Credit Card Theft — Too Close To Home

By MICHAEL SCHENKLER

I don’t have a column this week.

Actually, I do. This is it. My column, "Not4Publication" is my column this week and every week; only I don’t have anything to write.

THE PURLOINED CARD: Actually, this is Lil’s card. I cut mine into pieces after Citibank notified me that someone had counterfeited it and run up an $11,000-plus tab in Pennsylvania.

You see, I returned from Florida last weekend and with a shortened work week and our editor beginning her vacation (Tamara, enjoy yourself) my workweek filled much of my reading, web surfing and thinking time which frequently inspires my writing. So, as I sit at home on Sunday afternoon I am without the inspiration I usually have to begin writing my column.

I almost always write on the weekends. The workweek is much too hectic to find the several hours to do justice to my weekly words. Writing a weekly column just ain’t easy. Especially when you have a full time job of running a newspaper that interferes with your creative moments. Compound that with playing catch-up and fill-in editor and you reach a Sunday afternoon crisis of non-preparation.

Like everything else, writing is largely preparation. Although I rarely put ink to the paper (actually computer printer toner to the page) before the weekend, column ideas, items and leads bounce off my busy being all week long. Not so this past week. Or perhaps, my energy was elsewhere. But here I sit with a full page to fill and lots of empty space on the paper and in my head. And a Giants football game, men’s tennis finals and a dinner appointment add to the problem.

The column, which varies in length, would normally be a half page on a slow week. This is not a normal week. With Tamara on vacation and a 64-page paper, I either fill more space now or face the problem of filling more space later. That’s not usually the game. We usually have more quality stuff than space but proofing and editing is a time consuming process and our chief cook and bottle washer is busy cooking and playing with bottles in New Orleans while the rest of us struggle in her absence. It’s really not that bad, but Tamara like the rest of us need to feel missed. We miss you T. Have a good time and hurry back.

Identity Theft

So there I was Friday afternoon in the newsroom, reviewing the progress on this week’s feature on stolen identity and credit card numbers with crime reporter Liz Goff and acting editor Steve McGuire. As always, I’m reminding them to find a local angle to the story — find the Queens gal or guy who was a victim of such a crime.

On personal reflection, I had been rather impressed by the credit card companies’ attempt at fighting credit card fraud. I had just returned from Florida where in the corporate store of Levenger — a catalogue for readers — my very own Citibank Gold was declined. It took a quick call on the cell phone to the 800 number on back of the card to straighten things out. We had just been in Orlando vacationing big time, Lil and Allison made a stop at the Boca Raton Mall, Town Centre and the three of us sought refuge from the sun at a marvelous flea market. We were giving the ol’ credit card a real workout.

The voice on the other end of the phone asked if I had received the message they left on my home machine. I’ve gotten such calls before in the office when our pattern of charging has changed. It seems Citibank and I assume other credit card issuers call cardholders to verify they are still in possession of their cards when the computer picks up pattern changes. The Citibank operator asked a couple of questions to confirm my identification; satisfied I was me and we were charging, she reactivated my card. Lil was really happy.

Now that was a pretty local angle for our feature. But read on it gets a lot more real.

I leave the newsroom and begin a meeting in my office to review this week’s PRESS news budget. The meeting is interrupted by a phone call from Citibank.

"Hello, Mr. Schenkler, this is Citibank security, I think we have a problem"

Really, what?" I respond.

Where are you?" she asks.

"I’m in my office, you just called me."

"Please check to see that you have your Citibank credit card."

"I’m sure I do, why?"

"Please check," she insists.

I check; I have it; I inform her.

We go through the quick Citibank ritual questions so that she can confirm that I am me.

The Citibank operator informs me that there have been 26 charges for over $11,000 made in Pennsylvania on that day. It was Friday, mid-afternoon. All the charges, she says were made on my card — they can distinguish between cardholders on the same account.

Since I was in possession of my card, she concluded that somehow they got my name and credit card number and forged a credit card. The charges were being made in person using a physical card not phone in or computer charges. Those require a delivery address and the thief is telling authorities where they are.

My thief or thieves were out there with what seemed to be my card with their phony version of my signature on back charging up a storm on my account.

"As soon as we get another request for charge authorization on your card, we will call the authorities," she informs me.

She reads me a batch of charges to determine where Lil and mine ended and the fraudulent ones began.

It’s pretty clear. It seems that the day’s 26 charges in PA were the fraudulent ones.

There was a charge declined earlier in the day in Manhasset. "That must have been Lil," I tell her. "My wife’s day is probably ruined."

"Worry not," the Citibank operator said, I’m canceling your cards and overnighting new ones to you." "You’ll get a printout to verify which charges were fraudulent."

I thank her; she thanks me. We hang up.

Not So Fast

Saturday morning UPS delivers two shiny new credit cards to my house. Each is covered with a sticker informing that you must call an 800 number to activate.

I dial. I am asked to touch pad in the new credit card number. I get an operator. I get asked the Citibank ritual questions. I am told my new card is now activated. Charge away.

Saturday night we go out to dinner. . .

My card is declined. Luckily, I also have a Discover card; they accept it.

I come home and call the Citibank 800 customer service number printed on the back of the new card.

I punch in my new card number. I get an operator. She asks and I answer the ritual questions.

"What seems to be the problem, Mr. Schenkler?" she asks.

"They declined my card," I explained.

"Well, you’re over your credit limit. You have more than $11,000 in outstanding charges."

"No," I insisted. "That was the old card that was discontinued because someone had counterfeited it and charged the $11 thousand plus."

"But Mr. Schenkler," the Citibank operator says, "we have no way of knowing it wasn’t you."

"You have to submit an affidavit which will be sent to you shortly."

"But the security division of Citibank called me to tell me there was fraudulent activity on my card. They knew."

"Before we void the fraudulent charges, we need the affidavit from you.

"Why didn’t you send it with the new credit cards?" I asked.

"We first have to get a printout of outstanding charges. It’ll take about seven days until you get it"

"So we can’t use our new credit cards for at least seven days?" I asked. "Why did you send them to me?"

"We had no way of knowing you were over your credit limit. If you weren’t over the limit, you could use the cards. We can’t ask to increase the limit now because there is a problem with your account."

"Got it. Let me have a supervisor."

I’ll save you the dialogue. The supervisor was very sorry — understood the whole problem but there was nothing she could do. No charging for Lil and me.

Life Without Credit

I just returned from Sunday night dinner — paid cash — they didn’t take Discover.

Citibank acted quickly to deal with the fraud, but they didn’t act so quickly to deal with this customer’s needs. I’ve been a Citibank Gold cardholder for about 12 years and always pay my bills on time. I’ve caused them no grief. They spotted the fraud. Why cut off my charge privileges? Do they really want me to go get another card? Doesn’t sound like good business to me.

But the real question — just a mini-look at the problem — is that the victim of the card theft, who doesn’t have to pay the bill, suffers nonetheless. Just ask Lil — Master Cardless for a week. I’ll probably go to my bank and get a Visa or respond to the next offer that bombards my mailbox. I think Citibank could have been more accommodating. I’ll certainly recover quickly from the experience. But I can imagine when the theft is more involved — identity theft — righting the wrongs, regaining ones credit and surviving the experience of dealing with operators with a list of rules on the other end of the phone could be quite challenging, wearisome and often overwhelming. It’s an experience no one should have to go through.

Click here for the feature story and get yourself a backup credit card.

An Emmy For Playing A Tribbie

Former Tribune Editor Mitch Albom with his teacher and friend Morrie Schwartz. The made for TV movie based on Albom’s book was a big winner at the Emmys. It was quite a trip last night to sit and watch Hank Azzaria accept an Emmy for playing Mitch Albom, author of Tuesdays With Morrie in a made for TV movie by the same name. Jack Lemmon also won an Emmy for playing Morrie. The movie won the Emmy for best Made For TV Movie and received two other Emmy nominations. In accepting, both Azzaria and Lemmon paid tribute to Mitch Albom’s writing. Mitch took his first writing job with me, here at the Tribune in the early ’80s, moving up from reporter to managing editor during his three-year tenure. He went on to a sports writing slot at the Detroit Free Press, one of the nation’s leading dailies. This weekend’s New York Times Best Seller List shows that Mitch’s Tuesdays With Morrie, has regained the number one position which it has held much of the past three years. This true account about the celebration of life as one faces death is in it’s incredible 151st continuous week on the Times list. We take great pride in our successful alums. Mitch is one of many. Congratulations, Mitch!

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Michael Schenkler can be reached at: MSchenkler@QueensTribune.com

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