck (imaging trying to be unobtrusive if you're in the only tow truck around, with no obvious reason to be there).
This was all starting to seem more like an episode of The Rockford Files than any reality that was likely to happen, so I decided to go with the direct approach. There didn't seem to be much to lose by starting there, so I went right up to the door and knocked again. This time a woman answered the door, and rather promptly, I thought, for someone who might be hiding out.

"Hi, my name is Pete. Is Mr. Smith here?" I've changed all the names to protect the innocent.
"No, he'll be back later," said the woman. "You here to buy some firewood?"

I don't know if it's experience or just instinct on my part, but sometimes opportunities present themselves in very subtle ways, and I picked up on this one without skipping more than a beat or two.

"Umm…..yeah! Yes. Yes, I'd like to find out about possibly buying a load of firewood."

"Nothing to find out, really. Give me your address and phone number. Smith will call you with the price and when he can deliver. It'll probably be next week, what with the holiday and all."

"Well, I'm kind of in a bind. I told my wife I'd get the firewood stocked in time for Thanksgiving, and now here it is Tuesday already. If he can make some time tomorrow to deliver it, I'd be willing to pay a little more. Say a $50 bonus?"

The cynical side of me always think it's funny that I say something like "make some time" when I'm talking about someone who doesn't appear to have a steady job taking up any of his other time.

"Maybe could do that," the woman answered. "Gimme your address and number and he'll call and let you know."

I gave her the information and went home. Now only time would tell if I was about to be evaded by a saavy scofflaw, or if the dumb-guy trap I was trying to set would pay off. Smith called me promptly that night and we made a deal for a truckload of firewood. Even with my $50 "bonus", it was a pretty good deal for wood, and he said he would come by my house at the crack of noon the next day to deliver. In poker terms, I was drawing to an inside straight. I was making a low-odds play, and hoping to get lucky.

It would be an understatement to say that this time around, luck was on my side. Just before noon the next day, a large, late-model pickup truck full of firewood pulled up my driveway. Just to be clear: the guy I was trying to find so that I could repossess his truck had just showed up at my house with a load of firewood, in the truck I wanted to repossess. I went out and told him to pull into the carport at one end of my garage, so that I could stack the wood at the back of it. While he maneuvered into the confined space, I had time to casually climb into my tow truck and pull it in front of him, blocking his exit.

It is always the most touchy phase of the interaction when you surprise someone with a repo, and you have to have a plan of action to get the former owner away from the vehicle and off the premises efficiently before an incident can develop. My method of choice is to be nice, very nice, to the subject whenever I can. So, I apologized to Smith for tricking him, and explained that the bank had hired me to repossess his truck. But it wasn't completely a trick: I paid Smith for the firewood, including the extra $50. Then I called a cab and paid for it to take the man home. In the face of all that reality, and not wanting risk losing his free ride, Smith accepted his situation, got in the cab, and left without incident.

So now I'd recovered a vehicle, and gotten a load of firewood in time for Thanksgiving. It turned out to be really good firewood, too. I wish Smith had found a way to keep up his payments; I'm low on wood again, and if he had a means of delivering, I'd place another order. Just for the wood this time, though - pickup truck not included.
 

Peter Conrad is an experienced repossessor with an Airline Transport Pilots License (ATP) who has owned a flight school and flown in the Alaskan Bush.

a. Lying. You will be amazed and thrilled with the continuous fabrications and phenomenal creativity of the employees. From the owner all they way to the lowly field agent. After a while you will honestly (a little pun) believe that they lie just for the shear "sport of it."

b. Thievery. I don't want to get carried away with the benefits of this one. But if it isn't nailed down (and even if it is) it will be gone. From the debtor's purse or wallet to that car stereo just installed, the complaints will flow into your office like a tsunami. With a little luck, most of these will turn into lawsuits. One of the best of the worst of the worst, a company that exemplifies all of these rules (and who shall go nameless), would regularly wait until they had repossessed a truck of the same make and model as their one of their own repo trucks, park it in their shop, remove the engine and transmission, and use it to replace the worn ones from the repo truck. They would then send the repossessed vehicle to auction, with of course the worn out engine and transmission.

c. Grand Theft Auto. This one really goes under the heading of thievery, but when the company you've chosen really starts to go down the tube, so will your repos. Grand Theft Auto is special; when your customer calls in to pay off his loan or has made up his late payments and wants his car back, nothing (I mean NOTHING) is more thrilling than trying to find a pleasant way of telling him that his car is in little pieces in Tijuana, Mexico.

2. Liars. This was also covered under Criminals, but let's face it, you cannot overestimate the negative impact of a good liar. Also, you don't have to be a criminal to be constantly lying. Imagine your surprise when you find out that the repo company you hired has not been running several accounts that you have had out with them for a month at all! First of all the accounts are not being picked up, but even better they could even be billing you for some work that has never been done! This is going to look great for your bottom line. Another good one that you can look forward to is a car that they picked up a few days ago has significant damage to it. But the repo company says that that is the way it was picked up. You come to find out a year later that that very car was being towed along a state highway, broke loose from the tow truck, and hit a light pole. The only way you found out about that was the bill that you just received from the State. Just think of the excitement this will cause! Not to mention all the problems you will have to look forward to with personal property, storage lot security, updates, and of course auction delivery dates. So you thought your life was boring?

3. Lazy. This is by far the most entertaining of the personality traits that you want to be absolutely sure your new repo man or company has. This won't necessarily get you into any legal trouble, but it will send you to an early grave. But who wants to live forever, right? The stress induced by laziness will be worth its weight in gold. When you ask seven times for an update or wonder why the address that is two miles from the repo company's storage lot, has not been run yet, not only will you consider a career change but you may need a vacation just to keep the homicidal thoughts to a minimum.

4. Violent. This is an oldie but a goodie. Within this increasingly litigious society, having a company or individual representing you in the field that is potentially violent is a sure-fired way of getting the blood flowing (figuratively and literally). Just imagine the potential for lawsuits. You don't even have to use your imagination, for it will come to pass as surely as the sun rises in the morning. With the right repo company handling all of your repos, you are virtually guaranteed a violent confrontation - even with something minor, such as a debtor asking to clean out their vehicle prior to it being towed away. The phone calls to your office the next day will really make your day - not only from the debtor, but the police, prosecuting attorney, and the media!

5. Armed. When your new repo company has its first violent confrontation, it would be really good if they were armed. This not only escalates a simple bloody nose into murder, but has the potential of perhaps killing someone who was just nearby. An actual innocent bystander! But as a friend of mine once said, "there are no such things as an innocent bystanders." (I think he was joking.) If you thought the calls from the police, prosecuting attorney and the media were bad before, just wait until there is a murder. Your phone will literally ring right off the hook.

These are just a few of the rules one should adhere to when choosing the worst of the worst (if that's really what you want). But keep in mind: if you just follow these five rules, you will guarantee yourself years of anguish, pain, anger, humiliation, and best of all, enormous financial losses.

On the other hand if you really want to avoid all that unpleasantness, just do the opposite! These few rules are great (for doing the opposite), I reverse them when hiring employees for my own company, and so should you!!
-Pete Conrad

Pete Conrad is the owner of Judgement Recovery Company and experienced repossessor. He also holds an Airline Transport Pilot's License (ATP), has owned a flight school, and flown in the Alaskan Bush.

If you would like to know more about repossessions visit Pete online for your Free Report at: www.judgementrecoveryco.com. Or call 866-486-0899 Toll Free.


This article appeared in Feb 2007 World of Special Finance Magazine

Avoiding Lawsuits When Hiring a Repossession Companies


So you're a collection agent, or maybe a bank officer, and you have some repossessions you need to get done. Easy, right? Just open the phone book and call up the repo company with the biggest advertisement. Anyone can do a repo, right? Well, that can be part of the problem; in many states, anyone can do repossession, without any special licensing or bonding requirements. It is true that a of repossessions are simple: find the car, tow it away (or even just drive it away if you've obtained a key). However, there are plenty of legal pitfalls involved in making sure each and every recovery is done lawfully. The repossession company's job is to make sure they are legal at all times, but the reality is that you can get yourself into trouble if the company you hire does something wrong when acting on your behalf.

The good news is that there a few simple steps you can take to screen repossession companies and select a reputable operator who will do the job right. You want to find out information in three important areas: Policies, Insurance, and Ownership.

Policies
When interviewing a prospective repo agency, ask them about their safety and hiring policies. You want to find out as much as you can about what the rules are, but don't forget also to ask how they enforce the rules. A company that can show you written policies is always a promising prospect, but you'll at least want to find out where the company stands in three key areas.

1. Guns. I can't say it any more simply or emphatically: do not hire a company that permits their employees to carry firearms on a recovery action. Period. Guns equal trouble, and they do not keep the employee safer. Harry Dean Stanton said it best in the movie "Repo Man" - when someone asks his character why he doesn't carry a gun - "Only an idiot gets killed for a car."

2. Background Checks. Does your prospective repo company do background checks on their employees? It's important in this business that you're not sending someone with a criminal record out into the field to recover property. This is especially true if the person in question has a history of theft or violence. There is nothing worse than a repo agent who is likely to start a fight rather than avoid one.

3. Driving record. Ask your prospective company what they know about the driving records of their agents. An employee with a shaky driving record is not necessarily as bad as one who carries a gun or has a criminal history, but you would still run some risk of having property wrecked and people injured by a poor driver.

Insurance
Find out who insures your prospective repossessor (it should go without saying that if a company you're looking doesn't have insurance, run, do not walk, in the opposite direction). Call the insurance company and ask for the repo company's loss run over the last three year period. Obviously, the more insurance claims the company makes, the less likely you are to want to do business with them. This is an area where you might need to make a judgement call. Even the best company will occasionally have a loss, and bigger companies will have more losses because they do many more recoveries. A rule of thumb I recommend is to avoid a company that has more than two or three claims in the past three years. For larger, multi-state companies, make that two or three for each state where the company operates. If possible, also try to find out the nature, or at least the dollar amount, of the losses. A company that has several claims for the occasional ding or dent might be a better bet than one that somehow manages to destroy an entire automobile once in a while during the recovery process.

Owner
Find out who owns the repossession company, and how long that person has been in the repossession business. This can be tricky if you don't get all the details. You may be dealing with a company that has been in business for twenty years, but that company could have just been sold last year to a new owner who has no experience in the business. The way I like to figure things, this qualifies as being in business one year, not twenty. I recommend hiring a company that has been in business at least three years, and has a track record of success and safety that you can check. And, just as you want to avoid a company that has employees with criminal records, make sure you check into the owner of the company. Avoid doing business with a company whose owner has had past trouble with the law.


Checking policies, insurance, and ownership for a company you're considering hiring does not have to be complicated, and is mostly a matter of common sense and doing your homework. However, there is still one additional trap you can fall into if you're not careful: Forwarders. Forwarders are companies that advertise repossession services, often covering a large geographical area, but then farm out the actual recovery work to individual local repo companies. Forwarders can be reputable, but there is an extra layer of management between you and the person actually doing the recovery, and that can cause problems. You've checked the Forwarder and they have a comprehensive policy to avoid lawsuits, but what do you know about the local company the Forwarder will hire to do your recovery? Does that local company have the same policy? Does the Forwarder enforce their policy on all the companies they hire, and if so, how? Often times a Forwarder will make the recovery company they hire aware of their policy, but do nothing at all to ensure the recovery company is in compliance. This can be almost as bad as not having the policy in the first place.

My advice is to be cautious in this area. First and foremost, make sure you understand who is doing the actual repossession work. Don't let yourself in for an unpleasant surprise when you learn, literally by accident, that the company you hired is nothing more than a re-marketing clearinghouse. And if you do want to use a Forwarder, get them to tell you everything you need to know about the actual company that will be physically picking up the car or other property you're trying to get back.

An ounce of due diligence can be worth its weight in gold. Don't be caught out in the cold when someone you've hired to do a potentially tricky job gets it all wrong.

Pete Conrad has been in business for 20 years. He founded and currently runs Judgement Recovery Company, a repossessor that operates in Washington State and Idaho. Prior to that, he taught flying and founded Northway Aviation, a flight school still operating in Everett, Washington, which he ran for 10 years. Having built two companies up from nothing into large and thriving organizations, Pete now shares his experience and advice about business by publishing articles in various journals. He resides in rural Washington State, and still holds an Airline Transport Pilot's license and his Flight Instructor certification.

The Airplane that Repossessed the Car
by Peter Conrad from an article in Specialty Finance Magazine

This has to go down in the history of repossessions (if there is such a thing) as one of the strangest ways to repossess a car…

I had been attempting to repossess a Nissan Sentra from a young man in Twisp, an incredibly small town in central Washington. My repossession efforts up to then were a dismal failure. It went something like this: Went to the given address – nothing. Knocked on the door – nothing. Went back several more times day and night –nothing. Finally was able to catch the mother of this young man at home, and she was…how shall I say… hard to deal with. She was one of the rudest and surliest people I’ve met in this business, and as you may know that’s really saying something. Needless to say, she was of almost no assistance, the only help came in an offhanded comment about her son living in Florida, saying, “If you want it, go get it!”

Florida?! Well I won’t be going down there anytime soon. We’re about as far away as you can get without leaving the continental United States. So I gave the account to my skip tracer to see if she could find a good address for the lender to pursue. Off she went, checking phone numbers, social security numbers, and relatives’ addresses, etc. Anything she could get her hands on to locate this guy. Meanwhile, for the next 10 days I worked on other projects until the verdict came in. After all that work, all that she could find was an aunt’s address in Naples and a phone number and she had left numerous trap line messages but didn’t get any response. Some of them were quite inventive; I know if I were a skip, I certainly would have called. So we sent the address and phone number back to the lender for them to reassign. Before they closed it I wanted to take one more drive-by. Since the debtor lives in such a remote area, I decided to combine a trip to my mother’s house with this run.

Twisp is truly a one-horse town; the main street is Highway 20, a picturesque roadway winding through some of the most beautiful and rugged terrain in Washington state. Other than a few side streets, gas stations, a city hall, a restaurant, and a general store that is all there is. Traveling west on Highway 20, I approached the turn off to the given address, which is on Airport Road (yes, Twisp does have a little airport). The road winds its way around the tiny airport and then rejoins Highway 20. Convinced that I would never find the Sentra, I blithely followed the little road around until the address was in sight. Were my eyes deceiving me or was that a little Nissan Sentra in the driveway? Of course I didn’t bring any paperwork and I couldn’t remember the license plate number. But that’s what they make cell phones for and by some miracle mine worked way out there. Confirming that the Sentra in the drive was the right one, I made a quick call to one of my recovery agents, but because of the location it took two hours for him to arrive and by then it was, of course, gone.

After visiting my mother for the weekend I drove back through Twisp. I could have taken a much shorter route home, but now I was determined. No one likes to be lied to. After being in this business long enough, most get used to it. But not me, it still gets me going and makes me even more determined. So back I go, but again, no Sentra. Time for a different tactic. Who knows, maybe he does live in Florida and was just visiting. Something in the back of my mind said no, he does live around here. He was probably just raiding mommy’s fridge. But I needed help, a spy, someone to drive by several times a day and let me know when that car appeared again. So when I arrived back at the main office, I started making phone calls. Some underpaid hard- working person in one of the local Twisp businesses (such as they are) would be perfect. But what I discovered after three or four calls is that small town people tend to stick together almost no matter how much money you offer them. They would not believe my assurances that the debtor would not know who tipped me off, or even what gave him away. But after eight phone calls I finally found just the person I was looking for: a young man who would simply drive by and call me when he spotted it. Not exactly rocket science. Of course, I would not pay him until after the repo. He readily agreed to a $50 dollar finder’s fee. I gave him all my phone numbers with instructions to call as soon as he spotted the car and I sat back and waited.

I didn’t have long to wait; within 48 hours I got the call. The car was there and had been for five hours! (I guess my instructions about calling the moment he saw it were not clear enough.) Off I went. Twisp is about a two-hour drive, so along with bringing the tow truck, I also had a key. (I was determined to get this car!) By the time I arrived the Sentra was gone. Dejected, I headed back to the office. First, however, I clarified my instructions with my spy, so that I would have more time.

Another week went by before the Sentra showed again. Thankfully, this time my spy called me within minutes of its appearance. Off I went. Again, by the time I arrived the Sentra was gone. This same scenario played out two more times before I got completely fed up! Obviously, the debtor would go over to mommy’s house long enough to raid her fridge, watch some TV and run for his life. Well, the lender was getting anxious and I was getting angry. I needed to be there faster, or at least have the debtor followed when he leaves. Unfortunately, my spy was unwilling to go that far. Small town America strikes again. The only way I was going to get this repo was to get there faster.

With that in mind, I did have one advantage that your average repossessor might not have. I once made my living as a commercial pilot and am still current in several types of aircraft. Best of all I could get from my local airport to the Twisp airport in about twenty minutes. It was worth a try. I could walk from the airport to the debtor’s house in five minutes, either leaving my small plane or bringing a driver to drive the car back to the storage lot. I did have a key after all. So again I waited, worrying about the 50 things that could go wrong with this plan. Mechanical problems, (any airplane I could afford isn’t the greatest but once it starts, it’s fine) weather, etc. Then the call came in – Sunday at 7:00 pm. My field agent, John, met me at the airport and 10 minutes later we were airborne. John was extremely nervous having never been in a small plane before; he said it felt like we were in a motorized box kite. A description not altogether inaccurate. The entire 20-minute flight John gripped the edge of his seat keeping his eyes clamped shut. I think he was praying that the Sentra would be there so that he wouldn’t have to fly back with me.

Upon landing, a process much more frightening than take off, John kept his eyes firmly shut. We taxied over to an unused portion of the airport and started the short hike to the location of the Sentra. It was dark by the time we arrived, so our approach went unnoticed. We could see the dark shape of our Sentra as we made our way stealthily down the drive.

“I hope this works,” John said holding up the key.

“Hurry up!” I replied anxiously.

Slipping the key into the lock, John slid the door open just far enough to slip in. As I climbed in on the unlocked passenger side, the outside porch light came on. With one fluid motion the car came to life and began to roar down the gravel drive. Amazingly, I observed that John drives better in reverse than forward. However, John didn’t have to display his reverse driving skills too long as we arrived at the street. Whipping the car around we tore down the street and to relative safety.

“I don’t think he’ll chase us,” I observed.

“Why?”

“Because there were no other cars in the driveway.”

“Oh.”

At that point, we arrived back at the airport. John dropped me off for my short flight home and for his much longer drive back to the storage lot. As I readied my plane for the flight, I wondered if an aircraft had ever been used in this way before. Then I started thinking maybe next time…a helicopter.

Peter Conrad is an experienced repossessor with an Airline Transport Pilots License (ATP) who has owned a flight school and flown in the Alaskan Bush.

The Repo Man Who Ate the CD Collection
by Peter Conrad from an article in Specialty Finance Magazine

On a Monday morning in January at 2:00 a.m., Adam, a field agent for Acme Adjustors (a repossession agency) is about to repossess a Ford Thunderbird. A Ford Thunderbird whose owner has not made a payment, nor returned any phone calls in 90 days.

Adam is approaching a small ranch style house; the last reported address for the owner. There parked in the driveway is the Thunderbird! Adam’s heart skips a beat and he mutters, “It doesn’t get any better than this.” After a quick check of the VIN he silently tows it out from under a huge willow tree to the street in the early morning light. Next stop, the storage yard.

Upon reaching Acme’s storage yard Adam opens the unlocked driver’s door, and begins his condition report. Mileage, engine, tires, and paint condition are all carefully noted. Personal property inventory: pens, pocket knife, miscellaneous papers, keys, infant’s car seat, and a large CD case. All the items are carefully noted and placed in a storage locker in the corner of the lot. Looking at his watch, it was 3:30 a.m. There was still enough time left for a few more runs before the morning rush hour. Locking the gate Adam hurries down the dusty access road and back on the streets in pursuit of his quarry.

About 15 minutes later Paul, another field agent for Acme Adjustors, was the next to arrive at the dusty storage lot. He had worked at Acme for only a month. He is proud of the way he outsmarted the owner Bill when he was hired. Like all of the field agents Bill hires he was supposed to do a background check on Paul. But Bill’s business had been booming over the last few months and the agents were overworked covering territories that were too large. Bill needed to hire a new field agent. When along came Paul, a seemingly mild mannered experienced agent, who had run his own repossession company for years, and on top of all that came highly recommended by Bill’s mother-in-law, who worked closely with Paul’s wife Cheryl. So Bill put the background check on hold and put Paul to work right away.

Bill’s gut instinct has served him well in the past. The employees of Acme are all hardworking, honest and likeable people. But that was all about to change. Paul smiled inwardly at Bill’s foolishness, “If he had seen what I did tonight to the owner of the Expedition, ole Bill would’ve had a stroke…” He sped down the lot access road. “But I got the truck, it doesn’t matter what I have to do just as long as I get the truck.” Another smile slowly spread across his face as he savagely brought the truck to a stop with gravel flying in front of the locked gate. Throwing the truck into park he jumped out and opened the gate. Two minutes later after maneuvering the Expedition into an unused corner of the lot, Paul begins his condition report. “Let’s see” Paul mutters to himself, “General condition, good, a few scratches though, heh…heh… most from when I dragged it through the bushes, but other than that, pretty good shape. Tires, interior, personal property…nope, none there, the car owner really jumped when I told him if he didn’t get it now he would never get it, because I would put it in a pile and burn it!”

Upon completing the condition report, Paul opened the storage shed that Acme used to store personal property, forms, and completed reports for the next business day. Placing the form on the desk he glanced around the well-lit interior. “Well, well what do we have here?” He eyed the new bag of personal property left by Adam 25 minutes ago. Carefully opening it, he dug through the contents. “Worthless junk,” Paul said in disgust, as he dug further. “Ahh…CDs! Perfect for my collection.” A few minutes later after climbing back into his truck, Paul picked a CD at random, put it into the player and turned up the volume. Throwing the truck into gear he sped down the access road and out into the morning.

The CD collection was not noticed missing until the debtor attempted to redeem his personal property. Bill was shocked that someone could have climbed over his eight foot fence with three strands of barbed wire, and doesn’t leave any other sign of forced entry. But in the back of his mind he thought it might be someone with access. This plus a stolen winch – all since Paul had been hired made Bill very suspicious. The suspicions eventually lead to Paul’s forgotten background check. That check revealed past convictions for burglary, auto theft, assault, and fraud. Later that day Paul was again unemployed, but for Bill the damage had been done. The debtor complained about his CDs. Bill paid for their replacement, but the complaint was still filed with the lender, damaging Acme Adjustor’s reputation. Not to mention the $2,000 to replace the winch, all in less than two weeks. Plus the several breeches of the peace during Paul’s repossession process.

Bill got off easy; he runs a good, honest business, but he had made a mistake. There are many repossession agencies out there that not only have shady types working for them, but are owned by these shady types. Stolen personal property, extra mileage on collateral, and damaged collateral are just a few of the headaches that the wrong repossession agency can create for the lender. Beware of who you hire and watch for a pattern of complaints. Too many indicates a pattern of abuse.

Peter Conrad is the owner of the Judgment Recovery Company.

The Saturday Airplane Repo
by Peter Conrad from an article in Professional Repossessor Magazine

It was one of those rare spring days in western Washington-sunny & warm, almost 80 degrees, and its even a Saturday. I look out across the tie down area trying to spot Greg my former chief pilot and close friend.

"Where is he? I thought, I'm the one who's always late." I mutter to no one particular.
Greg and I became good friends during the years that I started and operated my flight training school. During those years I discovered that to be a friend of his you have to be very tolerant, and have a good sense of humor. Honestly, some of the stunts that he pulled while he was Chief Pilot at any other flight school would have earned him a pink slip, but in mine I would just shake my head, and kept right on muttering to myself. A habit that has never left me. Then Greg emerges from the airport restaurant, strutting across the tarmac towards me, interrupting my train of thought.

Greg is a real ladies man, it never ceases to amaze me how a person who is as wide as he is tall can accomplish this. Long ago I noted that what he lacks in appearance he more than makes up for in boldness, bravado, and pure ego. Three possibly worst traits that a pilot can have. But he is by far the best, most reliable and capable pilot that I have ever employed, and I have had a lot of people fly for me. 

"Nice of you to show up." I comment poking him in his ample belly.
"If you'd pay me more, I might be persuaded to show up on time." Greg retorts smiling. "Where is it."
"Over there." I say pointing at a white and blue Cessna 182. "This is really a bad day and time to be repossessing an airplanes, you know."
"Well, I have to work."

"What about after work?" We have had this conversation many times. Greg works for the city of Seattle as a painter. He would love to work as a pilot, but he doesn't want to give up the security and benefits of his "day job". And he jealously hoards his after work hours for his carousing activities at the local watering holes. This other hobby he pursues with such abandon that he has had more than one drink thrown in his face and met "the girl of his dreams" all in the course of one evening. I've considered replacing him with another pilot, or doing the flying myself, but when push comes to shove there is simply no one better for the job.

With a shrug as a response Greg starts walking toward the parked Cessna. That's when I first notice the SUV approaching our prey, a light blue Tahoe. "Oh, great. Look at that, this guy is going flying!" 

"Maybe, he'll get some fuel. When he goes into pay, we can tow it off." Greg suggests.
"Oh yea, that'll work. There's only about a hundred windows at the cash register and the fuel pump is about 10 feet away from the window. I'm sure he wont notice." I sarcastically retort.
"Come on, let's give it a try."

"How did you get to live so long by making decisions like this?" I pause not really expecting an answer. Then reconsidering "Oh well, you only live once. At the most it will just be extremely embarrassing if he sees us."

A few minutes later the Cessna's engine starts and it slowly makes its way toward the fuel pump.

"Let's get the tug!" I urge

The aircraft "tug" (really a glorified gold cart) was parked behind the flight school office. This flight school I had sold years before to the current owner, and I still am on good terms with. So he offered no objection to the use of the tug. Breathing hard from anxiety as well as the lengthy run across the ramp we arrived at the tug. "Let's go!" I breathed. The battery powered tug surged forward almost sending me over the side as Greg mashes down the accelerator.
"Sorry, I'm not checked out in this." Quips Greg

Greg must have missed the lesson in school that taught-the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, because were careening drunkenly toward he fuel pumps, around hangers, planes, and the occasional automobile. When at last we rounded the last hanger, I fully expected to see our quarry serenely waiting to be fueled. But noooo, there was nothing at the fuel pump; the little Cessna was nowhere to be seen. "Where did it go?" I squeaked.
"Must've gone up, instead of getting fuel." Dan replied

"GREAT…. I guess we'll have to wait till it gets back. I…. THERE IT IS!" In the distance I see it again, the debtor had taxied by the pump and over to the restaurant where it now sat. Its doors wide-open, apparently waiting for passengers. And again, we were off, on our wobbly slow motion pursuit. But this time the Cessna did not move. The debtor had simply parked in front of the restaurant opened all of the doors and walked away. Arriving Greg carefully maneuvered the tug in front of the Cessna facing it and lowered the ramp to the ground. When the ramp hit the ground he eased the tug forward so the nose wheel road up on the ramp. Stepping off I climbed under the Cessna's nose and secured a strap around the tire. Straitening, I found myself looking at a somewhat bewildered woman.

"What are you doing?" She asked in a deep husky voice. A voice that could only belong to a long-time smoker. 

Thinking fast, "The airport manager asked us to move all the aircraft that were parked here, due to the airshow." It sounded good anyway.

"Airshow? There's no airshow this week." A tall slender man replied, seemingly appearing out of thin air. Momentarily dumbstruck, I stare at the man. He adds, "I own this aircraft."

'Oh S..t!' I think to myself. "Well the airport manager asked me to move any planes that park here." 'The manager will really have it in for me when this gets back to him.'

That was the moment that Greg panicked, throwing the tug into reverse he pulled the Cessna forward, and over my foot. Well, it didn't hurt too bad (the Cessna is not very heavy).

"Where's he going!?" Demands the debtor, looking after his plane which is now racing across the tarmac, miraculously Greg is not weaving drunkenly as before.

"We'll drop it off at the terminal building." I say as the debtor shoots me a hostile look. "Sorry, airport rules." As I jog after Greg, I check over my shoulder to see if angry debtor man is following, but he is not. Gathering up his belongings he heads back to the friends car for the short drive to the terminal building, and his Cessna.

"You ran over my foot! Thanks!" I say accusingly. "What were you thinking?" I get no reply as we guide the Cessna into the hanger three rows down from the terminal building. "Well, I better call this one in." Since the debtor is likely to call the airport office before he calls the police (after all it was airport personnel who took his plane in the first place) I start with the airport management first. After making the required calls and with the Cessna secured Greg gives me a ride back to my car As we pass the terminal building I slide down low in the seat-like a child trying to hide from his angry father after breaking some irreplaceable object-to avoid being recognized by the debtor and his friend that were milling around in front of the building, waiting for a plane that will never arrive.

-Pete Conrad is a aircraft repossessor with an Airline Transport Pilots License (ATP) who has owned a flight school and flown in the Alaskan Bush.

If you would like to know more about Aircraft Repossessions visit Pete on line for your Free Report www.judgementrecoveryco.com 

"THAT MAN STOLE MY TRUCK!"
by Peter Conrad from an article in Specialty Finance Magazine

Tales of Auto and Airplane repossession with a healthy "dose" of pure HATE.

At Judgement Recovery Company, we repossess airplanes nationwide and we're pretty good at it. But we also repossess your garden-variety car, boat, RV and pickup trucks in Washington State. There was a repossession that stands out above all else in my mind as unique.

Okanogan County in Washington State is somewhat unique in that if a person wants to escape city life and has any sort of temptation to be gainfully employed, he would, by moving here, have a lot of company. When I first moved here, many told me that this area is depressed and the people living here want to work. But, what I found was that some, not all, have no desire to work and were much better at avoiding honest work with excuses and tall tales than actually working. An example comes from a handy man I hired to repair various items around the house. It took him three days to complete a small carpentry job in my barn. Now mind you, he only worked (and billed) me for three hours but it still took him three days!! When I asked him, "How will I get a full days work out of you?" His reply, "By giving me one week to do it in." Now this didn't make me mad, it simply illustrates the mindset around these parts.

It all started as an ordinary Key Bank repossession, a 1997 Ford F150 4X4m color: green. What made it unusual (at first glance) was the address; it DID NOT exist! My first clue was that the street that the debtor's house was located on, (later we found out it was a trailer) hade both his name and the co makers name as the street name. 

Once again, I was forced to call upon my over-worked skip tracer to locate Mr. Credit Bandit, or to be more precise, his street! So down she went to the County Assessor's Office to look at their map, which as it turns out, is a lot better than any store, bought variety. (I mean, after all, they do have to find these people to collect taxes from them!) After some discussion and looking at several maps, as well as aerial photographs, she had the location about 20 miles in the hills surrounding our hometown. 

The location sounded fairly easy to find, located off state Highway 20 past the 218 mile marker, there will be a blue sign "JIMMY-ANNA" marks the road or driveway. But, alas, no matter how many times my employee drove up & down the main road, he could not find the sign, the road or even the correct driveway! We went back to the Assessor's Aerial photos, more maps and more directions. This time he found it but was unsure if it was the correct drive. It is unmarked, had several closed cattle gates on it, very rough & steep was the description given. Rough and steep was an understatement, it was too much for the tow truck to handle. (Mine at least!) So, on to plan B. Take my own four wheel truck with a key and drive it away! Later that same afternoon, I did just that with my field agent John with me. We began the climb up into the dry hills of Tonasket. Our first obstacle was finding the exact location of the road that led to this location! We had copies of every aerial photo available, maps (hand drawn) and directions from the Assessor. We went down (& up) several roads and asked neighbors if they knew Mr. Credit Bandit, all to no avail. Finally, through sheer good luck or stubbornness, we drove down one unmarked dirt road, past two closed cattle gates and up a steep and very rough incline for several miles. We were just about ready to turn around, when we spotted a small plastic sign that read, "Jimmy-Anna hill ranch rd." Voila…the lost is finally found. With some excitement and encouragement, we continued. Much later the so-called road leveled off and we rounded a bend, and before our eyes was the Jimmy homestead. Consisting of a dilapidated school bus, small garden, horse pasture, fifth wheel trailer and (much relief!) a Ford F150! Since it was the middle of the day and people around these parts are not shy about open gunplay, I opted for the direct approach. Knocking on the trailer door (Is that a Country Western Song?) repeatedly, and receiving no answer, I called out thinking maybe someone could be near with a high-powered rifle? Nope, no one answered, nor much to my relief, fired upon me. 

Well, since I couldn't get the tow truck up here, I made a key for the unit. The F150 was in fair condition and the VIN number matched, we were in business. The only problem was that it was filled with 55-gallon drums of water. No well, so these pioneer types have to haul water in, or too cheap to put in a well? I realized these barrels are going to be a problem, he would want them back, and if they were empty, it would be an easy matter to unload them, but they were full and each one weighed somewhere or upward of 500 pounds? I decided to pass on that exercise! I saw that the load was secured quite well; after all, he had made it up here with the full barrels in tact. So I closed the tailgate, climbed in and turned over the ignition. It fired right up; so back down the adventurous "road" we went with John behind me going as fast as possible under the conditions. 

Arriving at the bottom of the road, we were on the home stretch of "Jimmy-
Anna Ranch Rd.", on to the final straight that intersects the highway. I began to accelerate, John close on my tailgate…. but to my left on a parallel road, I noticed a Ford Explorer heading in the opposite direction come to an abrupt stop. I observe two faces intently watching me. "Oh, Oh," I think, "Could this be the debtor Jimmy and his girlfriend Anna"? Well, I'd already legally repossessed the unit, but now I just want to avoid any violence. I speed up even more, the highway approaching rapidly. The Explore is moving now, I notice, in reverse backing toward the highway at a high rate of speed for reverse! And dust is billowing everywhere around them. 

Now there is a dilemma! Unfortunately, I have to turn in the direction of this parallel road they are barreling down in reverse! The other direction is a dead-end about 15 miles out and I could visualize the debtor in hot pursuit of me the whole 15 miles until I ran out of road! I arrived just tense moments before the Explorer reaches the road, and with no traffic, I dart onto the road as quickly as possible, accelerating more with each passing second. Apparently not wishing to damage his explorer, Jimmy stops short of the highway. Or so I thought! Then he runs out onto the road in front of me crossways on the highway and I was going about 50 mph at that time! Now, at this point, a "normal" person would not run out in front of a fast moving vehicle for any reason, after all, if he thought I was a thief why would I stop for him? Obviously, this Credit Bandit is no normal person!

Swinging the F150 hard to the right and onto the shoulder of the road, I missed him by about three feet, a sigh of relief and I'm on my way! John however was not so lucky. Driving my full sized truck and being a few seconds behind me, he was forced to stop for the Explorer blocking the highway. 

Whereupon, the driver jumps out of the Explorer, approaching John, who has rolled up the windows and locked the doors. Mr. Credit Bandit is screaming at him, "That man stole my truck! You have no right on my property, No right! John rolled the driver's side window down a mere inch, and told him "Just take it easy, your bank asked us to come out and pick up the F150. If you have a problem with it, call Key Bank." John spoke in a modulated voice in an effort to calm the debtor down. The debtor exclaims, "You had no right to go up there, it was Trespassing, no right!" John said, "Well, I don't know about that, why don't you call your bank and see what you can work out with them?"

At this point, Jimmy's face is turning an interesting shade of red fringed in purple, as his veins were popping out on his neck to an unsafe limit. Every time he speaks, his words are coming out with a squeaking quality and liberal amounts of spittle are spewing from his lips. Quickly his words degenerate into a lengthy string of curses and as he rounded the truck to kick at the truck door, John accelerates and manages to pass by the enraged Jimmy, sending up a small cloud of dust from the shoulder.

I was far enough ahead, that I could relax a little, although it is about 20 miles back to the storage lot, I figured I would arrive without any further problems and best of all, nobody was following me. However, John wasn't there either. I knew John would be fine, he has handled situation like this before with no problems. Just to be on the safe side though, I called the local police to inform them that John was being stopped on the highway and well off Jimmy's property. I also informed them of the repossession so they would know it was not stolen.

Later that evening, the County Sheriff called and informed me that a complaint had been filed. According to Jimmy, our unfriendly Credit Bandit, I had not only hit him with his own truck, but he had several rifles in the truck. Well, Both of those bits of information were a surprise to me! At the time, I had just completed a personal property affidavit with a witness. We sure didn't find any guns in the F150! I guess Jimmy thought if you're on a roll, you might as well get out of it all that you can. Maybe he thought the police would come out to the storage lot if they thought there were guns in the truck. 

The next day, very early, the phone calls began. The sheriff with more complaints from Jimmy, all about his guns, hit and run and just about everything else he could think of under the circumstances. When the sheriff wasn't responsive to his accusations, he called our company office, ranting and raving about his water barrels, guns and of course, the hit and run accusation. He went on and on. We made arrangements with the sheriff to return Jimmy's personal items from the truck including his now empty water barrels. No guns were found anywhere. So all seemed to have come to an end…

Tonasket is a very small town and although as a repossessor, I have a thick skin, it still irritated me that Jimmy was out there telling folks that I had stolen his guns and run him down with his own truck. It began to get under my skin. 

A short time later, I purchased my first personal aircraft. Now, mind you, being in this business, I'm not exactly rolling in money, but I managed to save for a long time, sacrificed things so I could have my own airplane to fly from here to there during my all too rare days off. 

The first day I tried to fly my used (but new to me!) airplane, it wasn't running properly. I didn't know anyone at the Tonasket airport, so I asked the first person I saw hanging around the airport. At these little airports, there is always someone around. He said he didn't know of any mechanic that worked out of Tonasket but there was a mechanic's business card on the wall in the "pilot lounge" which is a filthy shack about 100 yards away from where we were standing. The card read "Jimmy Thompson Aircraft repair & restoration" Why does that name sound familiar? Then sudden realization! Oh great, if I have this guy work on my plane, the next flight I take will probably be my last! 

Needless to say, Karma does exist, and I obviously had to find another mechanic. The irony of this situation wasn't wasted on me. 

As I was driving home my mind began to work…hmmmm…if he wasn't able to make his car payments, would someone be looking to repossess his airplane? After all, I do repossess those as well!!

-Pete Conrad is a aircraft repossessor with an Airline Transport Pilots License (ATP) who has owned a flight school and flown in the Alaskan Bush.

If you would like to know more about Aircraft Repossessions visit Pete on line for your Free Report www.judgementrecoveryco.com 

Mexico or Busted 

My client had a big problem.         

The call came in, as it almost always does, during late afternoon about five minutes before I was going to leave the office. Thanks to the cell phone, of course, I never really leave, but I still like to pretend the work day is wrapping up when I walk out. But now I had Jerry (not his real name), a bank vice president, on the phone. He needed my help, and naturally it wasn’t just another KIA repossession; this time, the property to be recovered was an airplane. 

When someone like Jerry finally gets around to calling me, it is usually with a note of desperation. It was unusual for Jerry’s bank to make aircraft loans, but this particular loan had been made as a favor to his own friend. This friend, whom I’ll call “Skip”, had taken the airplane to Mexico, which was expressly forbidden by the loan agreement, and now Skip was refusing to return the aircraft, and was missing payments. To top it all off, he had allowed the aircraft insurance to lapse. In addition to being betrayed by a supposed friend, Jerry was about to have some serious explaining to do about a $100,000.00 loan that was behind on payments, and the collateral for that loan, which was completely out of reach in a foreign country. After listening to Jerry’s tale of woe, I started feeling a little desperate myself. I wanted to help, but having never even attempted to repossess an aircraft outside the U.S., I didn’t know what I should tell him. Nevertheless, I didn’t want disappoint this good customer (or maybe it was my ego that came to the rescue), so I agreed to make the attempt.

The main thing you need to know about repossessing an airplane is that it’s a lot different from repossessing a car. Cars are easier to hide, but on the other hand you can’t just have an airplane key made and then surreptitiously jump into the plane and fly it away. Taking to the air in a plane whose condition and airworthiness are unknown is extremely dangerous, and does not lend itself to having a long flying career. Nor can you back a tow truck up to the plane and tow it down city streets to your storage yard. Moving an airplane on city streets is usually illegal, and impractical anyway, if you remember that, with wingspan, your vehicle is 35 to 40 feet wide. No, repossessing a plane requires a more “creative” approach. And keep in mind, these specialized problems would all be true if the plane were at the closest airport to my house; now I’d just agreed to try and grapple with them in a foreign country! 

In my experience, Mexico is a haven for lost vehicles - lost from the bank’s eyes, that is. Cars, boats, trailers, RV’s - you name it, it has disappeared in Mexico. And make no mistake - Mexico is a big country. I ponder this as I finally leave my office and walk out into the late afternoon sunlight. How am I going to find this small twin engine airplane, without having the slightest idea of where to look? Or maybe the question should be, “How will I get out of this job without making a complete fool of myself?” Another unpleasant thought was that of committing some legal blunder while trying to secure the plane, and ending up in jail. In jail in Mexico, that is, a couple of thousand miles from home.  

The next morning I was still wishfully thinking the whole thing would get called off. Maybe Skip would call the bank, have a change of heart, and turn over the plane. Sometimes when a lender discovers that a particular repossession will be more trouble than it’s worth, they will make a more forceful (or more attractive) offer and ultimately sort things out with the debtor. But this was not to be. The fax machine happily churned out page after page of paperwork from the bank: evidence that they had the right to the aircraft, some legal necessities, and other information, but all screaming the same thing at me: “What had I gotten myself into?” Looking over the papers, I was struck by how little information there actually was. Some social security numbers, last known USA address and last known business address. The only current and apparently useful scrap of information was a business name that Skip was allegedly using in Mexico. “Orion Air” - not a very Hispanic sounding name, so probably our American disappearing act. Among other pieces of information Jerry couldn’t provide me was what business they were using the aircraft for. The bank didn’t even know what the “tail number” was (this is the aircraft registration number visible on the tail section of every aircraft). Fortunately, I did at least have the plane’s serial number. 

The last known USA address was probably not going to be much help, but still, to be thorough, I went through the motions of all the basic tracing techniques. I checked for other residents at the same address, and also checked all the addresses around the target address. Sometimes former neighbors can tell you a lot about someone who has disappeared, but not in this case. I was actually able to get a few of those neighbors to talk to me on the phone, but no one could tell me much. So I stared at my pile of useless information, trying to think of the next step. 

After about an hour, the phone rang. It was Jerry, and thankfully he wasn’t already asking if I had picked up the aircraft yet. Also thankfully, he had some additional information to pass on. It seems that Skip had once called in to let the bank know what his new mailing address would be. The address itself was a Mexican post office box, so it would probably not be anywhere near where the airplane was hiding out, but at least we had the name of a city to work with. I re-aimed my basic search tools at this city, and lo and behold, came up with…nothing. No record of any company with “Orion” in the name at all. No record of Skip’s name anywhere in Mexico. Skip had covered his tracks well, and he probably figured a PO box address was safe enough, because we wouldn’t be able to trace him with that information alone. I was beginning to think Skip might turn out to be right about that! 

I briefly considered giving up, but as I wracked my brains for ideas, I realized I had one more ace up my sleeve, and his name was Esteban. 

Back in the days when I ran a flight school, Esteban came up from Mexico to do all his flight training (flight training is less expensive in the US than almost anywhere else in the world). He was probably the most naturally gifted pilot I ever trained, and he earned his way by becoming a licensed airplane mechanic and working for my school. But that was years ago – Esteban was now an airline captain for a major Mexican carrier. So I had a Spanish-speaking friend in Mexico, with possible connections to the Mexican aviation authorities. If I was going to pull this off, Esteban was the key. 

I could almost hear him smiling on the other end of the phone line as I described my predicament to him. Esteban’s English was never all that good, but I could still hear a tone in his voice that suggested to me I was being naïve. Of course he could find out something from the aviation authorities. Not through official channels, naturally, but this being Mexico, it would probably be easier than getting information from the American FAA. All that was required was a nominal transfer of funds to the right person. I don’t want to get in anyone trouble by calling it a bribe, so I’ll just say it was an informal service fee, and well worth the money. 

As it turns out, the airplane had to have entered the country on a flight plan, whether or not it used US air traffic control services. And there had to be a record of the pilot, presumably Skip, clearing customs at the same airport where the plane was landed. Customs records, you say? Another informal service fee. Within a few days, Esteban called me back to report they had matched up a flight plan with the tail number I was looking for, and a name with a customs record. We had zeroed in on the airport, and it was an airport within a reasonable distance to the mailing address my client had provided. With Esteban as my interpreter, I placed several conference calls not only to the authorities at that airport, but also all of the aviation-related businesses there. From one of said businesses we learned that our wayward plane had indeed bought fuel at the airport. Getting closer! But nobody there had rented a parking space or hangar to the plane, and the more people at the airport I talked to, the more it seemed clear the plane was no longer there. Probably our friend Skip had entered the country at one airport, cleared customs, gassed up, and disappeared to some other airport in the country. So close, yet still so far. 

I was re-energized by my near-success, though, and the ideas started flowing. I got ahold of some aviation charts and drew a 50-mile radius circle around the approximate location of the mailing address. There were numerous airports charted within the circle I drew. We had already ruled one of them out. So, Esteban and I could systematically call everyone at every airport and eventually, maybe, have some luck. But then I had to ask myself, if I were making even a half-hearted effort to hide an airplane, what kind of airport would I choose? They say that to catch a crook you have to think like a crook, so on instinct alone I decided to try a medium-small airport with no control tower, about halfway out from the center of the circle. 

At this point Esteban cautioned that we should have a plan in place to secure the airplane if we should happen to find it. If someone was renting a parking space to our debtor, that person might well tip off Skip that he’d been found, and the plane could get moved before it could be secured. Esteban suggested that he could arrange ahead of time to get the airplane swiftly “held” (whatever that meant, I didn’t want to know) once we found it. He would do this with assistance from unnamed Mexican aviation authorities - another informal service fee! 

My instincts turned out to be good, or more likely I just got really lucky. Approximately the fourth or fifth call we placed was to an airplane service business at the airport I’d selected, and we hit the jackpot. The plane was parked in plain sight, in a space that the service company had rented to “an American”. Esteban followed up with a call to his contact, and, right on cue, the airplane was taken in for some “involuntary” maintenance. That is to say, an informal service fee occurred, and the folks at the airport moved the plane into the back of their large maintenance hangar, blocked it in by parking several other airplanes in front of it, kept an eye on it by day, and locked the large, heavy hangar doors at night. 

Mission accomplished! 

Or to put it another way, it was all over except for the shouting. And it was Skip doing the shouting. With his airplane out of reach, we had finally caught the attention of our wayward debtor. It turns out he was using the plane for some sort of charter operation, and now he had paying customers who were stranded! In my business you learn to listen quietly while people blame you for all the mistakes that they themselves have made. So now I had Skip on the phone, telling me how it’s my fault his passengers are stranded, and how he’s just trying to run a business, and assorted other nonsense. Finally he wears himself out, calms down, and realizes there is only one way out of his problem (it happens that way just about every time). But guys like this are always scheming, too, and Skip is no exception. He offers to send one payment right away, and then resume the normal payment schedule. Since he was *months* behind on payments, it’s unlikely that any bank would have gone for that offer, and given what a merry chase he’d led us all on, Jerry’s bank wasn’t in the mood for any negotiation at all – they demanded full and immediate repayment. Skip threw another fit when they rejected his offer – like I said before, you get used to that sort of behavior. 

Within a day or so, and just as I was getting to work on the complicated arrangements for bringing the airplane back across the border, came the surprise end to the story. Skip paid off the loan! Somehow, he got a new loan at some other bank and paid off my client. I was puzzled by how quickly he was able to refinance, but you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. We had the airplane unpacked from the back of the hangar and put right back in the parking space where we found it. It was really the perfect solution, since everyone got their money, Skip got his plane, and we didn’t have to deal with the hassle of bringing the airplane back. And I decided I really didn’t want to know how Skip found a bank willing to lend him more money. I just hope that bank doesn’t call me to get the airplane again when Skip starts missing his payments. 

Pete Conrad owns and runs Judgement Recovery Company, a repossessor that operates primarily in Washington State and Idaho. Prior to that, he taught flying and founded Northway Aviation, a flight school still operating in Everett, Washington. He resides in rural Washington State, and still holds an Airline Transport Pilot’s license and his Flight Instructor certification.