Online solutions help you to manage your record administration along with raise the efficiency of the workflows. Stick to the fast guide to do 2008 - 2019 DMV SR 1, steer clear of blunders along with furnish it in a timely manner:

How to complete any 2008 - 2019 DMV SR 1 online:

  1. On the site with all the document, click on Begin immediately along with complete for the editor.
  2. Use your indications to submit established track record areas.
  3. Add your own info and speak to data.
  4. Make sure that you enter correct details and numbers throughout suitable areas.
  5. Very carefully confirm the content of the form as well as grammar along with punctuational.
  6. Navigate to Support area when you have questions or perhaps handle our Assistance team.
  7. Place an electronic digital unique in your 2008 - 2019 DMV SR 1 by using Sign Device.
  8. After the form is fully gone, media Completed.
  9. Deliver the particular prepared document by way of electronic mail or facsimile, art print it out or perhaps reduce the gadget.

PDF editor permits you to help make changes to your 2008 - 2019 DMV SR 1 from the internet connected gadget, personalize it based on your requirements, indicator this in electronic format and also disperse differently.

Video instructions and help with filling out and completing reporting accident

Instructions and Help about reporting accident

Running a report is easy QuickBooks has ways to run reports and dozens of places within the program you can run reports from the report Center the reports menu the icon bar the Customer Center and other centers and many more places besides but the report Center and the reports menu are the two places where you can find all the reports that QuickBooks offers then once you run a report chances are you want to modify it in some way a different date range or to show the results for specific customers for example you can run reports from the report Center or from the reports menu on the reports menu point to the category that the report is in such as company and financial then choose the report you want profit and loss standard for example to run reports from the report Center on the reports menu choose report Center no matter which view you use in the report Center the icon for running a report is the same it looks like a piece of paper with text on it the tooltip says display report if you want to set a date range choose it in the drop-down list then click the display report icon and QuickBooks opens a window for the report the toolbar in the report window has a few tools for tweaking a report if the date range still isn't what you want you can choose a new date range in the drop-down list or you can type dates in the from and two boxes for some reports you can adjust the columns that you see for example in the profit loss report you can switch to showing values for each fiscal quarter if I change this report to this fiscal year you'll see columns for each quarter of the year to make more in-depth changes click modify report in the modify report window you can change what you see in the report filter it to show exactly what you want change the information appears in the header and footer or format the text in numbers when the report is the way you want you can memorize it so you can run it again and again in the report window toolbar click memorize type a name for the report that identifies what it does like profit and loss this year click OK to memorize the report after you memorize a report it shows up in the report Center and on the reports menu on the reports menu choose memorized reports if the report is in a group point to that group otherwise it's right on the memorized reports submenu in the report Center click the memorize tab click the group you added the report to but if it isn't in a group click the uncatted Erised group there's one more slick trick for making a report easy to get to while the report window is open on the View menu choose add the report

FAQ

Do I have to fill out a accident report request that was sent to me? There wasn't damage to either of our cars
This depends on which state you live in and also who sent you the report request. It is highly unusual for a citizen to send a crash report to another citizen. If I were you I would not fill it out unless it came from a police agency. Even then I would be suspicious and follow Kathryn's answer below.
I received a call from the dealership a week after returning the loaner car stating that the vehicle had some damage, how do I respond?
There are some good answers here. But mine is for future reference. Next time you get a loaner, do a walk around of the entire vehicle when you pick it up and when you drop it off. This saved me from being blamed for existing damage on a rental car a few days ago. It’s simple to just pull your camera or cell phone out. Covers your a—.I was blamed for damage on a loaner car once. The service advisor failed to have me sign the inspection form verifying everything was fine on the vehicle and that there was no damage. I told this to the service manager and never heard from them again.One time a few years ago, I rented a car and there was damage all on the lower front of the bumper. The associate promised that he noted it in the system. Almost a MONTH after I returned the vehicle, I got an e-mail from Sixt (never again!) that I needed to immediately fill out an accident report so that they could start assessing what I owed them. I replied saying that there was pre-existing damage, that the employee saw it and said he noted it, and that my friend and I would be willing to sign sworn affidavits attesting to such. I refused to fill out any forms. They never emailed or contacted me again.Next time, just record. Way easier.
People who have found a dead body, how did you find them, and did it affect you?
I was woken up at 2:25 AM by pounding on the door, I’ll never forget a single detail about that night…My friend was one of the most outgoing and fun loving people you’d ever meet. We spent a lot of nights singing along to Alice In Chains, his favorite band, drinking beer around a campfire and talking about life in general. He loved everyone deeply and would do anything for anyone. He was a free spirit and lived his life in the moment, but he also had a dark side. He suffered from serious bouts of depression and the troubled relationship he had with his girlfriend seemed to be the main protagonist. He would threaten suicide when he got in those moods, but we were always able to talk him out of it. Honestly, it just seemed like he wanted someone to tell him everything was okay and he wasn’t really serious about it. He called me up and asked me to come hang out with him one night but I made up an excuse and I still regret it because it was the last time I’d ever hear his voice. The following evening, he and his girlfriend got in a big argument so she called a friend to come pick her up and basically told him it was over.I woke up that night to this desperate pounding at the front door and his girlfriend pleading for us to answer the door. She tells us that something isn’t right and he’s not answering his phone and she is scared to go out to his campsite at the lake because he had threatened to kill himself if she didn’t come back. I remember thinking “Hell, he’s probably just passed out drunk or his phone was dead.” I threw on some clothes and a jacket then got in the car and headed out to the lake, my roommate driving 100 mph the whole way. It was a particularly chilly but clear night so it was easy to see that we had got there too late as soon as the headlights shone on his body. There he was, back turned to us, hanging from a low branch with his legs tucked underneath him like he was sitting cross legged and one hand holding onto the thin rope he used to hang himself. I jumped out of the car and ran to him, when I put my hand on his neck to feel for a pulse I recoiled at how cold and lifeless his skin felt. I realized at that point his arms and legs were in rigor and that my friend had been dead for quite some time. I walked around to face him and GOD I wish I never had because that image will never leave me. His neck was stretched from hanging for hours and his face looked like a swollen grotesque mannequin with opaque bulging eyes. I nearly lost it at that point, “this thing in front of me can’t possibly be him it’s NOT real!!!” The rational part of my brain wouldn’t let me accept my mind’s attempt to cope with what I was seeing. Then I realized he could have just stood up, “why didn’t he just stand up and save himself, how could he just hang there like that!?!” “Why didn’t you just call me man, why didn’t I just go see you last night and maybe you wouldn’t be like this?” This repeating internal dialogue and the image of him like that nearly drove me crazy for a long time. We decided to cut him down and cover up his body when we realized that his girlfriend had called the family and they would most likely arrive before the police did. I couldn’t bear the thought of them seeing him that way.Please, take suicidal threats seriously…
A truck for a foundation repair company cracked my windshield on the highway with flying debris. I took a picture of their truck w/ company name and license plate and contacted them, but now they refuse to pay for the damage. What can I do?
My wife and I were driving through a construction zone where they were demolishing a bridge. The trucks were loaded with chunks of concrete. They had the right lane closed for loading the trucks and for them to merge back into traffic. The closed lane was over 1/2 mile long and separated by a concrete barrier. I assume that was for the trucks to get up to speed.I was riding on the passenger side and told my wife to watch out, there was gravel falling out the bottom of the truck. I figured that some gravel was on the running gear of the truck and was falling off. Small stuff. About the time the concrete barrier ended, a rock the size of a softball came shooting out from under the truck and right toward us. It hit directly on the windshield to the far left and glanced off the side. If it had hit dead center, it might have completely taken out the windshield, but it hit closer to the frame. Windshield destroyed. We pulled up and got the truck's license number and name from the side of the truck. I called 911 and they patched me through to the Ohio Highway Patrol. I reported the information and that was it.Later that day a Trooper calls and says they went to the landfill where they trucks were dumping and examined the truck and it had a broken place in the floor of its dump bed. (can’t imagine the DOT fine for that) The Trooper said it was a pretty big hole and was glad that I called it in. Said that the truck had to have been spreading debris all over the highway for a while.I called the trucking company and they knew about the incident. They sounded like they didn’t want to talk to me. I told them I didn’t want anything except for a new windshield. They weren’t easy to deal with and made me buy the windshield and they reimbursed me for it. I thought they should have paid the glass shop directly.
What are some interesting facts or anecdotes related to Psychology?
If you planning to get into and accident and want people around you to help you out, make sure there are fewer people around.Bystander effect  Bystander effects refers to the phenomenon in which the greater the number of people present, the less likely people are to help a person in distress. When an emergency situation occurs, observers are more likely to take action if there are few or no other witnesses.In a series of  studies, researchers Bibb Latane and John Darley found that the amount of time it takes the participant to take action and seek help varies depending on how many other observers are in the room. In one experiment, subjects were placed in one of three treatment conditions: alone in a room, with two other participants or with two confederates who pretended to be normal participants.As the participants sat filling out questionnaires, smoke began to fill the room. When participants were alone, 75% reported the smoke to the experimenters. In contrast, just 38% of participants in a room with two other people reported the smoke. In the final group, the two confederates in the experiment noted the smoke and then ignored it, which resulted in only 10% of the participants reporting the smoke.Explanation for bystander effect:The major factors that contribute to the bystander effect are :- The presence of other people creates a diffusion of responsibility. Because there are other observers, individuals do not feel as much pressure to take action, since the responsibility to take action is thought to be shared among all of those present.- The second reason is the need to behave in correct and socially acceptable ways. When other observers fail to react, individuals often take this as a signal that a response is not needed or not appropriate.References:Darley, J. M. & Latané, B. (1969). Bystander “apathy.” American Scientist, 57, 244-268.
While sitting parked in your car, a car next to you opens their door carelessly, hitting your car. What do you do?
Mine is a rather sad story. Quick, simple, and stupid, but the results were severe, maybe too severe.I had this happen while I was sitting in my brand new 2004 Toyota Prius. I had the car less than a month and was in our building’s parking structure. The parking structure was the ramp type, so all of the spaces were on a slope except for the ends. I was parked in a spot designated for compact cars and I had backed into the space.* I was showing the features of my new car to a co-worker that was interested in the hybrid-electric technology. The car was on, but the engine was not running. The guy parked next to me was driving a full-sized Suburban (definitely not a compact car) and had wedged it into the compact space next to me, nose-in (so we were driver’s door to driver’s door). When he walked up, he just flipped the door handle and let the door swing out and bounce against my door. I rolled down the window and said “Jesus man, have some respect, will ya?” The guy whipped around, obviously unaware that I was in the car when he walked up. He said nothing and just got into his vehicle and fired it up. I tried to get out of my vehicle to look at the damage, but he started backing out, so I had to close my door so he wouldn’t hit me. He hit my side mirror on the way out gouging a chunk of plastic out of the housing. As soon as he cleared, I jumped out of the vehicle and he was getting ready to drive away, so I screamed “I have your licence plate and a witness a$$hole!”. I didn’t have the plate number, but I was ready to chase him down the ramp to get it and my co-worker got out of the vehicle. The guy rolled down his window and proceeded to ask me why I was just sitting in my car like some psychopath. I asked him why he was some self-entitled prick that thought it was OK to beat up other people’s cars like a douche bag. He let out a string of profanities and roared down the parking ramp. I got back into my car with my co-worker and we followed him down the ramp at a more than safe speed, when we got to the exit he went through the monthly pass line and I had to go through the attendant line and show my company ID to get out. He got away, but we got his plate number.When I got to the front of the attendant line, the parking manager was in the booth with the regular parking girl. He asked me to exit and come back into the structure to discuss my travel down the ramp. Crap. So, I came around and re-entered the garage to talk to the parking manager. He wanted to know why I was coming down the ramp like my arse was on fire, he had me on video and he intended on reporting me to my company. I and my co-worker explained what had happened with the guy in the Suburban. The egress of the guy in the Suburban wasn’t lost on the manager either. Since there were two different incidents (the door and hitting the mirror), he had me fill out two different incident forms. He told me that the door ding was one thing, but hitting the mirror and leaving could be turned over to the police for hit and run, but since the manager could identify the guy because he has a monthly pass, he was going to refer it to the owner of the pass to talk about paying for damages. That said, my speeding was not excused and he was going to turn me into my company. I thought that was a bit unfair, but agreed and went on my way.The next day at work I was called down to HR expecting to get an earful about the speeding. It turned out that pass and the vehicle belonged to my company. They asked me to fill out another incident report regarding what they were calling an “Employee Altercation Incident”. I was interviewed for about an hour and felt like I was being interrogated, especially about which way the vehicles were pulled in, who got there first, and who hit whom. I was later asked to sign a summary statement of the incident. I talked to the co-worker that was in my car and he had gotten the very same treatment. The driver was an engineering VP in our company and had provided a much different accounting of the events, basically saying that I was the one that hit and ran, but his story didn’t add up. Not because I had a witness, but because they had the video from the parking structure showing that he exited down the ramp first.The final result? The company paid for all of the damages on my car, but I still got written up for a safety incident because I gave chase to the VP down the parking ramp. The VP did not fare so well. He was demoted to a Manager, loss of pay, and received other censures. I asked my HR Director what the whole deal was as it seemed extreme to me. I thought the guy was a class-A prick, but this was a career-crippling result. She couldn’t elaborate on the specifics, but she said that hitting my door was a passable mistake, not backing in with a company vehicle was a low-level company safety incident, leaving the scene of an accident was high-level safety incident, but his largest mistake was when lied about the incident. That action was an Ethics and Integrity violation and an intolerable violation for any employee, much less a corporate officer. She said he was very lucky to have kept a job at all.I saw the guy around the office a few times, but he never said a word to me. Frankly, I felt a bit sorry for him. He left the company within a year as he was never going to be moving up in ours.Thinking back to this incident doesn’t bring up feelings of anger, but just sadness. Such a stupid thing created so much damage.* Backing into spaces became a habit for me while working for the company as it was a safety requirement when driving a company vehicle. Some think tank somewhere had proven that most accidents happened while backing out of parking spaces, so our company made it mandatory. It is a practice I use to this day with my personal vehicles and I even back into my garage.
Have you ever killed another human being?
Yes. I'm an Indian and this happened back in 2013 when I visited Muzaffarnagar ( A city in Uttar Pradesh) for a friend's sister's wedding.It was the night of reception, and celebrations were at it's peak. Almost people from 3 villages were attending the wedding and there was plenty of noise. Me, my friend ( bride's brother) and his friends were having alcohol, and like bachelor's enjoying in full swing. The villages in Uttar Pradesh are really sick. There's no electricity at all so there was this generator van which the bride's family had ordered for the wedding, which was responsible for half of the noise pollution in the event. DJ and music was the other half. So in these villages there's this thing called Tubewell where you can bath and swim ( they're big enough to fit 5–6 people) and since it was a hot summer night of June, we were bathing and drinking at the same time. This tubewell was located behind the wedding area from where the sugarcane fields started. So we were hardly visible and there was no light in the fields as well.It happened that I wanted to pee. So I got out of the tubewell and walked to the field to pee. Since 2 pegs of whiskey had already gone down my throat, I was a bit dizzy.While peeing , suddenly, I heard a noise 50 feet away of a scream and some movement in the bushes. I got conscious and skeptical. I stepped forward to see but my friend who were not more than 20ft away called me back. I told them that there was some movement in the field, my friends insisted that it would be some wild animal (since it's a common sight). But I insisted that what I heard was some child scream and we should go and check.My friends who were not in the mood of leaving their pegs tried to shoo me off but ultimately we decided that for once we should go and check.So me, along with my friend and his 2 friends started walking toward the fields with a thick bamboo stick which was in my hand and my friends.It was immensely dark, but as we kept moving, our retinas slowly started gaining vision and what we saw next shook us to the core of our souls.We saw a young girl ( aged 6–7 ) lying completely naked and unconscious on the field and we saw 2 dark figures running towards the other end of the field. We knew what had happened so we ran towards them and ultimately got hold of them after a short chase. One was a 25 yo something man and one was a 35 yo man dressed in a cop uniform.Both of them fell to our feet and started pleading for mercy. They started saying things like:Are Bhaiyya maaf kardo galti hogayi ( please forgive us we made a mistake)Humko thoda mann kar gaya ( we became a bit horny )Hum ko laga koi badi ladki hogi ( we thought she was a big girl )For the first time in my life had I seen an cop getting on his knees and pleading for mercy. My friends were discussing what to do with these two rapists.I looked at the little girls face. I felt like crying. She was so tiny and innocent looking. She was not even big to understand to what had happened with her. I was in a rage. And at the highest I had ever been in my life. I looked at the cop's face and started thinking what would happen now. Being that particular part of the country where law doesn't almost exist, will the girl ever get justice? Or even if she would, after how many years? Not before 10 years. The cop would definitely get bailed out. As corruption is in the DNA of the indian Judiciary systems. What would the cop do after getting bail? Harass the poor girls family? Or maybe even get them killed? Rape more children?All these thoughts started bombarding in my mind. And I don't know what got into me , I slammed the cop's head with the stick in my hand. No I did not stop there. I kept on slamming till I could see blood flowing around his head. He died on the spot. My friends went crazy - they snatched the stick from my hand and started shouting at me that I had killed a cop. The other rapist literally shitted in his pants as we could smell it. My friend ( bride's brother) told them ( his friends) to take care of the event and took me to his car. He drove me to the bus stand and boarded me in a bus going to Dehradun ( that's where I'm from ) which was a 3 hour journey. He told me to keep my mobile phone switched off till the time I don't reach my destination and contact me only after reaching Dehardun.The very next day I called him morning 10 am to ask what was the situation and what happened after I left. He said that they had to kill the other rapist as he was a witness and that they erased the evidences. Next day the villagers called the cops who took the bodies and the little girl to the hospital. They took her statement about what she saw and what happened. She told them that she was raped by both of them and she fell unconscious and doesn't know how they died.Few days later I read in a local news article how a cop lost his life trying to save a minor girl from being raped in the mids of night in Muzaffarnagar. Hence he died a hero.Call me a murderer but to date, I do not regret what I did. I did what a father or brother would do in such a situation.EDIT 1: The cop’s death would definitely spark outrage, but since the little girl was raped by him only it would spark more outrage. The investigation office couldn't do anything even if he wanted. It would backfire the police department. So they closed the case.
How did you deal with the untimely death of a younger sibling?
This was the image on the front page of the newspaper that morning.My 12 year old sister died on January 14, 2015, as did my mother. My mom had been driving my younger siblings to school through a thick, swimming, cold fog.She missed a stop sign due to low visibility. A Walmart diesel was mounting speed on the cross street going through the intersection.My other sister, Kalli, who was 17 at the time and in the passenger seat with headphones in her ears, told me that she saw the trailer of the truck rushing up to meet her face, and then she was on the ground and there were strangers all around her, alarmed voices, feet pounding the dirt. Nothing made sense in the chaos, and she was fading in and out of consciousness, so that there were large blank spots in her memory punctuated by snapshots of confusion and panic and this sense that something was terribly wrong with the world. She woke up at the hospital in a neck brace. She tried to wet her lips with her tongue and asked in a weak voice, “What happened?”My sister - Jenna. She was in the 8th grade. For a few weeks prior to her death, she had been bugging me to teach her how to curl her hair. I kept putting her off. Little things like that bother me still.Her father - my stepfather - had died of a heart attack two years earlier, in 2013. She was 11 then. She had tried so hard to grasp the concept of forever, of the permanence of death, and when she finally had an idea of the nothingness of time as it tumbles and spills ever onward, she was unable to sleep alone for the next two years of her life - the final two years of her life.She told me once, “I talk to my dad sometimes. People at school tell me he's with me always, so I talk to him just like before. I tell him that I love him and I listen as hard as I can to hear him say he loves me too, but he doesn't answer me, and I can't hear anything but silence.”When the diesel struck my mother's car, she, my mother, was crushed instantly. The accident report, which contains the autopsy report, says that her internal organs ruptured. After I read that, this odd feeling came over me that I can't describe, unlike grief or shock or any pain I'd ever experienced, this odd eery feeling, like you're being watched by something too huge to see. This feeling did not depart for days afterward.I'm looking up across my bedroom to think as I write this, and my eyes keep falling on my mom’s guitar, which I've seen across her lap thousands of times, her fingers moving gracefully over the strings while she hummed softly. A million times I have searched for the link between my mother as she was alive, strumming the guitar, and my mother at the moment of her death, her body broken and ripped apart by grating metal and broken glass. I still have not found the link. I cannot. I have not even come close.Jenna almost lived. At least that's what the accident report suggests. She survived the impact, but smashed her skull into the window, which immediately blinded her in one eye. Her brain hemorrhaged. Her body went into shock, unable to cope with the gruesome physical pain that had seized it, and for over 20 minutes she suffered convulsions in the backseat of the car. But she was alive. She was alive. She was alive.She is not alive now. She did not make it out of the backseat of that car with a heart that still pumped, lungs that still drew breath, or a mind that still held any awareness that she had left us behind. The only thing still moving in her was her blood as it flowed from her cuts and matted into her bright hair. I've often tortured myself wondering if, during her convulsions, she was somehow aware that her mother was beside her and she could not reach her. Did she know where she was? Did she know herself? Did she know she was dying?At the hospital, the police officer gave my little brother his school bag back, the one he'd been holding in his lap moments before he was wedged under our dead mother until paramedics tore him free of the car by hauling him screaming through the back windshield, his face torn from forehead to chin in a deep gash down the left side. Luckily his eye was spared, though the teasing from other kids at school about the scar he carries down his face caused him to quit public school about a year after the accident.Anyway, he reached inside of the school bag the officer handed him, expecting to find some of his belongings, ancient relics of a time that existed before that morning, a lifetime ago. But when he lifted his hand out of the bag, we were horrified to find blood squishing through his fingers. Whose blood, we did not know for sure. My older sister, who later was to take custody of him, leaned forward and vomited into her hands.To answer your question, you don't get over it. You deal with it. You sit dry eyed (at least I did) in the office of a funeral director. You make arrangements in a steady, controlled voice, because it's the decent thing to do. You watch people light candles and you accept flowers and cards as they are handed to you with a thank you and a crooked smile. You make sure everyone is eating. You take out the trash. You submit to being hugged, drowned in people’s perfumes. You look for ways to restore convenience and normalcy. You fill the hours. There are so many hours to fill.I suppose that one can learn to accept pretty much anything. Shock gradually settles into something resembling acceptance. All of the family from out of state who came in rental cars and spent hours flipping through family photo albums with you, laughing and crying by turns, have long since gone home, the rental cars returned to where they came from and used over and over by other people for reasons having nothing to do with you or anyone you know. But you - you are still here, and there is this abstract emptiness here with you that you must share your life with. It becomes normal to you, as I'm sure you've discovered by now.The funeral home had a wake for my mother and sister. I cannot to this day imagine what would've possessed them to do such a thing. I did not go. I did not want to see them.My older sister went. She figured that if the funeral service people were saying they were okay to be viewed, then maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe it would help with the images of them that her imagination had placed in her mind, replace them, push them away, out of reach or existence.The evening after the wake was over, I went to my sister's house to help pick out some photographs to show on a DVD at the funeral.She was crying when I arrived, and when I spoke aloud to ask her what was wrong (although I already knew), she collapsed forward onto the table and sobbed brokenly, shaking her head, repeating parrot-like, “I shouldn't have gone, they shouldn't have shown them that way! I shouldn't have gone, I shouldn't have gone, I shouldn't have seen them like that!”After a while the sobbing eased into those odd gasps people always get after crying really hard, and she told me even though I had not asked that they were laying side by side, already starting to decay. Their hair was wiry, their skin stretched like paper over their bones.“Remember how Jenna had chubby, dimpled baby hands?” she asked, sniffling, and I nodded dumbly, not wanting to hear the rest but unable to stop her from speaking. “Her fingers, they were so thin. Skeletal. The ends of her fingers were boney. Her fingertips were - pointed.” She pressed her hand over her mouth and tears rolled out of her closed eyes. I looked at some flower petals that, having fallen from the vases and vases of flowers that occupied the table, were strewn across the table's surface, and I held my breath for a moment, struggling to force the sadness back in. A tear splashed into the back of my hand, followed by another, and something went out of me - perhaps, at that moment, any belief I still held from childhood that there is a God in Heaven watching down on this world and giving it any kind of purpose.The strangest thing I've realized is that, nearly two years later, the grief comes in bursts. I'll be driving to Office Max for envelopes or tying my shoes or washing a sink full of soapy dishes, and suddenly their absences will strike me to my core, down to the center of my bones. Finally when I regain my sense of here and now, I’ll whisper to my mother and my sister, “I love you,” speaking to them out loud just like before, and I listen as hard as I can for them to say that they love me too, but they do not answer me, because they are not here, they are not watching over me. They do not remember who I am to them, and they do not know my name. I can't hear anything, but silence.