Pat Moten works a desk job at an automotive service center, but he’s the kind to come out from behind a desk and help push a broken-down car up the service ramp and into the garage when needed. He played right guard for the Fairfield High football team, so he knows how to get in back and push, which is what he was doing the moment that everything went south for him more than two years ago.
As he was putting his full weight into it, “for some reason the owner sitting in the driver’s seat put the car in reverse,” is how he told it. “My left foot was caught in a crack in the pavement and my ankle snapped.”
My left foot was caught in a crack in the pavement and my ankle snapped.
Rushed to an emergency room, he had his ankle set and put in a cast, and was sent home to Fairfield from his job in Oakland to ice and elevate it. It was his first workplace injury in 20 years. When the swelling did not go down, he was told he needed surgery for a broken fibula and damaged Achilles tendon. After a two-hour surgery, he went home to start the recovery all over again. In his second year of recovery, he lost his job and he lost his wife, who walked out, leaving him with three kids still at home.
The bills started to rise and he fell behind on his rent and his car payment. The one thing that was getting him by was his workers’ compensation check, $2,100 every two weeks. He was living for those checks, and in June he got his left leg onto the scooter that he uses to get around and went out to the mailbox on the designated day.
No check.
“I was completely busted,” he said of the day he learned that workers’ comp only lasts for two years. He’d met the expiration date and he was still on the leg scooter. “Every last one of my bills were late,” he said. “It caused a lot of stress, it was ugly, and I was desperate. I found myself in a situation that I never thought I’d be in in my life.”
He’d burned through his savings of $5,000, and along the way his employer had become his former employer. “The people at my old job never even called to check on me,” he said. “They didn’t care.”
Much to my surprise, they came to my aid when I needed it the most,” he said. The rent is $2,200 a month. He could downsize, but he still has two kids living with him while attending Fairfield High, and they need the stability
His estranged wife cared enough to suggest he contact The Chronicle Season of Sharing Fund, which is where his luck turned. The fund works across the nine-county Bay Area region to prevent homelessness and hunger among residents in need. In July, he was referred to Viola Robertson of Benicia Community Action Council, a social service agency.
“We help a lot of people in Solano County,” said Robertson, “but when he told me his story I knew that the system had dropped him.” She took his report and documented it all. A check for his back rent was sent to his landlord within five days.
“Much to my surprise, they came to my aid when I needed it the most,” he said. The rent is $2,200 a month. He could downsize, but he still has two kids living with him while attending Fairfield High, and they need the stability.
His ankle needs stability, too. He is trying to stretch and strengthen it through “therapy, therapy, therapy,” he said. But he does not expect to get back to where he was, which is tough on a guy who grew up playing tackle football and became a boxer as an adult, and was never injured.
“My ankle is good, but I have permanent nerve damage in my foot,” he said. “It’s hard to hobble out of the shower on one foot. It is uncomfortable putting on my sock, and I have a permanent limp.”
He needs a cane, and he’s not yet 50. For two years, every bit of luck he had was bad. But he never felt sorry for himself. Every Sunday, his daughter Cicely Moten drove him to Mount Calvary Baptist Church, which he’s always attended as part of an extended family that could fill two rows of pews.
“It was hard, but he kept his faith” said Cicely, an actress who moved home from Los Angeles to help out. “My dad always keeps a positive attitude.”
I’m slowly getting back to where I was, and I feel optimistic,” he said on a day that he was still at his desk an hour past quitting time, clearing a backlog of paperwork.“I feel like I can get my life back together. But I’m not there yet.
It paid off in June, when Moten got a call from Darren Fang, who’d worked with him at the auto shop in Oakland. Fang was now running the service center at McKevitt Volvo in San Leandro. He offered Moten the job as assistant service manager.
“Pat pays a lot of attention and detail to customers’ vehicles,” Fang said. “He’s not just trying to make money. He genuinely cares.”
The hours are 7 a.m. to 5 p.m., which means Moten has to leave home at 5:45 in the morning and doesn’t get home until 6:30 at night. Moten jumped at the offer with one caveat — no more pushing stalled cars into the shop. His left ankle is still weak, but his Toyota Camry is an automatic. He’s been back at work for two months, which has helped him forget about the two years he lost.
“I’m slowly getting back to where I was, and I feel optimistic,” he said on a day that he was still at his desk an hour past quitting time, clearing a backlog of paperwork.“I feel like I can get my life back together. But I’m not there yet.”
Sam Whiting (he/him) is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. Email: swhiting@sfchronicle.com