Amanda Ogle became an unexpected Seattle celebrity thanks to a feature film based on her real story. The movie "Tow," which is released next week, recounts the time Ogle, while homeless, lived in her car and waged an exhausting battle with a towing company. The lead is played by Oscar nominee Rose Byrne. But Ogle herself, now 57, admits she feels enormous pressure from filmmakers portraying her as someone who "had it all together," when in reality that wasn't the case.
It all began in 2018, when Amanda Ogle's car, an old 1991 Toyota Camry that was not just her transportation but her home, was stolen in North Seattle. Later the car was towed from a parking lot at Sea-Tac. For Ogle, who had only about $27, the $427 tow bill became an existential crisis. She had to move into a women's night shelter, but she didn't give up and decided to challenge the towing company in court.
With no resources, Ogle used the fax center at the Fred Meyer store as an improvised office to file paperwork. The large hypermarket chain, owned by Kroger, serves for many Seattle residents as a multifunctional hub where not only everyday but also administrative needs are handled. She won the appeal: a judge ruled that as a crime victim and a person in dire need, she had the right to get her car back. "Everyone thought that because I was homeless, I'd just give up and say, 'Screw it,'" Ogle recalls.
But the court victory turned into a bureaucratic nightmare. Due to paperwork mistakes made by Dick's Towing and its partner Lincoln Towing, both firms were able to claim they were unaware of the court proceedings. During that time Ogle's car was sold for just $175. It was absurd: she won the case but lost the vehicle. Later Lincoln Towing returned the car but refused to give it back to Ogle unless she signed a waiver of all claims.
The story became a vivid example of how unbearably expensive it is to be poor. As the original article notes, nearly 40% of Americans don't have $400 for an emergency — an amount close to the original tow bill. Ogle faced a multilayered corporate and legal bureaucracy over what for most would have been an annoying inconvenience. "It's a system designed to break people," she observed.
With help from attorneys at the nonprofit Northwest Consumer Law Center, Ogle continued the fight. The organization specializes in consumer protection in Washington state, helping low-income people contest predatory debt claims and service violations. "They held a homeless woman's car hostage for a year," says her lawyer Kevin Eggers. After months of legal battles and going through alcohol-recovery treatment during the case, Ogle won a second court ruling and finally got her Toyota back. The bill, which originally ballooned to an astonishing $21,634, still sits on The Seattle Times website as a monument to that injustice. The city's largest and most influential daily often runs such stories, acting as an advocate for the community and drawing attention to systemic problems.
Today Amanda Ogle is no longer homeless. She lives in a subsidized apartment in Seattle and has been sober since 2018. Still, old back injuries and depression persist. Her situation is typical in a city with one of the highest homelessness rates in the U.S., where rapid housing-price increases and a shortage of affordable units push many to the brink of financial collapse. Even with federal subsidy programs, people often remain vulnerable. "Depression wraps around me," she says. "It's uncomfortable because the movie shows me as someone who did something brave. But when I wake up in the morning, I don't feel brave." The money she received for the rights to her story did not change her financial standing: "I'm still poor."
She still keeps her old 1991 Camry. The car is no longer running, and blackberry bushes have even grown into its trunk. For Ogle it is now a symbol of resilience, "a sign of survival."
Based on: A towing outrage made Amanda Ogle a Seattle celebrity. Here’s the twist