What started as a routine workday spiraled into a nightmare of negligence, conflicting accounts, and institutional indifference that would haunt our family long after his agonizing eight-month battle for survival.
Thursday, May 11th 2023 approx. 6 AM EST, I missed a call from Joe (Joseph Braum), my father’s Employer/Dispatch and the owner of the truck my father Ioan Suiugan was driving. I texted him around 6:30 am when i saw the missed call: ” Good morning, just saw your missed call. Everything ok?” He responded: ” Can you call me? ” I texted him back: ” My kids are still sleeping. Let me get out” He responded: ” Please, important “. I called him immediately. He started by saying, sorry, your dad had an accident at delivery. He was told by the Tonawanda Plant safety personnel that he was hit by a strap; He also said that he was unconscious and was taken by the ambulance to the closest hospital. He wasn’t sure about the name of the hospital. At this point, i was in tears, shocked, but i knew how strong he was, so i thought it’s not that serious. I hung up and started researching the closest hospital to that plant. I found Kenmore Hospital and called them. I was put on a brief hold until a male doctor picked up. He informed me that he was the one treating my father. He had a grim voice and said: I’m sorry about your dad, he had a massive heart attack and he has little chance to wake up. I was shocked, in disbelief. I told him that his dispatch said he was hit by a strap. The doctor did not know about that. He only said that he was found unconscious by bystanders and they didn’t know for how long he was down without a pulse. I was confused, but scared that I wont be able to see him alive, i hung up and called my brother right away so we can go to Buffalo, New York about 5 and a half hours away. He already knew from our cousin Raul. He was just finishing his night shift and he said he was heading towards me. That way we could drive together.
We left around 8 am to go be by our father’s side. he was being kept alive by the machines. On our way to the hospital, GM representatives kept calling me, insisting they needed to find the truck keys because it was blocking the docks and slowing down their workflow, but we didn’t know where the keys were yet.
While driving there, my dad was transferred to a bigger hospital for better treatment, in ICU at Buffalo Mercy Hospital. We arrived around 2:30 PM at the hospital. He was unresponsive, barely alive with tubes down his throat, bandages around his head, and a scraped knee.
Shortly after, we were called in a separate room. 3 ladies, 2 Medical Representative from GM Tonawanda, but one of them, looking really sad, almost crying, left the room shortly after we sat down; and the third person in that room was a RN from Buffalo Mercy. During our conversation, Voichita Boboc (Aunt) was on the phone with us because she owns a nursing home and has medical expertise. She was also very concerned since she was Ioan Suiugan’s sister. While the GM rep. explained what they knew happened, it didn’t make sense to us or my aunt. The GM representative kept saying they believe that he was without a heartbeat for over an hour and he has very low chances of waking up. She said it is our choice for how long we want him hooked to the machines, but he has no chance of waking up. I thought it was odd to give such a statement so fast, without waiting a few hours or days to see if there would be any improvement. He was not brain dead, and he still had a faint heartbeat.
We said we should wait a few days until the rest of the family could come to Buffalo NY to see him. Also, I wanted to see if by a miracle he would wake up. We insisted to both doctors that we want a CT scan done because we see bandages around his head, and Ioan Suiugan’s employer told us that he was hit in the head with a strap. They advised us that he cannot be moved due to his critical condition. The doctor told us they’ll give us some time with our father, but to decide after if we keep him alive or not.
After approx. 1 hour, we both decided not to unplug him; we couldn’t do it. We left the hospital shortly after to look for a hotel. We were scheduled to meet GM officials the next day to receive an official rapport with the events from that morning and to recover the truck because we found the keys in the hospital, in our father’s pocket, and since my brother has a chauffeur license, he could drive it back to Michigan to Joe, the truck owner and dispatcher.
I texted Joe the next morning before going to GM plant to retrieve the truck: “Good morning, we are about to go to GM plant to get more details on what happened yesterday. Do you want my brother to pick up the truck. He has the chauffeur license” He responded: “Good morning. Did you get some sleep? Not sure if the GM plant will give you any details but you can try. That would be great if you grab the truck if it’s even there, they haven’t told me anything, I have no clue where my trucks are right now. Any word on your dad?” I said: “Yes, I got some rest. We are about to go back to the hospital. Tried to call them but no answer. I assume nothing changed. They have my number. ” Joe replied: “Well, that’s good. Please let me know if there’s any change the status when you get there, thank you. I’m trying to get a report from GM right now on what happened and where the trucks at, cross your fingers.”
On May 12th, 10:20 AM, me and my brother arrived at GM Tonawanda Engine. After we checked in with the security guard (Who mentioned that the entire plant is talking about what happened to our father), we were told to wait; He will let them know we arrived and someone will be with us shortly to give us more info. We tried to ask the security guard what he knows, but he mentioned that he is not allowed to talk about it.
About 10-20 minutes later, Pamela Bayers (Ryder Representative) comes out from behind the door to inform us that they didn’t expect us to arrive so early and they are still working “getting their story together” pin the back but shouldn’t take much longer. I was thinking, what story? I thought they had the report written. I brushed off the thought, thinking that maybe they are talking to more witnesses. We waited in the lobby for 20 – 30 min. While we were waiting, Pam waited with us in the lobby. We asked her what she knew about the incident.. She said that all she knows is that our father was found by someone, somewhere in the plant without a heartbeat, and they are not sure for how long he was laying like that. The story that Pamela told us didn’t make much sense because it was cold that morning (48°F), and our father knew he’s not allowed to wander around in a plant at night by himself, he did deliver many other shipments before the delivery from 5/11/2023. He never liked to walk around, he would rather just sit on his phone and smoke cigarettes.
She kept avoiding other questions related to the incident by saying that we will have the rapport soon; she even changed the subject and told us how she lost her son to Covid. Shortly after, a younger lady that presented herself as the Head of GM Tonawanda Safety comes out from the same door Pamela came from, with a security guard, informing us that they will take us to recover the truck. We took the security car to the truck, and on our way there, they instructed us that after we recover the truck, we have to strictly follow them back to the office to give us the rapport because of the plant safety and regulations. The head of security, just like Pam, also tried to avoid answering our questions about what happened that night, telling us about the plant history and how that particular plant helped with the world war building for the army which was odd to us because we kept asking about what happened to our father but she kept avoiding answering, mentioning every-time that everything is in writing and waiting for us when we come back. The safety manager seemed slightly annoyed of being questioned but also briefly mentioned the same story Pamela Bayers told us.. ”Someone found him, but we don’t know for how long he was laying somewhere in the plant without a heartbeat” My brother. asked who found him and where, but she avoided answering by mentioning the rapport again.
Once we arrived at the truck, when I checked the truck, I found the bag with his food I packed for him a night before and his vitamins. The truck was not blocking the docks at all. It was backed up on the side of the building about 200 feet away from the docks. The safety guy told me that he got there too early and he was told by the employees to go back to his truck and wait for his turn to unload. That’s why his truck was not parked by the docks. The truck our father drove does not unload at docks because, it’s too small and it’s unloaded by a forklift outside the dock, sometimes they put them in a ramp.
My brother got in the truck, and we were preparing to leave when I noticed a guy desperately waving his hands and running towards our truck. My brother rolled my window down and he came closer: Are you that guy’s kids? I am so sorry for what happened. I was here and I saw him falling from the back of his truck. He got up again and felt backwards again hitting his head on the pavement. I rushed to him and then the medical team came too” While he was talking, the safety guy from the car in front of us that we were supposed to follow, came out and pulled him aside. Mr Hoffman, that was the witnesses name, we found out his name because the security guard called his name, seemed that he knew him. Mr Hoffman, yelled that he has the right to talk, that he is an American citizen and has the right to freedom of speech. The safety manager told him that he cannot talk to us because its a liability, she mentioned, think about your family and your future, then threatened him with defamation lawsuit in front of us. Mr Hoffman was dragged away from us by his arm by the security guard, and told him something we couldn’t hear. Right after the security intervention, Mr. Hoffman put his head down and started walking away. His last words were: I’m really sorry guys, I wanted to tell you what happened to your father, but I’m not allowed” and then walked to his truck, parked not far away but not at the docks, where he was running from towards us. Seemed like he was waiting for us to arrive at our father’s truck, to tell us what he saw that morning.
When we asked to see the video footage, pointing towards the cameras from the building, the G.M. safety manager, frustrated, ripped a piece of paper from her notebook with the address from the police station written on it, telling us, “We are in contact with the police, they have more information and the video footage. They were here!” We took the piece of paper from her, relieved that the police has the video footage and we’ll find out the truth. Angrily, the Safety Manager told us to follow the security car and to leave now.
On our way out, we still expected to be taken back to the front office to receive the official rapport promised, but they guided us to the exit and told us again to leave and go to the police station. I was following my dad’s truck driven by my brother to Town of Tonawanda Police Dept. on 1835 Sheridan Dr, Buffalo, NY 14223.
Once we arrived at the police station, we were told to wait, but shortly after, a desk officer called us at the window. We told him who we were and why we were there. The officer looked confused; he told us that he heard something about it but they did not investigate nor interrogate any witnesses, and they didn’t take the video recordings from the plant because it was a medical emergency and they don’t write reports.
I was shocked and suddenly heard my brother yell ”My father is in the hospital, fighting for his life, and you didn’t do your job to investigate what happened!? You just went to the plant and then came back without doing anything?” I told them that the safety manager at the plant sent us to the police to retrieve the report.
Seeing how upset and angry we both were, the desk officer informed us to wait because he was going to talk to his supervisor. He comes back 5 minutes later and tells us that they didn’t write a rapport nor investigate what happened because it didn’t seem necessary. The desk officer acted clueless and strange when we asked for the rapport, video footage or to go investigate the witnesses. We left the police station, and I immediately called my husband Ibrahim Abdic, who is a Detroit police officer, to ask for his opinion. Here is his response: “Tell police you need report number as they don’t want to tell you what happened, they said they working on it with police and they will let you know but they did not even call police. Family is only usually in this situation reporting party. They are trying to hide something as the situation with Mr. Hoffman (the witness) clearly indicates that something had happened to cause his heart attack. And why would a Doctor say the best as soon as possible to pull the plug. His name u need and now it depends how he said it. Make sure to say to a attorney exactly how the doctor said it verbatim Tell the Mr Hoffman situation with you and security. Police suppose to give you report number starting with the year, today’s date and last 4 numbers is basically how many cases they had that day. EXAMPLE- 23-0511-0189 When they give you report number they supposed to tell you about your rights statements and who and what number you can call to follow up with. And make sure don’t sign nothing in hospital”
This was the beginning of Over eight excruciating months, when our father became a pawn in a broken healthcare system. Kenmore Mercy’s rushed misdiagnoses cascaded into catastrophic delays at Mercy Hospital of Buffalo, where staff prioritized paperwork over human dignity. Transfers between facilities while in critical condition left him vulnerable to infections and neglect. A UTI contracted at Trinity Hospital, the ghastly cycle of PEG tube insertions, the soul-crushing day Beaumont Hospital suggested starving him “to let nature take its course.” Each “discharge” felt like another institution washing its hands of a broken man.
Bringing Him Home
By June, the hospital refused to pay for an ambulance or helicopter to transfer our father to Michigan. We couldn’t afford the $25,000 cost ourselves. The doctor made me sign a paper stating that I was responsible for moving him “against medical advice.” He warned, “He’s paralyzed, confused, and could die during the trip.” I signed it with shaking hands. We had no choice.
The nurses removed all his tubes and wires, leaving him in just a hospital gown and mittens—thick fabric restraints to stop him from hitting people because his brain damage made him agitated. His legs hung limp as we tried to lift him into my Honda CR-V. My father screamed and thrashed, his mitten-ed hands slapping weakly at my arms. He didn’t recognize us. The nurses stood by the doors, watching silently. They weren’t allowed to help anymore, not after we signed the discharge paper.
My aunt and I struggled for nearly 30 minutes in the parking lot, sweating in the summer heat, trying to fold his paralyzed body into the front seat. His dead-weight legs kept sliding off the seat. Strangers stared but kept walking. Finally, we propped him up with blankets and sped onto the highway. For five hours, I sat crammed next to him, wiping drool from his chin as he moaned and yelled nonsense. The mittens made him angrier, he couldn’t even scratch his face. My aunt drove in silence, her face streaked with tears. Every bump made him scream. I kept checking his pulse, terrified he’d die in that car, terrified we’d made a terrible mistake.
When we crossed into Michigan, I sobbed, not from relief, but from guilt. This wasn’t a rescue. It was a surrender. The hospitals, the plant, the insurance companies, they all let us down. We were just two exhausted lady’s in a Honda, hauling a broken man home to die, because no one else cared enough to help.
June 21 – July 26, 2023 Multiple hospitalizations at Trinity Hospital (Livonia) for complications, including a feeding tube insertion, accidental removal, and UTI contracted during care.
August 1 – September 6, 2023 Extended stays at Beaumont Hospital, where doctors recommended palliative care. We resisted, clinging to hope.
September 14, 2023 Transferred to hospice at my aunt’s group home. There, he received compassionate care, regular nursing visits, and was surrounded by loved ones. Remarkably, his final months brought moments of peace—he smiled more, seemed calmer, and found comfort in family.
Final Days and Passing
January 27, 2024, at 5:15 AM, our father passed away peacefully with his family beside him. Though his four-month decline was marked by immense challenges, brain injury from oxygen deprivation, infections, and futile medical interventions. His final weeks were filled with love, dignity, and the warmth of those who cherished him.
We started looking for lawyers and started calling multiple law firms on 5/13/2023, but no one dared to take on GM’s ”army of lawyers” and refused us. Other law firms scared us that if we lose the case, GM will come after us for defamation and we can get in serious trouble.
After many failed attempts to find a lawyer, my brother found Morgan & Morgan, a famous law firm based in NY that finally took our case on 6/25/2024. Meghan Hennesey was our lawyer. We didn’t have the accident report from G.M. when we signed with Morgan and Morgan, but our lawyer could’ve easily request the rapport from G.M, since they represented us.
Morgan & Morgan dropped the case without a clear reason and without talking to us on the phone, on 8/9/2024 sending us an email wishing us luck finding other lawyers.
Joe (Joseph Braum) 734-351-9554 our father’s employer, all this time was not cooperative and ignoring our requests just like G.M. He doesn’t want to admit what G.M told him over the phone about our father being hit in the head while unloading at the delivery. I tried to contact him multiple times in order to file a claim with the insurance but he kept avoiding the subject. Initially Joe mentioned that he will try to get the accident rapport from G.M and also that he will look into the insurance, but he never got back to me with any information and completely stopped texting back after Jan 29th 2023.
On 5/14/2023 I texted Joe
” Hi, so my aunt is there with my dad, and she is looking for a way to transfer him somewhere closer. That would cost a lot of money. She was asking if you have workers comp, or if you can file for workers comp. She said that maybe they would pay if the hospital in Michigan accepts him” He responded ” Hey… Happy Mother’s Day! Not sure on that as we all are 1099 and subcontractors. Will have to check with my safety / recruiting division tomorrow. “
5/16/2023 I texted Joe in the morning: “Hi, good morning, did you find out anything about worker’s compensation? Also, my brother parked the truck by my house. He was in a rush to get back to Buffalo. I’ll be at home later, if you wanna come and pick it up. ” His response: “Good morning. I emailed our daggers division, they are looking into it. I hate some personal issues that I had to deal with today so I am working from home today, will be back in the office tomorrow. So, I won’t be able to grab the truck until sometime tomorrow if that is okay. Also, any other news on your father? ”
My last message to Joe was on 1/24/2025 to provide the insurance information to which Joe, didn’t answer anymore.
His Suffering
For eight months, we watched our father disintegrate. Paralyzed from the waist down, he lived in diapers, a catheter draining his urine, a feeding tube jammed into his stomach. He forgot how to eat, forgot the taste of food. The hospitals tied him to beds with mittens because his brain injury made him panic—he’d yank at the tubes, screaming, not understanding where he was.
Abandoned by the System
Hospitals kicked him out repeatedly. Only our aunt and cousins took him in, sheltering him in their nursing home when no one else would. We spent hours trying to make him remember us “his kids” but his brain, damaged from the head trauma (not a heart attack, like GM claimed), couldn’t process anything. He babbled in three languages, including Hungarian we couldn’t understand. At Trinity Hospital in Livonia, he caught a drug-resistant UTI. Instead of treating it, they rushed to discharge him. Beaumont Hospital in Farmington Hills pumped him full of sedatives. “We don’t know what else to do,” they said, even though he’d started improving. When he grew “difficult,” a Beaumont doctor coldly told us, “Put him in hospice. Let him die sedated.” I asked if he’d do that to his own father. He said no.
The Fight for Truth
Lawyers refused to challenge G.M. One warned us, “They’re too powerful and dangerous.” Even Morgan & Morgan abandoned us. We live in fear of retaliation for exposing them but we demand justice for the lies.. G.M. hid that he fell twice, hitting his head, until we saw a censored report on 11/18/2023. Only Mr. Hoffman, the TQA driver, had the decency to tell us the truth.
I’ve spent sleepless nights compiling every medical document, and the EMS report. It is contradicting the GM’s Plant Report, hospital records showing delayed interventions and wrong procedures for head trauma, because they were treating him for heart attack. Witness statements are censored by the plant and no statement taken by the police present in the plant with the ambulance. The paper trail paints a damning truth: a worker discarded, a truth suppressed, a family forced to battle both grief and a system designed to protect profits over people. They let him rot, hoping he’d never remember how GM failed him.
We feel betrayed as Immigrants.. we came to America for safety. Our father, Ioan Suiugan, kept us in school (O.C.C. in Farmington Hills) while fighting for our Green Cards, a 10 year battle. Now? G.M, the police and the hospitals treat us like criminals for asking questions. They lied from the start, claiming his bandaged head was “just for holding wires,” not treating his brain injury but the fake heart-attack.
This isn’t just my father’s story. It’s a scream into the void for every blue-collar worker treated as expendable, every family abandoned by institutions, every life reduced to “liability management.” His heart didn’t just fail, the system failed him. And I will spend every breath ensuring his death becomes a reckoning.