Posts Tagged ‘Missouri’

Failure of the Imagination in Seven-Decade-Old Trust

SEPTEMBER 6, 2016 VOLUME 23 NUMBER 33
Why involve an attorney in your estate planning? Partly because they know the rules — and not just the rules about how to prepare a valid and comprehensive document, but also the rules about taxes, trust limitations, and all of the related concerns you might not focus on without professional assistance. But lawyers are also good at imagining unlikely scenarios, and covering all the possibilities.

At least they usually are. Sometimes even lawyers suffer failures of imagination. Our training and inclination leads us to consciously consider unlikely scenarios, but sometimes even lawyers get caught up in the language or the particular desires of the client. And sometimes it takes years — or even decades — to find the flaw in the language.

Consider Darthea Harrison’s trust, signed in March of 1947 in Kansas. For context: living trusts were quite rare before the middle of the twentieth century. Most lawyers of the day might only have prepared a handful, and few state laws dealt specifically with trust interpretation. By contrast, wills were commonplace, and benefited from centuries of developed law addressing questions of interpretation. That might be why Ms. Harrison’s lawyers made the mistake they did.

The trust Ms. Harrison signed provided that she would receive all the income from trust assets for the rest of her life. After her death, her son (and only child) William would be entitled to the income for the rest of his life. After that, the trust principal was to be distributed to Ms. Harrison’s two brothers or, if they were no longer living, to their children.

That seems straightforward enough, but the failure was one of imagination. What actually happened: Ms. Harrison died in 1962 and her son William died in 2013 (without ever having had children). When William died, both of Ms. Harrison’s brothers had already died — and so had all of their children (they would have been Ms. Harrison’s nieces and nephews). But the nieces and nephews did leave a total of eight children of their own.

What should happen to the remaining trust principal? Should it be given to the grandchildren of Ms. Harrison’s two brothers? Should it go to Ms. Harrison’s estate (which was probated in 1964, and would have to be reopened to determine who would receive her “new” estate)? Should it “escheat” to the State of Kansas (where Ms. Harrison died) or to the State of Missouri (where the trust was administered)? What about the fact that Ms. Harrison’s husband — who survived her — was not the father of her son, and in fact married her after the trust was executed?

This uncertainty could easily have been resolved if, back in 1947, the attorneys drafting Ms. Harrison’s trust had simply provided that upon the death of her brothers their share of her trust would devolve not to their children, but to their descendants. Alternatively, she could have considered the possibility and decided that she would then want to benefit a charity, or more distant relatives, or someone else close to her.

If Ms. Harrison had signed a will with the same language as used in her trust, both Kansas and Missouri law would have filled in the blanks for her. Arizona law, incidentally, would have handled it the same way. In that case, five centuries of will interpretations have determined that leaving something to your relatives presumably includes their descendants if the relative dies before you — or before the future date when distribution is determined.

The Missouri probate court decided that the trust had failed, and that its remaining assets should be distributed to Ms. Harrison’s estate, which would thus need to be reopened. The Missouri Court of Appeals disagreed, and reversed the probate court holding. Instead, according to the appellate court, the interests of Ms. Harrison’s brother’s children had “vested” before they died — and the probate court should have determined where each of those beneficiaries’ shares should go now.

In some cases, that should mean that the nieces’ and nephews’ children should receive their shares. In others, it might mean that a will, or a surviving spouse, might change the outcome. In any case, the Missouri probate judge will need to conduct hearings to determine the final recipients of Ms. Harrison’s trust. Alexander v. UMB Bank, August 23, 2016.

Today, more careful drafting is commonplace. When your lawyer insists that you consider the possibility that your beneficiaries die in unlikely sequences, or that unanticipated children come into a family (by birth or adoption), or that odd combinations of simultaneous deaths occur, she is thinking about Ms. Harrison — even if she has never heard the story.

Not Every Confused Senior Needs a Guardian or Conservator

APRIL 11, 2016 VOLUME 23 NUMBER 14

It is unusual to see an appellate court decision overturning an order appointing a guardian (of the person) or conservator (of the estate). Judges tend to be protective about elderly people showing even a little evidence of mental decline — often to the point of paternalism. It was refreshing to read a Missouri Court of Appeals decision last month that reversed a probate judge’s appointment of a conservator.

The legal story of Dave Burbank (not his real name) began in his 83rd year. He had recently married Cathy, after the death of his wife of almost forty years. Though he was retired, Dave and Cathy lived on a farm in rural Missouri, and actively managed the farm. He had recently entered into a handshake arrangement with neighbors for the sale and lease of a piece of land, and he had signed health care powers of attorney naming the same neighbors as his agents.

When a complaint was filed with Missouri’s Adult Protective Services, they conducted an investigation. Among the things APS did was to arrange a visit with a nurse practitioner; she reported that Dave was unable to complete a “clock test” — when instructed to draw a clock face with the hands pointing to a designated time, he could not follow the instruction. Based on that, the nurse practitioner determined that Dave “lacked the ability to make sound decisions because he lacked the ability to show insight or communication clearly.”

At a court hearing some months later, the local probate judge found Dave to be incapacitated and disabled. The judge appointed Dave’s daughter and the local Public Administrator to be co-guardians and co-conservators, and also ordered that recent transactions entered into by Dave would be voided, and that his marriage to Cathy was invalid.

Dave moved for reconsideration, and four months after the initial proceedings the probate judge conducted a follow-up hearing. At that hearing, the Public Administrator testified that, now that she’d had a chance to meet Dave, she believed that he was able to manage his affairs. Cheryl seemed to be helping with Dave’s needs and care, and acting appropriately. In fact, according to the Public Administrator, the only real concern was what seemed to be the transactions entered into with the neighbors who had filed the original petition — she thought that their handshake deal seemed to take advantage of Dave.

A doctor who completed a more thorough medical evaluation than in the original proceedings agreed that Dave was friendly, cooperative, engaging and generally capable. It was true, the witnesses agreed, that he was losing some ability to recall recent events (and even seeing some long-term memory loss), and that he suffered from mild cognitive decline. But he could sign a new power of attorney, designating his wife (or someone) to help him with more complicated transactions.

According to the doctor evaluating Dave, it would be appropriate to consider a court-appointed conservator who could slow down any “sudden, rash or misdirected financial decisions” that he might be manipulated into undertaking. Based on that, and (presumably) on the natural tendency to be protective, the probate judge decided to modify the original order he had imposed. This time, he appointed Cheryl to serve as the sole conservator, with her authority limited to preventing any transfer of sale, transfer or conversion of real estate owned by Dave.

Still not satisfied with the reduced court intervention, Dave appealed. The Missouri Court of Appeals considered his argument that there had been insufficient evidence to impose even the limited conservatorship, and agreed. The probate court order was reversed, and the conservatorship ended.

The appellate court noted that a guardianship or conservatorship must be shown by “clear and convincing evidence,” a higher standard than the usual requirement for civil lawsuits. Considering all the testimony, and the fact that the initial proceedings were initiated by the very people who appeared to have taken business advantage of Dave, the appellate judges ruled that the record was “devoid of clear and convincing evidence” of his disability. In the Matter of Barnard, March 22, 2016.

Would Dave’s experience be the same, or similar, in Arizona courts? It might well be.

First, Arizona law is essentially similar to the appellate court’s description of Missouri’s law on guardianship and conservatorship. As in Missouri, the Arizona rules require proof by “clear and convincing evidence.” That’s higher than the “preponderance of the evidence” standard imposed on most civil lawsuits, though not as high a burden as the “beyond a reasonable doubt” standard applied in criminal cases.

Arizona also has an additional requirement before appointment of a guardian (of the person) can be considered: the court must specifically find that a person in Dave’s position would be unable to provide for their own food, shelter and necessities without the assistance or intervention of a guardian. That seems like it would have been difficult to show in Dave’s case, and that would probably mean no guardian would be appointed — but it would not prevent appointment of a conservator or limited conservator (of the estate).

It seems likely that, if an Arizona court appointed a guardian, conservator, or limited conservator for someone with a story similar to Dave’s, the appellate court in Arizona would (like the Missouri Court of Appeals) reverse the appointment. But would a probate judge in Arizona appoint a guardian or conservator in the first instance?

It’s hard to generalize, since probate judges vary widely in their experiences, resources and attitudes. We would hope that a Tucson (Pima County) probate judge would not have appointed a guardian, conservator or limited conservator on the basis of evidence as flimsy as that introduced in Dave’s initial and subsequent court proceedings. Judges, though, are often protective — and sometimes overprotective.

Our bottom line: we admire Dave for his persistence and his ability to object to even the limited conservatorship imposed on him. We are proud of him, and of the Missouri Court of Appeals.

Avoiding Probate — A Good Idea, But Not Always Effective

AUGUST 25, 2014 VOLUME 21 NUMBER 30

Some people really don’t like city traffic, and will go out of their way to get on the freeway whenever possible. Of course, that approach can backfire — freeway traffic is sometimes snarled, and sometimes in unpredictable ways (and at unpredictable times). Avoidance of surface traffic can be a good practice, but of course isn’t itself the end goal; the real point is to get where you’re going quickly and efficiently, with a minimum of frustration along the way.

We’ve been looking for a good metaphor to explain our view of “probate”, that vilified court process that often (though much less often than you probably think) has to be undertaken upon a family member’s death. Maybe the freeway/city street metaphor isn’t perfect, but we think it might be suggestive of the real goal. You probably want to make administration of your estate as simple as possible, while minimizing cost and aggravation for your family. You also want your wishes carried out, and you might add “no squabbling” to your list of goals. Those are your goals; “avoid probate” is no more the goal than “get on the freeway” is a goal in driving.

Why the extended traffic metaphor? Because of a case we read this month from the Missouri Court of Appeals. We thought it was a good case study in how probate avoidance sometimes is ineffective (and, in the reported case, probably even drove up the cost and complication).

Susan McCauley (not her real name) had a modest estate. In fact, her debts apparently exceeded the value of her assets. She had three children, a home, a commercial rental property, a brokerage account and three bank accounts. She and her late husband had borrowed money against the commercial property and also had a signature loan with the bank; the amount of those two loans exceeded the value of the property itself.

Whether avoidance of probate was Susan’s primary goal or not, she took several steps to accomplish that result. She made her bank accounts “payable on death” to her three children. She put a “transfer on death” titling on her brokerage account, again naming her three children. She executed beneficiary deeds naming the children as beneficiaries for all of her real estate (Missouri, like Arizona, is one of the minority of states that recognize a “beneficiary deed” or “revocable transfer on death deed” on real estate).

When Susan died in 2008, her son filed a simplified probate proceeding allowed under Missouri law, in which he recited that her probate assets consisted only of her personal property with a value of about $16,000. Since that amount was well under the Missouri limit of $40,000, he sought an order allowing transfer of all of her remaining personal property to the three children.

Not so fast, argued the bank which held Susan’s two notes. The bank claimed that Susan owed over $370,000, and asked the probate court to order her son to bring all of those non-probate transfers (the beneficiary deeds, the POD and TOD accounts) back into the probate proceeding to satisfy their claim. Meanwhile, the bank went ahead and foreclosed on the one property it had most direct control over — the commercial real estate, which secured one of its loans.

After sale of the rental building, the bank’s remaining claim was a little over $164,000. It continued to insist that it should be able to get her house, bank and brokerage accounts to defray the remaining debt.

Susan’s son explained to the probate court that there really hadn’t been all that much left in her estate. After payment of about $22,000 in other debts (presumably, but not clearly, including her final medical and funeral/burial expenses), the three children had split the house and about $60,000 — including about $30,000 in equity in Susan’s house. The bank asked for judgment against the three children for the $60,000.

The probate court disagreed about the equity in the house, noting that the children had borrowed $50,000 against the house in order to pay those last expenses and that values were lower than the bank thought (remember that all this was taking place in 2008/2009). It ordered that the house be listed and sold, and that any net proceeds after repayment of the loan taken out after Susan’s death should be given to the bank. The probate court also removed Susan’s son as personal representative and appointed a new, neutral personal representative.

The bank appealed, arguing that (a) the probate court should have entered a judgment against Susan’s children and ordered them to repay the estate, rather than ordering sale of the house for whatever it might raise, and (b) the proper valuation of damages should be based on the value of the house on the date it was transferred (that is, on the date of Susan’s death), not months later as property values slid. The Missouri Court of Appeals agreed on both points.

The result: the probate court was directed to calculate and enter a judgment against Susan’s three children for the amount they received (up to the bank’s debt, which clearly exceeded any valuation of the amount they received). Rather than ordering sale of the house and distribution of any net proceeds, the children would be liable for the value of everything they got — and that valuation would be as of the date of their mother’s death, not based on what they held at the time of resolution. Merriott v. Merriott, August 19, 2014.

Would the same result have occurred if Susan had lived and died in Arizona? Probably. Missouri’s statutes on bringing assets back into an estate to satisfy creditors are very similar.

In hindsight, Susan would have made a better plan by simply writing a will leaving her estate to her three children and keeping all of her assets in her name alone. Her son could have been appointed personal representative, listed her home and sold it for what it would have actually fetched on the market, identified the priority of claims against her estate (paying funeral and last-illness expenses first, plus his own — and his lawyer’s — fees for administration) and simply paid any remaining balance to the bank (and other creditors, if there were any). He (and his siblings) would not have borne the risk of a falling real estate market, would not have incurred additional administrative expenses, would not have suffered the indignity of being removed as personal representative of his mother’s estate, and would not have had a money judgment leveled against him (and his siblings). But sometimes you don’t know what traffic is going to look like until you’re already on the on-ramp.

Despite Guardianship, Ward May Have Capacity to Marry

MAY 2, 2011 VOLUME 18 NUMBER 16
We have written in previous installments about differing state laws regarding the ability of a guardian (of the person) or conservator (of the estate) to file a divorce proceeding “for” an incapacitated adult. The question that comes up more often from our clients is a little different, though. In its most direct form, it might be phrased like this: “if I get a guardianship over my demented mother, will that prevent her from getting married without my permission?”

The exact dimensions of the question, of course, vary with each asking. Sometimes there is familial anxiety about a late-life romance blooming in the assisted living facility or nursing home where a parent has been placed. Sometimes the concern is over a developmentally disabled 17-year-old about to acquire, at least theoretically, the legal right to make foolish decisions. Sometimes the question is focused on a particular dangerous suitor, and sometimes it is more generalized.

The short answer to the question: the mere fact of a guardianship probably will not prevent the ward from getting married, or the marriage from being determined to be valid. The level of capacity required to enter into a marriage agreement is not exactly the same as the level of capacity required to make one’s own placement or medical decisions — or even to enter into other kinds of contracts. But the facts underpinning the guardianship proceeding are likely to be the same facts utilized in any later challenge of the validity of a marriage.

Take the recent example of Christopher C. Oakley, who lives at Lamplight Village, an assisted-living facility in West Plains, Missouri. Mr. Oakley suffered a childhood traumatic brain injury in 1986, and has required supportive assistance with bathing, housekeeping and personal care ever since. His father was apparently appointed as guardian of his person in a Florida proceeding in 1995. A professional fiduciary was appointed as conservator of Mr. Oakley’s estate at the same time, and continues to manage the proceeds from settlement of a personal injury lawsuit filed in connection with the original accident.

As Mr. Oakley reached his early 20s he became involved with Melissa Warren, another resident of Lamplight Village. She, too, had a guardian and conservator — the Howell County, Missouri, Public Administrator was appointed to handle her finances, medical and placement decisions after the probate court determined that she was unable to do so herself.

In 2006 Mr. Oakley and Ms. Warren decided they wanted to get married. They each asked their respective guardians for permission, and both refused. They then had a friend drive them to a neighboring state, where they were married. Upon their return they began to live together in a shared apartment at Lamplight Village, and they identified themselves as a married couple.

The two guardians responded quite differently. The guardian for Ms. Warren (now Mrs. Oakley) did not initially approve, but sat down with the couple and discussed what they had done. The guardian decided that they really did want to get married, that they understood the emotional and financial meaning of their decision, and that the marriage should be allowed to stand. In fact, she told the judge, if the marriage was annulled she would intend to immediately file a petition to secure court approval for a new marriage.

Mr. Oakley’s guardian reacted to the news of the wedding by filing a petition to have the marriage annulled. He argued that his original Florida guardianship was based on a finding that his son was incapacitated, and that the marriage therefore was invalid in the first place. In testimony, he explained himself by asking, rhetorically: “what happens if he decides ten years from now that if somebody else — another girl comes into his life and it’s better and bigger and everything than what he had?” He also filed a Missouri guardianship proceeding, which was granted while the annulment proceeding was pending.

The judge hearing the annulment petition denied Mr. Oakley’s father the relief he sought. The fact of a Florida guardianship, reasoned the judge, did not prevent the ward from having the capacity to understand the meaning and effect of marriage. Neither did the fact that his intellectual functioning was well below “normal” intelligence, with an IQ estimated at about 70.

The Missouri Court of Appeals agreed, and allowed the marriage to stand. The burden of proving that Mr. Oakley lacked capacity to marry was on his guardian, ruled the appellate judges, and he had failed to carry that burden. The existence of a Florida guardianship was not adequately shown, and neither was the effect of that order. The evidence considered by the trial judge was sufficient to support his finding that Mr. Oakley, despite any guardianship order, understood the nature and effect of marriage well enough to enter into this most personal of contractual arrangements.

There are a number of other interesting side-issues involved in Mr. Oakley’s marriage annulment proceeding. At least, they are interesting to lawyers — everyone else might find them less bracing. One such issue: the lawyers, the trial judge and the appellate judges all agreed that Mr. Oakley’s capacity to marry should be assessed under the law of Arkansas, where the marriage took place, rather than the law of Missouri, where the couple lived and the legal action was filed. Meanwhile, Mr. Oakley’s father insisted that the law of Florida should govern the question of whether a ward automatically loses all capacity to marry upon the appointment of a guardian; that argument was lost, however, when the Missouri courts decided that he had not proven the existence of a Florida guardianship as required by Missouri law. In Re Marriage of Oakley, April 27, 2011.

Guardian Not Personally Liable For Alleged Lack of “Due Care”

APRIL 27, 2009  VOLUME 16, NUMBER 38

Who has the obligation to get a proper Medicaid application filed for someone in a nursing home? Can the nursing home resident’s children, spouse, guardian or conservator be forced to pay for care after the patient’s money has run out but before the state Medicaid agency receives the application paperwork in proper order?

The usual answer to that question is a simple “no.” There are exceptions — a spouse may have an obligation of support, for instance, or a child may have separately promised the nursing home that the bills will be covered. The way this question most frequently comes up, though, is when a guardian or a child (and they may sometimes be the same person, though in today’s illustration the guardian was a public agency) has signed the facility’s admission documents but has not followed through with getting Medicaid eligibility established promptly.

That was essentially what happened with Eloise Selby, who resided at Arbor View Healthcare and Rehabilitation Center in St. Joseph, Missouri. Bonnie Sue Lawson, who was the Buchanan County Public Administrator, was appointed as Ms. Selby’s guardian in 2004. A Medicaid application was already pending, but the agency did not have the paperwork necessary to determine the value of two small life insurance policies owned by Ms. Selby. Her new guardian promised to get the missing forms filed.

A month later, with no paperwork in sight, the Medicaid agency denied coverage. A second application filed a month after that included the missing forms, but Ms. Selby was again denied benefits — this time because the value of the two policies exceeded the maximum permissible amount. Yet another month later, another application was filed — and denied for the same reason.

The essential problem with the application became clear at that point: someone would need to cash in the policies, and Ms. Lawson was guardian of the person but not conservator of Ms. Selby’s estate. A conservatorship proceeding was filed, the funds collected, and the final, successful Medicaid application filed a year after the initial involvement of the Public Administrator’s office.

The nursing home then sued the guardian for the fees (and legal costs) it had not collected from Ms. Selby while the failed Medicaid applications were pending. The home’s argument: while Ms. Lawson would not be personally liable for her ward’s nursing home costs in most cases, in this case she had failed to use “due care” in fulfilling her duties.

The trial court agreed, and entered a judgment in favor of the nursing home (and against the Public Administrator) for $16,779.65 — the difference between what the nursing home had collected from Ms. Selby’s income and what it would have collected. The judge also assessed attorney’s fees and costs of $6,597.00 against the Public Administrator.

The Missouri Court of Appeals disagreed, and reversed the finding in favor of the nursing home. In  the appellate court’s analysis, Ms. Lawson’s liability for Ms. Selby’s debts was limited to the money in Ms. Selby’s name. Although the admission contract included specific language requiring the Public Administrator to use “due care,” it also included a provision that dealt directly with the possibility of Medicaid eligibility denial. That more specific section limited the facility’s rights to receiving payment from Ms. Selby’s funds; the court agreed with Ms. Lawson that the specific section controlled over the more general provision. Five Star Quality Care v. Lawson, April 7, 2009.

‘Til The Cows Come Home—A Parental Exploitation Story

APRIL 14, 2008  VOLUME 15, NUMBER 42

We see the same sad story time and again. Sometimes there are small variations, but it almost always starts the same way. Aging parents (or other relatives) need assistance with their finances and their care. As those needs increase, family members begin — often with the very best of intentions — to provide assistance but end up taking advantage. The transition from loving support to financial exploitation is tragic and common.

At least that’s the way we’d like to think Gary and Sheila Taylor of Belton, Missouri, started out. When Mr. Taylor’s father sold his home in Pennsylvania and moved in with his son and daughter-in-law, it looks like everyone thought they would be providing care for him in their home. That was what the son apparently told his two sisters, anyway.

The elder Mr. Taylor had lived in Pennsylvania all his life. His second wife became seriously ill in 1997, and daughter-in-law Sheila Taylor traveled to his home to help out. He signed a new power of attorney naming Sheila as his agent. He added her name to two of his bank accounts in Pennsylvania. When his wife died, he and his son and daughter-in-law agreed it would be better if he moved to Missouri with them.

A few months later, bank accounts in Missouri bore father, son and daughter-in-law’s names. Gary and his father sent $10,000 checks to each of Gary’s sisters, with a note indicating that Mr. Taylor was trying to avoid the probate process. Then the elder Mr. Taylor suffered a stroke, and his care needs escalated.

While Mr. Taylor was still recuperating from his stroke, Sheila wrote a $7,100 check to pay off a credit card in her and Gary’s name. Then she and Gary decided to purchase a farm property and to build a new house on the property that would allow Mr. Taylor to move in. Mr. Taylor’s money paid for the property and construction — and also for a tractor, a utility vehicle and a herd of cows. All were in Gary and Sheila’s names, with no mention of Mr. Taylor’s contribution. Not too long thereafter, Gary and Sheila Taylor did some ironic estate planning of their own, transferring “their” assets into a revocable living trust.

Mr. Taylor ended up living on the farm he had purchased for about six months before going to a nursing home. When he died a few months later, there were no assets left in his name to go through the probate process. Almost $400,000 of money that had once belonged to him had gone into the farm, house, equipment and cows titled in Gary and Sheila’s revocable living trust. Mr. Taylor’s daughters sued, and argued that they should be entitled to a portion of the farm — and even of the cattle herd.

The Missouri Court of Appeals agreed. The appellate judges explained the legal notion of a “constructive trust”—and then ordered that the trial court conduct a new hearing to determine how much of the property belonged to Mr. Taylor’s daughters. Taylor-McDonald vs. Taylor, January 10, 2008.

Arizona Legislature Changes Format For Beneficiary Deed

APRIL 3, 2006  VOLUME 13, NUMBER 40

Five years ago the Arizona Legislature adopted an interesting new law. Modeled on a similar law in Missouri, the “beneficiary deed” statute permitted property owners to designate who would receive their property on death—much like a “payable on death” bank account. Now the state legislature has revisited beneficiary deeds, and made them even more flexible and useful.

One unanswered problem arose a handful of times under the previous law. What would happen if a person named to receive property by a beneficiary deed died before the original property owner? If, for example, a parent signed a beneficiary deed to “my two children, John and Mary,” and Mary died before the parent leaving children of her own, did that mean that her children would receive her share, or that son John would own the entire property on the parent’s death?

Effective this fall (the date is not yet set and won’t be known until the legislature adjourns) beneficiary deeds can solve that problem. Under a law signed by Governor Napolitano on March 24, 2006, all new beneficiary deeds must include a paragraph indicating which of two choices the owner prefers. The language required by the new law:

If a grantee beneficiary predeceases the owner, the conveyance to that grantee beneficiary shall either (choose one):

[] Become null and void.

[] Become part of the estate of the grantee beneficiary.

There are still a number of important issues to remember in the use of beneficiary deeds, and it will not be appropriate in every case to use this approach to transfer property. With some of the following limitations in mind, however, it may be that the beneficiary deed is a simple, inexpensive and useful method to avoid probate, especially in small estates. Among the remaining limitations for beneficiary deeds:

  • They are not available in every state. As of this writing, only Arizona, Arkansas, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Nevada, New Mexico and Ohio permit the use of beneficiary deeds.
  • An individual using a beneficiary deed will need to coordinate his or her estate plan as to multiple assets—it may, for instance, be necessary to keep track of beneficiary designations on multiple properties, several bank accounts, and a number of insurance policies and brokerage accounts. Anyone with more than a handful of assets should probably consider a living trust instead.
  • A beneficiary deed can be changed by a surviving owner, so in the case of a husband and wife (for example), the final distribution is not set until the second death.
  • The beneficiary deed provides no estate tax planning benefits for larger estates.

And what about individuals who signed an Arizona beneficiary deed before the new law was passed? Nothing in the law requires them to change their deeds, but they would be well-advised to consider updating the language to clarify what would happen if a beneficiary died before them. For those who might sign a beneficiary deed between now and the effective date, the best approach is less clear. Both the existing law and the new version require that beneficiary deeds be “substantially in the following form”—and then the form changes. Our advice: if you plan on signing an Arizona beneficiary deed in the next few months, expect to sign an updated version this fall.

©2016 Fleming & Curti, PLC
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