NOVEMBER 7, 2011 VOLUME 18 NUMBER 38
A woman has been diagnosed as suffering from dementia of the Alzheimer’s type, and she resides in an assisted living facility. She has short-term memory loss, is frequently forgetful and has difficulty with tasks like playing cards and operating her television set. Can she sign a new will?
That is the legal question posed by Clara Marsh’s will, which she wrote out in longhand and signed in 2006. Ms. Marsh died two years later, and her son and daughter ended up in a legal battle over whether the will was valid.
To be more precise, Ms. Marsh’s will actually presents two related but independent legal questions. First: was she competent to sign the will on the day she did? Second: if she was competent, did her son and daughter-in-law exert undue influence on her in connection with the new will?
A brief background is in order. Ms. Marsh had a 1996 will that left everything equally to her two children. When she moved into a condominium in 2003, she wrote to the children telling them that she intended to leave her new home to her son Richard. He had helped her with the purchase, and she explained to the children that she had placed her new home in joint tenancy (with right of survivorship) with Richard. She did not, however, sign a new will at that time.
In 2006 Ms. Marsh moved to an assisted living facility, and the condominium was sold. The proceeds from that sale then became a bone of contention between her son Richard and her daughter Elaine Grayson. Richard thought the proceeds should be put into an account in his and his mother’s names as joint tenants; Elaine insisted that the proceeds be placed in an account in Ms. Marsh’s name alone.
As the two siblings (and their respective spouses) debated how to handle the sale proceeds, Elaine’s husband John filed a guardianship petition. He alleged that Ms. Marsh had Alzheimer’s disease and dementia. Richard opposed the guardianship petition, and the relationship between the two couples deteriorated.
A month after the guardianship was filed Ms. Marsh prepared a one-paragraph will in her own handwriting. It said:
Because of all the legal problems Elaine and John are causing, I am afraid my final wishes will be ignored. To prevent this from happening, this is my new will: I leave everything to my son Richard and his wife Sam. I love you all very much.
This new will was witnessed by Ms. Marsh’s priest and the church secretary. She apparently did show it to Richard shortly after she signed it (he says he told her to “hide this someplace” and think it over), but she did not share it with Elaine or her husband John.
After Ms. Marsh’s death in 2008, Richard filed the handwritten will with the Ohio probate court. Elaine objected, arguing that (a) Ms. Marsh had been incompetent at the time of the will’s signing, and (b) Richard and his wife had exerted undue influence over Ms. Marsh to get her to disinherit Elaine. The probate court granted summary judgment to Richard, thereby dismissing the objections raised by Elaine.
The Ohio Court of Appeals agreed with the probate court on the first issue, but sent the dispute back to probate court for further proceedings regarding the undue influence count. Despite a diagnosis of dementia, and despite forgetfulness and confusion, the appellate court agreed that Ms. Marsh appeared to understand the things needed to make a valid will. She knew who her children (and in-laws) were, and even though she may not have known the precise nature of her assets she did understand what was involved with her estate. She knew she was making a will, and the effect of doing so. Summary judgment was appropriate on the question of her legal capacity to sign a will. Despite her limitations, despite her diagnosis and despite her living situation, she was able to make her new will.
But it still might be possible to show that she was subjected to undue influence, and the appellate court took pains to distinguish the two concepts. Undue influence, the court noted, is not the same as general influence — even “strong and controlling” influence. To be “undue,” influence must be so pervasive and effective as to result in the document reflecting the wishes of the influencer and not those of the signer. That is a high barrier for a will challenger to cross, but Elaine should be given a chance to introduce evidence to support her claim, ruled the Court of Appeals. In Re Estate of Marsh, October 28, 2011.
Other than the obvious (“don’t exercise undue influence over seniors”), what lessons can we take from Ms. Marsh’s story to guide our actions when working with seniors like her? We might submit a couple for your consideration:
Don’t forget that, while you and other family members dispute how best to handle the senior’s finances (or life), he or she may have some strong opinions and may actually feel affected by your decisions, arguments and tactics.
“Winning” may not be as important in family disputes as figuring out a way to get along. The cost of this particular dispute: thousands of dollars in legal fees, irreparable damage to family relationships and (and not least) psychic injury to the individual everyone was trying to protect.
Family disputes are sometimes about the best interests of a vulnerable family member, sometimes about dollars, sometimes about pride, and sometimes about control. In our professional experience, those last are often the most difficult ones to resolve.
OCTOBER 11, 2010 VOLUME 17 NUMBER 32
Imagine this: you have a long-standing history of philanthropy and community involvement. You have substantial assets and you feel that you should use some of them to enrich the community where you live, where you made your fortune, and where your children were raised. Your spouse agrees with you about these goals, and the two of you want to make sure someone has the power to continue to pursue those goals even if you become incapacitated. You should both sign a power of attorney, and name as agent someone who you know agrees with your world view, right?
That is what Irwin and Xenia Miller, of Columbus, Indiana, did. In 1995 they signed mirror-image powers of attorney naming one another as agent. They both named one of their five children and a long-time financial adviser as co-agents to act if either could not act for the other. Then they went about living their lives.
To make their intentions clear, Irwin Miller wrote a letter to the couple’s children in 1996. “Of all the things we can ‘leave to you,’” he wrote, “money seems to us to be the least important.” He went on to tell the children that he and Xenia “have not lived and worked primarily to maximize your inheritance.” “We have worked and lived to make a constructive contribution to our community, church, and nation. And — we have lived our own lives the way we wanted to live them, and have had a good time so doing.”
For nearly a decade after signing their powers of attorney and writing to the children, Irwin Miller spent significant sums on maintaining several homes in Indiana and Ontario, Canada. In fact, the upkeep costs on three properties were in the millions of dollars during this time period. Irwin made those expenditures despite the fact that he and Xenia didn’t actually own one of the properties — it had been purchased by the son they named as agent in their power of attorney.
When Irwin Miller died in 2004, Xenia Miller was already incapacitated. The two agents in her 1995 power of attorney began to handle her finances, as she had planned. They faced a quandary: should they continue to pay significant sums to maintain properties even though the payments would not benefit Xenia Miller’s estate? Even though she might not be able to enjoy visiting two of the properties any more? Even though the expenditures might actually benefit one of the agents?
Xenia Miller died in 2008. During the four years between Irwin’s and Xenia’s death, the agents under the power of attorney spent over $20 million on keeping the properties going, making improvements and (in the case of the family home) arranging to interest the Indianapolis Museum of Art in moving into the property. Concerned that the expenditures might be challenged, they ultimately filed a petition with the local probate court seeking approval of their expenditures.
One of Irwin and Xenia’s children objected, and a four-day hearing was held on the accounting filed by the agents. Among his allegations: because the agents were acting under a power of attorney, their behavior created a presumption of undue influence requiring that the payments be set aside. The probate judge listened to testimony and arguments from both sides and then approved all the transactions. The judge also ordered the objecting son to pay the legal fees incurred by the agents.
The Indiana Court of Appeals reviewed the holding and agreed that “Xenia and Irwin Miller were extraordinary individuals who did everything in their power to enrich their community, support their family, and better society as a whole.” The appellate judges upheld the probate court approval of the expenditures; they did, however, rule that the contest was not frivolous and so reversed the award of attorneys fees. In Re General Power of Attorney of Miller, September 30, 2010.
The Millers left an extraordinary legacy — on many levels. They provided for their five children. They enriched their community. They created a lasting memory of a wealthy and public-spirited family. Though they probably did not intend to leave a legal precedent that could guide others, they did. By writing what amounted to an “ethical will,” setting out not just financial inheritances but also principles he lived by and hoped would guide his children, Irwin Miller gave us another legacy: he taught us that a power of attorney can be used to carry out the intentions of the signer, even if his purposes are not solely financial.
The Court of Appeals opinion is worth reading, if only for the language of Irwin Miller’s letter to his children. For more on the extraordinary Millers, consider the Christie’s auction notice describing sale of their collection and their impact on the architecture and art communities. Xenia Miller was an extraordinary individual in her own right, with business, art, religious and civil rights credentials that earned her recognition and acclaim.
Contrary to public perceptions, will contests are actually rare. In fact, few wills are written in such a way that anyone would benefit from a contest — most wills leave property to the same people who would inherit if there was no will. When there is a will contest, however, the two most common grounds are allegations of (1) lack of testamentary capacity, or (2) undue influence exerted by someone. A recent Texas case highlights the differences between those two allegations.
Evelyn Marie Reno died at age 81. She had been married twice, and left three children from her first marriage and one daughter from the second. The youngest child, Jan LeGrand, did not get along well with her half-siblings. Relationships between Ms. Reno and the three children from her first marriage were also strained — at least partially because two of them had initiated a guardianship proceeding (which was later dismissed) against their mother.
Ms. Reno spent the last year of her life in a nursing home. Ms. LeGrand visited her regularly, paid all her bills, and kept her location a secret from her half-siblings. At some point in the year before she died, Ms. Reno asked her daughter to help her prepare a new will disinheriting her other three children and leaving her entire estate to Ms. LeGrand.
The will was prepared (by Ms. LeGrand), and signed in Ms. Reno’s nursing home room. The witnesses were a hospice worker and chaplain, and the notary public was a nursing home employee. Ms. LeGrand was asked to leave the room while the three non-family members discussed the will and watched her sign it.
After Ms. Reno’s death the will was filed with the probate court by Ms. LeGrand. The three half-siblings proposed an earlier will, which left most of the estate to the four children equally.
The Probate Court ruled that Ms. Reno lacked testamentary capacity at the time the last will was signed, and that she was subjected to undue influence by her daughter. The earlier will (and a codicil) were instead admitted to probate.
The Texas Court of Appeals analyzed the findings of the Probate Court, and modified the basis for its findings — while not changing the result. The evidence, according to the appellate court, showed that Ms. Reno DID have testamentary capacity. Though she was often confused, the two witnesses and the notary agreed that the will was signed on a good day. Evidence of confusion and occasional disorientation on days before and after the will signing was not enough to overcome the testimony that she knew what she was signing, who her children were and what she intended to do at the time she signed the will.
The appeals judges agreed with the Probate Court, however, on the subject of undue influence. A key part of the evidence considered by the Court of Appeals: the fact that the will was actually prepared by Ms. LeGrand. As the Court wrote: “the fact that LeGrand personally prepared teh will without the intervention of an atotrney or other third party is significant.”
Also important to the court’s analysis: Ms. LeGrand had sole access to Ms. Reno for more than a year (during which time their mother’s whereabouts were not shared with the other three children). During that time, noted the Court of Appeals, Ms. Reno was completely dependent on Ms. LeGrand for bill-paying, care management and personal contact.
A more subtle distinction is drawn by the appellate judges with regard to Ms. Reno’s declining mental status. Though her condition at the moment of signing the will did not support the allegations of lack of testamentary capacity, her growing confusion and periodic mental weakness made her susceptible to undue influence.
Finally, the Court of Appeals notes that the will prepared by Ms. LeGrand for her mother was a complete shift from her prior wills. In each of those she made specific bequests to her four children and thirteen grandchildren, plus hospitals, her church and her pastor. The last will, however, left everything to one daughter — and this significant change in her dispositive plan was yet another indication of undue influence.
Though family members often confuse the concepts of testamentary capacity and undue influence, the legal analysis of the two different approaches to will contests is well-developed. It is also important to note that not every attempt to talk someone into making a new will is automatically subject to challenge. As the Reno court opined, in somewhat dry legalistic language: “One may request, importune, or entreat another to create a favorable dispositive instrument, but unless th eimportunities or entreaties are shown to be so excessive as to subver the will of the maker, they will not taint the validity of the instrument.”
The difference between “lack of testamentary capacity” and “undue influence” is legalistic, to be sure, but it is more than just academic. Interestingly, the Texas Court of Appeals noted that there is a difference in the burden of proof borne by the parties in the two different kinds of cases. In a case alleging lack of testamentary capacity the proponent of the will has the burden of proving that the testator understood what she was doing. In an allegation of undue influence, the challenger carries the burden of proof.
That means that each side in Ms. Reno’s case met their burden of proof. That is, Ms. LeGrand showed that her mother understood what she was doing, but the other three children demonstrated that Ms. LeGrand unduly influenced their mother. Estate of Reno, December 18, 2009.
Preparation of an estate plan is more than the individual documents. A good attorney considers the client’s circumstances and wishes, and analyzes the best course of action. The process requires the attorney and the client to communicate, and to work together.
Too often, however, problems arise after the attorney’s work is done. Clients are often pulled in different directions by family members, bankers, accountants, and other professionals. Television, radio, newspaper and magazine presentations aimed at mass audiences may confuse or mislead the client. Even if the client resists all of those voices, documents may get lost or inadvertently destroyed. What is a conscientious estate planner to do?
Many lawyers routinely hold on to original documents prepared for their clients. The best argument for doing so: it helps prevent accidental destruction or loss of the documents, and makes it harder for clients to make inadvertent changes.
Other lawyers do not like the practice. It takes considerable resources to manage a large collection of original documents. Holding on to originals also conveys the (false) impression that the children or other successors must return to the same lawyer later for administration of the estate.
A small minority of lawyers regularly prepare multiple originals of wills, trusts and powers of attorney. If one original document is in the lawyer’s office, at least it will not be misplaced by the client. This approach also helps reduce the concern that family must return to the same lawyer, since originals in the client’s possession can be used without the lawyer even knowing about the disability or death of the client.
Neither of these techniques does much to protect against the client becoming subject to undue — or unwise — influence. The scenario is common enough to be clichéd: the carefully considered estate plan prepared while the client is clearly competent is changed at the behest of a grasping relative or friend without the original lawyer ever being consulted or even advised.
One Illinois lawyer came up with an unusual way to protect against inadvertent or misguided changes to his clients’ estate plan. Attorney Lawrence Patterson included a provision in at least one married couple’s documents. It prohibited revocation or amendment of the estate plan without the attorney’s written consent.
Was Mr. Patterson’s approach effective? That depends entirely on how one defines “effective.” He has now been sued by his former clients AND is the subject of a pending ethics complaint through the Illinois Bar. Did he “overreach,” or was his concern for clients “admirable?”
We offer those two terms advisedly. They appear in two of the available documents responding to Mr. Patterson’s approach. Here is what has happened in the public record so far:
First, Mr. Patterson’s clients visited a new lawyer to modify their estate plan. The new lawyer wrote to Mr. Patterson, asking him to acknowledge that the clients had the right and power to do that. Mr. Patterson wrote back, telling the new lawyer that he would first need to meet with the clients to “determine whether the changes are consistent with the interests and protections embodied in the original plan.”
Rather than meet with Mr. Patterson, his clients filed a lawsuit seeking a declaration that Mr. Patterson could not control whether they amended their estate plan. The trial judge agreed, dismissing Mr. Patterson’s objections summarily and assessing legal fees and costs of $5,393.75 against him. Mr. Patterson appealed both determinations to the Illinois Court of Appeals.
Meanwhile someone (it may have been the clients, the opposing lawyer or even the judge in the trial case) notified the Illinois Attorney Registration and Disciplinary Commission of Mr. Patterson’s refusal to consent to the changes without first meeting with his (now) former clients. The Commission (which regulates lawyers practicing in Illinois) filed a two-count complaint against Mr. Patterson for what it saw as “overreaching.”
Interestingly, the first count in the ethics complaint dealt with an entirely unrelated matter, in which Mr. Patterson brought a guardianship petition against a client when she disagreed with his advice in a contested probate matter–a practice we have previously written about in another unrelated case out of Washington State. The ethics complaint against Mr. Patterson is still pending.
Then the Illinois Court of Appeals ruled on the lawsuit against Mr. Patterson. Its analysis indicated that his clients had given Mr. Patterson a fiduciary role over and above his standing as their attorney. They had made an irrevocable decision, according to the appellate court, to give him the power to oversee their estate planning changes in the future. Even though they subsequently fired him as their attorney, he remained as the arbiter of their future estate planning changes.
Far from criticizing him for his role, the Court of Appeals found his conduct to be “admirable, and consistent with the highest ideals of the bar.” The appellate court noted that the documents prepared by Mr. Patterson gave his clients the power to seek court approval of any change if they did not want to deal with him, and that his power was tempered by a duty to act as a fiduciary for his clients. “In light of the obvious expense to Patterson,” noted the appellate court with understatement, “we will leave it to other estate planners whether they wish to use this particular method of estate planning.” Dunn v. Patterson, November 18, 2009.
Note: we owe a considerable debt to the research work on Mr. Patterson carried out by Illinois estate planning attorney Joel Schoenmeyer. His excellent, entertaining and informative blog “Death and Taxes” has tackled the Patterson case, as well.
A Florida court found Alvarado Kelly incompetent in 1960, and appointed a guardian to manage his property. Fifteen years later Mr. Kelly moved to a facility in Mississippi operated by Sarah Cuevas; he lived in that facility until his death twenty five years later. After his death Mr. Kelly’s brother William and Ms. Cuevas became embroiled in a legal dispute involving the courts of both states.
Mr. Kelly had signed a will while he lived in Mississippi, and he had named Ms. Cuevas as executrix (what we in Arizona would call “personal representative”). Shortly after his death Ms. Cuevas filed the will for probate with the Mississippi courts, gave notice to William Kelly as the next of kin, and secured a court order appointing her as executrix and finding the will to be Mr. Kelly’s valid will.
William Kelly then filed a proceeding in the Florida courts. He acknowledged that there had been a finding in Mississippi, but he argued that it was invalid both because he had not actually participated and because his brother had never been a resident of Mississippi.
William Kelly argued that since his brother had been adjudged incompetent and the Florida courts had never given specific permission for him to relocate to Mississippi, he remained a resident of Florida for the rest of his life. He also insisted that the will was invalid because Ms. Cuevas had exercised undue influence.
Ms. Cuevas filed a motion to dismiss the Florida probate, but the Florida court agreed with William Kelly that her appointment by the Mississippi court was invalid. A Florida bank was appointed as personal representative of Mr. Kelly’s estate and authorized to collect his assets.
The Florida Court of Appeals reversed the probate court’s decision, however. In doing so, it relied partly on the U.S. Constitution, which requires the courts of each state to give “full faith and credit” to the courts of sister states in most situations.
In this case, ruled the appellate court, Ms. Cuevas had given William Kelly notice of the pending Mississippi proceedings, and an opportunity to file pleadings and present his argument that any proceedings should be in Florida. When the Mississippi court admitted Mr. Kelly’s will to probate it made a determination that he was domiciled in Mississippi; if William Kelly disagreed with that conclusion he needed to make his argument in Mississippi, rather than just filing his own proceeding in Florida. Cuevas v. Kelly, March 26, 2004.
Mr. Kelly’s probate proceedings provide an interesting illustration of the “full faith and credit” clause of the Constitution, and of its application to probate proceedings. It also demonstrates that it is unwise to ignore the proceedings in another state, hoping to later file a competing action in a more friendly jurisdiction.
December, 2005, update: In a related case in the Mississippi courts, that state’s Court of Appeals ruled that probate proceedings were proper in Mississippi. William Kelly, the decedent’s brother, had argued in the Mississippi proceedings that there was no jurisdiction for a probate there, since (he insisted) all of Alvarado Kelly’s assets necessarily belonged in Florida where he had resided when he had last been competent to select a residence. The Mississippi chancery court (where probate proceedings are tried) had ruled that it would be “impossible” to imagine that Alvarado Kelly had lived in Mississippi for thirty years without accumulating clothing or other personal items. His death in Mississippi, coupled with the existence of any assets at all, gave Mississippi courts jurisdiction over his estate, and the Court of Appeals agrees that those probate proceedings were properly initiated. In the Matter of Estate of Kelly, December 6, 2005.
Edmond and Elma Crittell befriended Violet Houssien and, according to Ms. Houssien’s family, set about getting the older woman to write a new will. Some of the evidence in the later will contest proceeding indicated that they may have even forged her signature on the will and, in a bizarre twist, burglarized the office of the notary public in an attempt to hide their fraud. Even if Ms. Houssien actually did sign the will, the Alaska courts later ruled that she had lacked capacity to do so, and that the Crittells exercised undue influence over her.
After Ms. Houssien’s death the Crittells sought to have the will they had prepared admitted to probate. Not surprisingly, it would have left the bulk of her $1.59 million estate to Elma Crittell. Also unsurprising was the objection lodged by family members.
After a two-week trial to the court, the will was found to be a forgery and the Crittells to have exercised undue influence over Ms. Houssien. The court also ordered the Crittells to pay the attorney’s fees and costs for the family members.
On its first trip to the Alaska Supreme Court, the case resulted in a mixed holding. The trial court’s findings about the will’s invalidity were upheld, but the award of attorney’s fees was set aside and remanded. The state high court ruled that there is no automatic right under state law for a successful will contestant to recover attorney’s fees, though it did not rule out the possibility that fees could be awarded for “vexatious or bad faith conduct.”
After the appeal was completed the trial judge reconsidered his earlier award of attorney’s fees. Finding that the Crittells had acted vexatiously and in bad faith, he ordered that they pay fees totaling $338,668.35. The Crittells again appealed to the Alaska Supreme Court.
In its second review of the case, the state high court reviewed the history of the litigation and the positions of the parties before and during the trial. The justices found that there was considerable evidence that the Crittells had acted in bad faith, and that it was proper for the trial judge to consider their fraudulent acts.
The Crittells argued that the effect of the court’s ruling was to impose punitive damages against them, and that there is no provision for such awards in probate cases. The high court disagreed with this argument, as well, though it expressed concern about the imposition of “financially ruinous” fee awards. However, if litigants proceed in bad faith, the entire cost of opposing counsel can be charged against them. Crittell v. Bingo, January 2, 2004.
Adelaide Briskman was 82 when she died in Florida. She left property in that state and in Pennsylvania, and a will that she had signed just five months before her death. She also left a controversy between her family and the beneficiary she had named in her will.
In the last months of her life Ms. Briskman had transferred most of her property to Mark Resop, the branch manager of her bank. The assets were mostly placed in joint tenancy, including over $2,000,000 in an investment account and her Florida condominium. Mr. Resop promptly began to spend the money she transferred into joint tenancy, and he sold her condominium shortly after her death.
The only significant asset not transferred into Mr. Resop’s name before Ms. Briskman’s death was a commercial property in Pennsylvania which housed a branch of Mellon Bank. Mr. Resop petitioned the Pennsylvania courts for admission of the will naming him as beneficiary, and he was appointed as executor. A year later Ms. Briskman’s niece, Julie K. Palley, filed a challenge to that will, alleging that Ms. Briskman was incompetent when she signed the will, or in the alternative that Mr. Resop had exerted undue influence to get her to sign the instrument.
If Ms. Palley was successful in challenging her aunt’s will, an earlier will would have become the “last” will of Ms. Briskman. That earlier document named her lawyer at the time, one Richard Rosin, as executor, and it would have left her estate to various charitable causes.
The Pennsylvania probate court ruled in favor of Ms. Palley, finding the will to be invalid. Mr. Resop appealed to Pennsylvania’s intermediate appellate court. That court saw the case differently.
In the opinion of the appellate court, Ms. Briskman’s niece simply had no standing to contest her aunt’s will. If she had been successful, the court pointed out, she would not have been named as executor—that role would have fallen to Ms. Briskman’s lawyer. She also would not have received any portion of her aunt’s estate, since it would all go to charity. If she had nothing to gain by her challenge, said the appellate court, she had no business filing it, and the court ordered that it be dismissed and Mr. Resop reinstated as executor. Estate of Briskman, September 9, 2002.
Although the circumstances of Mr. Resop’s acquisition of Ms. Briskman’s property may appear suspicious, there is good news in the appellate court decision. Laypersons often express concern about someone challenging their wills, and anxiety about will contests is a common theme in estate planning. In fact, only someone who stands to gain from such a contest is even permitted to object to probate of a will; that is one of the reasons that will contests are relatively rare.
Despite the popular notion that it is easy to attack a decedent’s estate plan, successful challenges are actually quite rare. It is seldom possible to mount a challenge just because the decedent’s plan seems unfair, or because the decedent “always wanted” some other distribution. In fact those who challenge estate plans sometimes do so at their own peril.
When Nannie Mae Ross died in Mississippi in 1998, she left three certificates of deposit at a local bank. All three CDs named her son Tony Ross as joint tenant with right of survivorship, so that all her assets transferred to him automatically on her death. The CDs totaled a little less than $100,000 in value.
Mr. Ross was not his mother’s only child. His sister Maxine Morris had died in December, 1997. Ms. Ross had lived with her daughter until the daughter’s death. During the thirty years that mother and daughter lived together, Ms. Ross had named Maxine Morris’ as joint tenant on some or all of the Certificates of Deposit she owned. After her daughter’s death Tony Ross moved in with and helped take care of Ms. Ross, and within a few weeks of his arrival she had made the changes in her bank accounts.
After Ms. Ross’ death Maxine’s son Rodney Foster challenged the joint tenancy accounts. His basic argument: those accounts were originally supposed to go to his mother and the most likely explanation for the change must be that Mr. Ross unduly influenced Ms. Ross to place the accounts in joint tenancy.
Mr. Foster pointed to a well-established legal principle that could have shifted the burden onto his uncle to show that he had not unduly influenced Ms. Ross. If Tony Ross was acting for his mother, including helping her out with her finances, he might have been found to be in a “confidential relationship” with her, and any change in her estate plan would have created a presumption of undue influence. The problem with that argument was simple: both Tony Ross and Rodney Foster testified that Ms. Ross was “fiercely independent” and strong-willed.
After Mr. Foster put on his case the trial judge dismissed his claim. He also charged Mr. Foster $5,086.02 in attorney’s fees to be paid to Mr. Ross for what the judge decided was a frivolous lawsuit. And, just to make the point clear, the judge ordered Mr. Foster’s attorney, Danny Lowrey, to pay the opposing attorney’s fees if Mr. Foster couldn’t do it himself.
Both Mr. Foster and his attorney appealed. The Mississippi Supreme Court, however, agreed with the trial judge. There was no substantial justification for the lawsuit, ruled the Court, and Mr. Foster should have known that before he pursued the litigation. In fact, said the state’s high court justices, any reasonable attorney would have seen that there was no claim to be made and refused to bring the action. Challenging a decedent’s estate plan can be not only difficult, but costly—including the costs incurred by the heirs or distributees. Foster v. Ross, January 10, 2002.
Alaskan Lillie M. Rahm was in her early nineties when she first met handyman Robert Riddell, then in his mid-sixties. Their friendship grew quickly, and Mr. Riddell moved in with Ms. Rahm within a few months. Two years later friends and relatives instituted legal proceedings that lasted well past Ms. Rahm’s death.
When Ms. Rahm revoked a power of attorney naming her daughter as agent and transferred some of her money into a joint bank account with Mr. Riddell, her daughter began to ask questions about her mother’s finances. Ms. Rahm seemed to be confused and Mr. Riddell refused to allow her access to any information, so Ms. Rahm’s daughter filed a conservatorship petition. Four days later Mr. Riddell and Ms. Rahm were married.
That did not stop the legal proceedings, however. After a hearing the public guardian was appointed as Ms. Rahm-Riddell’s conservator. Shortly after that a domestic violence complaint was filed, alleging that Mr. Riddell physically attacked and verbally abused his wife. The public guardian moved her to an assisted living home in Washington; Mr. Riddell found her, removed her from the facility and took her to Oregon to live with him. He refused to reveal her whereabouts despite court orders; Ms. Rahm-Riddell died in Oregon in 1997.
It turned out that Ms. Rahm-Riddell had signed two wills after meeting Mr. Riddell. The first, signed shortly after their meeting, left her home, its contents and one-fourth of the rest of her estate to Mr. Riddell. The second, signed in Oregon just a few months before her death, left her entire estate to Mr. Riddell.
Ms. Rahm-Riddell’s family asked the Alaska courts to admit an earlier will to probate and Mr. Riddell objected. He insisted that the last will she signed was valid, and he demanded a jury trial as to her competence to make the will. Her daughter and brother argued that she was not competent at the time, that Mr. Riddell had unduly influenced her, and that the matter should be tried without a jury.
The Alaska court refused to grant a jury trial and ultimately ruled that only the will signed before Mr. Riddell’s appearance on the scene was valid. Mr. Riddell appealed to the Alaska Supreme Court.
The general rule in Alaska (as it is in Arizona) is that civil matters are decided by the judge unless there is a specific statute or the common law (the rules predating statehood) authorizes a jury. Since will contests were unknown to the common law and no statute permits it, Mr. Riddell’s demand for a jury trial was properly denied. Furthermore, said the Court, the evidence was clear that Ms. Rahm-Riddell could not correctly identify the individual involved in her life at the time the will was executed. Mr. Riddell’s wills were struck down. Riddell v. Edwards, October 5, 2001.
“Undue influence” is usually thought of in connection with provisions in a will. It can also be cited in attempts to set aside transfers made during life, as a recent North Carolina case illustrates.
In early 1996 Irene J. Stephenson signed a deed conveying her home and sixteen acres of land to the Wake Forest Baptist Church. The deed reserved a “life estate” to Ms. Stephenson—that is, it allowed her to live on the property, rent it and use it as she wished for the rest of her life.
Shortly after she signed the deed, Ms. Stephenson moved to set it aside. She claimed that church members had brought the deed (and an attorney) to the nursing home for her to sign, and that no attempt had been made to involve her family, her attorney or the agent she had named in her durable power of attorney.
Ms. Stephenson had been eighty-seven years old when she signed, and had been living at a local nursing home for two years. Her mental health had allegedly begun to fail. In fact, Ms. Stephenson died before the case could be resolved, and it was continued by her probate estate.
After the complaint was filed, the Wake Forest Baptist Church moved for summary judgment, which was granted. Ms. Stephenson’s estate appealed.
The original complaint had not included a claim that church members unduly influenced Ms. Stephenson to sign the deed. The Court of Appeals directed that the case be returned for a decision on the possibility anyway, and it provided some guidance on what to look for when analyzing a transaction for undue influence. Among the factors the court found might tend to indicate undue influence in this or another transaction:
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“Old age” and mental weakness of the signer
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Change from prior disposition of the property
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Benefits flowing to a non-relative
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Involvement of the beneficiary in procuring the transfer
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Disinheritance of the “natural objects” of the signer’s bounty
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Constant association and supervision by the beneficiary, as when the signer lives with the beneficiary
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Lack of opportunity for others to visit the signer
In Ms. Stephenson’s case, said the court, there was at least some evidence on several of those elements.
Ms. Stephenson’s estate should be permitted to put on its case for undue influence, and so the case was remanded for further proceedings. Meanwhile, allegations of interference with a contract and unfair trade practices were dismissed. Stephenson v. Warren, March 7, 2000.
Arizona law is very similar to the North Carolina court’s holding. In a 1966 case the Arizona Supreme Court outlined eight factors tending to show undue influence, with much the same effect. One subtle (but important) difference: Arizona cases have expressly held since at least the mid-1940s that “advanced age” (by itself, at least) can not give rise to any presumption of undue influence.
