Another botched ‘courtesy’ tow: Philly woman pulled over in Virginia for driving her ‘stolen’ car

Julia Lipkis hopped in her car last week for a much-needed Southern vacation. Shortly after crossing into Virginia, she noticed several police cars following her.

The 28-year-old Philadelphia resident thought maybe there was an emergency up ahead, so she pulled over. But the officers did the same.

One approached Lipkis with her hand on her holstered gun.

“The officer in front was very aggressive, saying, ‘Let me see your hands!’” Lipkis said, recalling the frightening encounter.

Police told her they were investigating whether she was driving a stolen vehicle. But Lipkis was driving her own car, a 2010 Honda Fit.

She quickly realized the source of the problem: the dreaded Philadelphia “courtesy” tow.

Back in December, her car, which had been parked legally on South Street, mysteriously disappeared. Apparently, it had been towed to make way for construction, but neither the Philadelphia Parking Authority nor the Philadelphia Police Department could tell her who towed it or where.

Lipkis, who works in market research and recently moved to the city, said a police officer advised her to report the car stolen to keep it on their radar — even though it likely hadn’t been stolen.

“They were very sympathetic, but they said this happens quite a bit,” Lipkis said of her encounter with Philadelphia police. “They kind of made it clear this was the best chance I had of finding my car other than walking around the city.”

After filing the stolen-vehicle report, Lipkis did just that: She walked in concentric circles for more than two hours. Eventually, she found her Fit on a side street, and reported that to police. They were supposed to remove it from the stolen-vehicle database.

“Apparently, it was never taken off the list,” Lipkis said. “I don’t know quite what went wrong.”

Many things go wrong when it comes to the Philadelphia courtesy towing, the disorganized process in which the Philadelphia Parking Authority, police, or private tow companies relocate legally parked vehicles to make way for construction or special events.

The Inquirer has reported on residents who have spent weeks trying to find their cars, sometimes a mile or more away, because there is no record of the tow. Some have been forced to pay hundreds of dollars in fines and fees after they were towed into an illegal parking space, then later ticketed, booted, or impounded by the PPA.

City officials appear to have made no effort to fix the long-standing problem.

Other cities and states use centralized computer-based systems to help drivers find their cars. Philadelphia still relies on a pre-internet system of handwritten notes and fax machines. Private towers have been known to not even bother telling the city where they leave the cars.

As for Lipkis, she spent about 90 minutes on the phone last week, parked outside a northern Virginia gas station, before she could get the go-ahead to drive her own car again. She said she was bounced around within the Philadelphia Police Department, with one person suggesting that she might need police in Virginia to confirm the car isn’t stolen.

“Everyone was very nice, but there was this sense that there was no established protocol,” Lipkis said. “It gets pushed to police, and they don’t really have the resources or desire to deal with it. It’s so low-priority for them.”

A Philadelphia police spokesperson was unable to provide an explanation this week of what happened.

Lipkis’ case is almost identical to that of Mary Henin, a public defender who was surrounded by police in New Jersey last year and ordered out of her 2008 Nissan at gunpoint and placed in handcuffs.

Months earlier, Henin’s car had been courtesy towed to make way for tree-trimming in West Philly. She had reported it stolen, as advised, then followed up with police when she spotted it a few blocks from her home.

Police said at the time that Henin’s car was mistakenly not taken out of stolen status once it was located.