AUGUST 16, 2010 VOLUME 17 NUMBER 26
Let’s say you have created a revocable living trust, and you have named yourself as trustee. You also name your two children as successor trustees, to act together upon your death or incapacity. Two years later you become incapacitated; because of a dispute between your two children about who should handle assets outside the trust, the probate court names a local bank as your conservator. Now who handles your trust — the bank, or your children?
Before we answer that question, let us complicate it. You are also the beneficiary of a trust set up by your late husband — and you are trustee of that trust, as well. About half of the assets the two of you owned are included in each of the two trusts. Your husband’s trust names you as trustee (now that he is deceased) and names the two children as successor trustees if anything should happen to you. Does your conservator have any authority over that trust?
Those were precisely the questions faced by a probate judge in South Dakota when Evelyn Didier became incapacitated. The bank appointed as her conservator asked the court to clarify that it had control over both trusts as well as Ms. Didier’s non-trust assets. The judge agreed, and Ms. Didier’s daughter Barbara Didier-Stager appealed.
Court appointment of a conservator does not amount to appointment of a successor trustee, argued Ms. Didier’s daughter. In fact, appointment of a conservator proves the incapacity that triggers a change in trustees — resulting in the son and daughter taking over as successor trustee of their mother’s trust. As to their father’s trust, the successor trustee provisions are triggered by the conservatorship in the same way — though our simplified version of the facts described above fails to clarify that the successor trustees of that trust were actually Ms. Didier-Stager and another local bank — different from the bank acting as Ms. Didier’s conservator.
South Dakota, like Arizona, has adopted the Uniform Probate Code — though South Dakota’s version has been updated more recently and is more current. The Code includes provisions about guardianship and conservatorship (though now those sections have been set aside as a separate uniform law, the Uniform Guardianship and Protective Proceedings Act). Those uniform laws permit the judge in a conservatorship proceeding to enter orders related to the protected person’s estate plan.
So, reasoned the South Dakota court, the probate court could permit Ms. Didier’s conservator to do anything that Ms. Didier herself could have done before becoming incapacitated. Her own trust was revocable and amendable — if she had wanted to do so, she could have changed the successor trustee at any time. She could have named the bank that was ultimately appointed as her conservator. Consequently, the court could allow her conservator to assume the powers of successor trustee over that trust.
The late Mr. Didiers trust was a different matter, however. Ms. Didier herself did not have the power to change the trustee, and so her conservator could not exercise that power on her behalf. That trust would have to be dealt with separately, and the Supreme Court ordered the case remanded to the probate judge to determine what to do about Mr. Didier’s trust. Conservatorship of Didier, June 30, 2010.
Does this mean that Mr. Didier’s successor trustees automatically take over, instead of Mrs. Didier’s conservator? Probably not. Other provisions of the Probate Code give the probate judge authority over trust administration, and if it appears that there is some reason not to allow the named successors to become trustee there will presumably be an order to that effect. But it does change the discussion from a choice between blindly following the document or giving Mrs. Didier’s conservator power to do anything she could do. Instead, the probate court will have to determine which approach is most consistent with the trust, with proper administration, and with the best interests of the trust’s beneficiaries.
The Uniform law actually goes quite a bit further today than the 1974 version originally adopted in Arizona (though Arizona has updated portions of the law several times). Reviewing the statute in the context of the Didier case highlights some of the changes. Among the powers given to conservators by the “new” Code (as adopted in South Dakota, for instance) is the power to “make, amend, or revoke the protected person’s will.” (See Section 411(a)(7) of the Uniform Guardianship and Protective Proceedings Act.) Court approval is required, but the very notion of a conservator changing the protected person’s estate plan might strike some as dangerous.
JUNE 28, 2010 VOLUME 17, NUMBER 21 Mesa, Arizona, lawyer Donald C. Galbasini first began representing members of the Tremble family in 1998. That was when he filed a notice that he would be the attorney for Vernice Tremble, who was serving as conservator for Edward Tremble, Jr., her grandson.
Nine years later Vernice Tremble was removed by the probate judge as conservator — and also as trustee of a special needs trust that had been set up for Edward Tremble. A professional trustee was appointed to take over management of the special needs trust. A year and a half after that, Edward Tremble died and another family member was appointed to finalize the trust administration and distribution. Mr. Galbasini filed a notice that he would be representing the new trustee in connection with wrapping up the trust.
A month after stepping in as the new trustee’s lawyer, Mr. Galbasini filed a request for approval of a $46,736.65 fee — for his representation dating back to 1998. The state Medicaid agency (which would receive most of the balance of Edward Tremble’s trust under the rules governing self-settled special needs trusts) objected, arguing that it was too late for Mr. Galbasini to be filing his bill for approval and payment.
The trustee who had been handling the trust in the interim joined in the state’s objection, adding other arguments. Because of Mr. Galbasini’s long involvement and representation of a conservator who had been removed, argued the trustee, it would be impossible at this late date to figure out whether his representation had benefited Edward Tremble or other family members. The trustee pointed out that Mr. Galbasini had billed at his regular attorney rate for ministerial actions like writing checks out of his client trust account. Furthermore, the trustee was concerned that none of Mr. Galbasini’s reported time was for contact with Vernice Tremble, his client — all of his contacts had been with Edward Tremble’s parents, Mr. Galbasini’s client’s son and daughter-in-law.
The probate judge agreed, and denied Mr. Galbasini’s fee request as untimely. The Arizona Court of Appeals, however, disagreed — it reversed the fee denial and sent the matter back to the trial judge for further hearings. The question wasn’t whether the fee request was late, ruled the appellate court — instead, the important question was whether the fees were reasonable and for the benefit of Edward Tremble’s trust and conservatorship estates.
The appellate court did not rule that Mr. Galbasini’s fees were reasonable, but only that he needed to be given a chance to explain and defend them. If the court finds that the fees were incurred during times when he did not actually represent the conservator or trustee, for instance, the Court of Appeals agreed that those fees should be denied. The mere lateness of the application, however, was not enough to justify a complete denial of Mr. Galbasini’s fees. Conservatorship of Tremble, June 10, 2010.
What makes a trust a “spendthrift” trust, and what does it mean? A recent Florida Court of Appeal case gives a good snapshot of the significance and the effect of the categorization.
Elizabeth Miller wanted to leave her property to her two sons, but wanted to protect against her money being subjected to the claims of their creditors. This was particularly important to her because one son, James F. Miller, had already been sued over a business deal gone bad. In fact, there was a million dollar judgment on record and the plaintiffs were trying to collect from James.
Ms. Miller left James’s share of her estate in a trust with her other son, Jerry Miller, as trustee. The language of the trust authorized Jerry to give James any or all of the trust’s assets, but ordered that he not turn over anything to James’s creditors. Within weeks of making that change, Ms. Miller died and her estate passed partly to Jerry as trustee of James’s trust.
James’s creditors sued Jerry and the trust, claiming that James really exercised control over investments, distributions and trust decisions. The trial court agreed, and ruled that James had so much control over the trust and his brother that his interest in the trust had effectively “merged” into an ownership interest. The court’s order allowed James’s creditors to get to his inheritance.
Not so fast, said the Florida Court of Appeal. The appellate court agreed that James had effectively made trust decisions in place of Jerry, but noted that Jerry had the power to take back control at any time. It is the language of the trust itself and not the behavior of the trustee or the beneficiary that must control whether a spendthrift provision is effective, said the judges.
Had Ms. Miller’s trust given James the right to demand principal (or income) from the trust, that would have been a different matter. Because the decision to make those distributions ultimately rested with Jerry as trustee, James’s creditors could not reach behind the trust to gain access to the assets directly.
The appellate court agreed that “the facts in this case are perhaps the most egregious example of a trustee abdicating his responsibilities to manage and distribute trust property.” Nonetheless, the failure of the trustee to exercise control over the trust did not invalidate the spendthrift provision itself, and James’s creditors could not gain access to his inheritance. Miller v. Kresser, May 5, 2010.
Would Arizona courts have the same high regard for spendthrift provisions? Probably, if the trust’s property did not originally belong to the beneficiary. An individual can not create a spendthrift trust to protect his or her own property from creditors — though there are some exceptions. The most important exception under Arizona law is for trusts established for a beneficiary with a disability — so-called “special needs” trusts.
United Financial Systems Corporation looks like they can do it all. According to their website (which you will have to look up for yourself — we don’t want to point to it since it still includes information about how to sign up for the activities that have now been prohibited), they can tell you how to plan your estate, retirement, insurance needs, health care — even your funeral arrangements. There is a disclaimer that lets you know they do not practice law (and do not give investment advice). The Indiana Supreme Court begs to differ.
In a disciplinary action three weeks ago, that state’s high court found that UFSC was “an insurance marketing agency,” and it was practicing law. The company was ordered to stop selling living trusts, to give every client a copy of the Court’s opinion, to offer refunds to all clients they had worked with in the past four years, and to pay the costs and some of the attorney’s fees associated with the proceeding. A handful of lawyers were included in the disciplinary process; most agreed to end their involvement with UFSC (and the practice of participating in non-lawyer legal work) and were dismissed from the case.
What was UFSC doing? It had “Estate Planning Assistants” (non-lawyers) contact prospective customers to tell them about the importance of estate planning. If the customer signed up for the $2,695 living trust package, the salesperson collected $750 to $900 and helped the customer fill out a questionnaire.
That questionnaire was then sent to one of several attorneys UFSC hired to prepare living trusts, wills and powers of attorney. The attorney would be paid $225, and would make one telephone call to the client to discuss the estate plan. Once a trust and supporting documents were prepared the signing was handled by another UFSC salesperson — for another $75 slice of the total fee.
The person handling the signing, whose title was usually “Financial Planning Assistant,” also had access to the customer’s financial information (remember that questionnaire?) and could make recommendations about investment changes. One common proposal was to liquidate other investments in order to purchase an annuity — which, incidentally, would yield a significant commission for the Financial Planning Assistant and UFSC.
The Indiana Supreme Court’s opinion details one extreme example of the effect of this marketing juggernaut. The 72-year-old woman was persuaded to liquidate $500,000 worth of Exxon Mobil stock — the bulk of her entire net worth — in order to purchase an annuity. The result: she incurred a $132,000 income tax liability and her salesperson received a $40,000 commission. State of Indiana ex rel. Indiana State Bar Association v. United Financial Systems Corporation, April 14, 2010.
Would UFSC face the same result in Arizona? Probably not. While the unauthorized practice of law is prohibited by court rule, Arizona repealed its criminal statute decades ago. The Arizona Supreme Court has not been active in reviewing such cases, and indeed has even created a “certified document preparer” classification for non-lawyers who “assist” clients in creating wills and trusts.
How can you avoid being taken advantage of by non-lawyer “estate planners” or “document prepapers”? Lawyers tend to think the best answer is the simplest one: hire a lawyer for your legal needs. If you are approached by a “finanical planning assistant” or something similar, you might want to ask “assistant to whom?”
If the salesperson assures you that they have a crack team of estate planners, tax advisers and financial consultants, ask for a few names, titles and credentials. Above all, be very cautious of any person or group who also happens to sell annuities or other insurance products. Not all insurance salespersons are questionable, but practically all questionable non-lawyer “estate planners” sell insurance products.
Despite being cloaked in arcane terms and arguments, the legal system usually makes sense in the real world in which it operates. Sometimes, however, it may take the legal system a few years — or a few centuries — to catch up with that real world. One illustration: the difficulties that can arise in trying to answer the deceptively simple question of paternity, especially after the death of the putative father.
Five (or so) centuries of common law developed before DNA testing for paternity became possible. During that long period courts frequently focused on the importance of protecting the family — a child born to a married woman was presumed (and almost conclusively so) to be the child of the woman’s husband.
Another important development in that long history centered on the privacy rights of all the interested parties. It became extremely difficult to force any contesting person to submit to medical testing to determine paternity. Of course, there were no particularly precise tests available until quite recently.
Today, of course, genetic testing is much more precise and useful in determining parental relationships. Does that mean that the legal system has embraced DNA tests as a means of settling disputes about paternity? Not yet.
Consider Adrian Doe, Jr.’s trusts. Mr. Doe set up a series of trusts which, upon his death, divided into equal shares for his children. At the time of his death he had two children born while he was married to their mother — Adrian III and Evelyn. He also left behind two possible children from Costa Rica, whose respective mothers both asserted that he was the father. What was the trustee to do about Maria and Madelin?
Maria’s birth certificate named Mr. Doe as her father, but Madelin’s was silent about paternity. Should the trustee assume that the records were correct, and create a trust share for one of his possible daughters but not the other?
The trustee asked the Florida probate court what it should do, and the court appointed an attorney to represent the interests of the two minor girls. One filed a request that Evelyn and Adrian III be ordered to submit to cheek swabs in order to determine whether they shared DNA with the girls. The probate court agreed with the request.
The Florida Court of Appeals, citing some of the history of paternity and privacy laws, disagreed and quashed the DNA testing order — for the moment. It did, however, note that with slightly better-developed facts Madelin’s lawyer might be able to procure a new testing order. The appellate court even went so far as to suggest some of the evidence that might demonstrate the need for the testing.
If Madelin’s mother were to explicitly state that Mr. Doe was the father, evidence before the court showed that testing the two acknowledged children would be likely to establish Madelin’s and Maria’s paternity (or prove that they were not Mr. Doe’s children), and there were an explanation as to why Mr. Doe’s DNA could not be obtained (there was some indication that he might have been cremated), then the court might approve the testing. It also would want, however, to give Evelyn and Adrian III a chance to explain any particular privacy concerns they might want the probate court to consider. Doe v. Suntrust Bank, January 29, 2010.
You would like to make sure that your children get along after you are no longer around to tell them to behave, wouldn’t you? Although you may not anticipate any disagreements, you know that money can change relationships, and you have seen how the death of a parent can interfere with sibling relationships. Perhaps you have considered including a “no-contest” provision in your will or trust, and you wonder: Would that help maintain family harmony?
The name lawyers usually apply to such no-contest provisions is revealing. We call them “in terrorem” clauses — meaning that they are intended to terrorize anyone who would otherwise receive a share of the estate from filing any contests. But do they actually work? They can, but they seldom do. Why not?
The primary reason is simple. Say your plan is to leave everything to your three children, in equal shares. Since that is exactly what would happen if you had no will (or trust — in terrorem provisions can be used in trusts, too), there is no incentive for any of them to contest your estate plan anyway. No one else would receive anything even if your documents were successfully challenged, so there is simply no need to include a no-contest clause.
Maybe your plan is different. Say one of your children has already received a significant share of your property, or you disapprove of his or her life choices. You want to disinherit that child, and you want to make sure he or she does not contest your plan. In this situation the in terrorem provision is not going to make much difference — since the disinherited child receives nothing anyway, providing that they will be disinherited if they contest the documents is not much of a deterrent.
All right. Let’s say you really want to make the point. You agree to leave a small share of your estate — perhaps a few thousand dollars — to the disfavored child, and then include an in terrorem provision. Will this work?
It might. Obviously, the beneficiary who is slated to receive something but who will lose it for contesting will have to think twice about filing any objections. You should know, however, that Arizona law (like the law of a number of other states) limits the effectiveness of the provision. If your disgruntled heir has “probable cause” to file an objection — even if he or she is ultimately unsuccessful — the in terrorem provision will not be enforced. (For one illustration of how this might work, consider the 2000 Arizona Supreme Court case of Matter of Shumway, which we described in an “Editor’s Note” to our 1999 article on the Court of Appeals decision in the same case.)
We do not include many no-contest clauses in wills and trusts we draft for our clients. They probably do no harm, except that they would leave our clients with a false sense that they had protected against family conflicts. If conflict avoidance is important to you, we need to come up with a better plan — like including a requirement that any contest be submitted to arbitration or mediation. We can discuss specific ideas for your particular situation.
Quite often we see revocable living trusts fail because individuals do not understand the importance of changing ownership of assets to the trust. In most cases that means the unnecessary expense of a probate proceeding that could have been avoided. Sometimes the effects are more dramatic, as in a recent case decided by the Arizona Court of Appeals.
Warren Parker, Jr., bought real estate in the Phoenix area in 1983. He was married, but his wife Ruth Parker signed a “disclaimer deed” indicating that she made no claim to the property. Three years later Mr. Parker created a trust for his separate property, providing that on his death it would pass to his five children by his first wife. He also signed a deed transferring the property into the name of the trust.
A decade later he signed and recorded another deed transferring the property out of the trust and back into his own name individually. He never got around to moving the property back into the trust’s name, though when he died in 2004 his will left the property to the trust.
By that time Mrs. Parker was in a nursing home. She used Arizona’s summary probate proceeding for small parcels of real property to make the claim that she was the proper recipient of the real estate. She claimed, erroneously, that her husband had died without a will. Then she sold the property to a third party, who on the same day re-sold to yet another buyer.
Mr. Parker’s children cried foul. They filed his will and challenged Mrs. Parker’s sale, arguing that she had never owned any interest in the property and could not convey it. On the face of things, they were right — the proceedings transferring title to her could easily have been set aside. Unfortunately, the buyer had relied on her apparent ownership, and the courts (both trial and appellate) agreed that Mr. Parker’s children could not recover the property. Estate of Parker, Feb. 26, 2008.
Why would Mr. Parker have ever transferred the property out of the trust’s name and into his own name individually? The court opinion does not explain, but it would be reasonable to guess that he sought to place a mortgage on the property, or refinance an existing mortgage, and that the lender required the property to be in his own name. That happens too often, and the lender has no incentive to help the property owner to transfer the title back to the trust after the transaction is over.
Is the problem solved by Mr. Parker’s children bringing suit against their step-mother to recover the value of the property? It may be, and in fact they have filed such a suit. But remember that she is in a nursing home — it may well be that there are no assets to recover.
What does Mr. Parker’s experience teach us? At least two lessons: it is easy to undo even the carefully crafted estate plan, and beneficiaries are well advised to act quickly to protect their interests.
June Miller once told the trust officer at her bank that she loved her son Warren Miller but that she didn’t like him very much. That might have been her motivation for making a number of changes to her estate plan in the last few years of her life. After she died her son sued the bank for letting her make those changes.
When Ms. Miller’s husband (and Warren Miller’s father) died in 1995 he left a trust for Ms. Miller’s benefit. When she died, the trust was to go to their only child, Warren Miller. Ms. Miller had significant assets of her own, and she also established a trust with Key Bank in Ohio. At one point her trust gave Warren the right to approve all investment decisions and trust amendments in the event that Ms. Miller became incapacitated. In 2001, without telling Warren, she changed that provision and deleted his power to review trust activities.
At about the same time Ms. Miller exercised her power to withdraw some of her husband’s trust assets, saying that she intended to benefit her grandchildren at her son’s expense by shifting them to her estate. She also made a series of transfers to a caretaker and family, helping them to buy a home and making outright gifts of about $120,000.
Even as those changes were being undertaken, Ms. Miller was first diagnosed as suffering from mild dementia. When she died in 2002, her son Warren sued the bank, the caretaker and her family members.
Mr. Miller argued that the bank had a duty to watch out for Ms. Miller’s finances and to prevent exploitation. He claimed that the caretaker had in fact exploited his mother. He also insisted that the changes to her trust were made at a time when she was already demented, and that the bank was required to let him review those changes before accepting them.
A trial judge dismissed Mr. Miller’s claims against the bank and the caretaker, and the Ohio Court of Appeals agreed. Whatever duty the bank owed was to Ms. Miller and not to her son, said the appellate judges. Furthermore, the mere diagnosis of dementia was not enough to establish that she could not amend her trust, or make gifts to her caretaker. In fact, the gifts were made not from her trust, but from an account which the bank did not control. Mr. Miller had failed to carry his burden of proof to show that the bank had made any mistake, and the case was properly dismissed.
The appellate court decision also approved dismissal of the claims against Ms. Miller’s caretaker and family members. The judges specifically noted that Mr. Miller didn’t seem to have had any questions about his mother’s competence when she paid off his mortgage, arranged a monthly allowance for him and made other large gifts to him. Miller v. KeyBank National Association, April 6, 2006.
Ralph Blakely, Jr., signed himself in to a mental health treatment facility for the first time in 1972. Despite treatment he received from time to time over the next quarter century, he continued to suffer from delusions, hallucinations and impaired memory.
Mr. Blakely married in 1973. He and his wife Yolanda owned various businesses over the years, including a dairy farm, an orchard, and other properties. He apparently continued to live a tumultuous life; by 1995 the couple had been involved in over 60 lawsuits. Partly to protect their assets from possible creditors the Blakelys created a trust to hold title to most of their property.
In 1995 Mr. Blakely’s legal troubles began to escalate. First his wife filed for a dissolution of their marriage. A year later the trustee of the trust which the couple had created asked the court to compel Mrs. Blakely to account for her use of trust assets; she argued that Mr. Blakely, his father and son were liable for any shortages.
Mr. Blakely elected to represent himself in the trust and dissolution actions. About three weeks before the trust trial, however, he was arrested for kidnapping his wife and son, and he went to jail pending a trial on those charges.
The attorneys appointed to represent Mr. Blakely in his criminal trial asked the court in the trust and dissolution actions to appoint a guardian ad litem (usually referred to as a “GAL”) in those proceedings. The GAL would be able, they argued, to determine what would be in Mr. Blakely’s best interests, and to manage the litigation without exposing him to further criminal problems. Although the court initially denied the request a local attorney was ultimately appointed to serve as guardian ad litem.
The trust case was the first of Mr. Blakely’s three legal problems to be resolved. His GAL helped negotiate a resolution of the claims and counterclaims, and the court approved the settlement.
Next Mr. Blakely faced the criminal charges arising from his having kidnapped his wife and son. A jury heard that matter and decided that his mental condition was not so serious as to prevent him from participating in own trial. Armed with that finding Mr. Blakely asked that his GAL be dismissed in the trust and dissolution matters so that he could once again represent himself. Those requests were denied and he appealed.
The Washington Court of Appeals upheld the lower court’s determination that Mr. Blakely needed a GAL to make decisions in his best interests. Court rules allow for appointment of a GAL when a litigant is unable to understand the significance of legal proceedings. A full hearing on the request was not required since he did not object until after the appointment. Marriage of Blakely and Blakely, April 25, 2002.
P.K.L., a disabled veteran, lived with his sister J.K.S. in Phoenix. The Arizona Veteran’s Service Commission had served as his guardian and conservator for twenty years when, in 1989, his sister petitioned the Maricopa County Superior Court for the removal of the AVSC and her own appointment.
The court-appointed visitor, when asked to evaluate J.K.S.’s suitability to serve as guardian and conservator, expressed concerns about her use of her brother’s substantial veteran’s disability check to subsidize her entire family’s living expenses. Nonetheless, all parties agreed that she could be appointed.
At the time of the appointment, Maricopa County Judge Morris Rozar also ordered that J.K.S. should give her brother $250 each week for his own uses and pay herself $2,000 per month for “room and board for and the reasonable care of P.K.L.” This arrangement continued for the next two years.
At the time of J.K.S.’s third annual court accounting, however, Maricopa County Superior Court Commissioner Ken Reeves raised several concerns about the expenditures of P.K.L.’s funds. First, he questioned whether the money was being paid for room and board alone (in which case the court’s investigator now opined that P.K.L. was not getting much for his $2,000 each month), or whether she was also paying herself for care of her brother. If, however, the monthly sum was being paid for care, Commissioner Reeves wanted to determine whether J.K.S. was properly reporting the receipt of income on her personal taxes, and whether the amount paid was appropriate for the care provided. He ordered J.K.S. to produce her tax returns.
Although she objected to the order, J.K.S. provided income tax information and a household budget for her brother and her own family. From that information, Commissioner Reeves determined that P.K.L.’s share of household expenses should be set at about $750 per month, and J.K.S. required to show what care she was providing for the remaining $1,250 each month. He also noted that J.K.S. was apparently receiving additional money from a family trust established by her (and P.K.L.’s) father, and that her attorney in the conservatorship proceeding was apparently the trustee of that trust. Commissioner Reeves entered orders expanding the scope of his inquiry into the trust’s administration.
Although the Commissioner’s order left open the question whether J.K.S. could establish that the $2,000 per month was an appropriate payment for her services and room and board combined, J.K.S. appealed his decision to the Arizona Court of Appeals. She argued that Commissioner Reeves had no jurisdiction to alter the earlier Order of Judge Rozar, or to inquire into the administration of the family trust. She also objected to Commissioner Reeves’ “threat” (as she characterized it) to report her to the IRS for failure to report her income.
The Court of Appeals rejected her arguments. They noted that Commissioner Reeves also served as a Judge pro tem (a status shared by Pima County Court Commissioners), and had authority to amend a Judge’s Order. They also noted that Commissioner/Judge Reeves was correctly interested in all of P.K.L.’s financial dealings, including the family trust, and that he had not “threatened” J.K.S. with the IRS, but only observed that he might have a duty to report. One victory for J.K.S.: the Court agreed that she should not be required to account in detail for her spending of funds paid to her for P.K.L.’s care other than room and board. In the Matter of the Estate of P.K.L., February 13, 1996.
Although the Court of Appeals decision was rendered in February, 1996, the Court withdrew it in August with a notation that a revised opinion would be forthcoming. Elder Law Issues will report on the new opinion when it is received.
