APRIL 2, 2012 VOLUME 19 NUMBER 13
We have been hearing lately about a scam that targets seniors. You get a telephone call from a number you don’t recognize. When you answer, the person on the other line says: “Grandma, it’s me, and I need your help.” You learn that your grandchild has been detained by the police in another country – Mexico, or maybe somewhere in the Caribbean. Something about an auto accident, perhaps, and unfamiliar laws in the foreign country. Your grandchild needs you to wire him or her money to pay for bail.
Significantly, the grandchild pleads with you not to notify his or her parents, because they’ll be angry. If you note that the grandchild’s voice sounds different, he or she will say that the police broke his or her nose during the course of the arrest. If you ask for a phone number, so you can call back, you’re told that this is an outgoing number at the police station and it’s not possible to call back. There’s no way to contact your grandchild again. You are instructed to go quickly to the bank, withdraw an amount that is usually slightly less than $5,000.00 (any more will attract the government’s attention) and arrange for a wire transfer.
If you have grandchildren you probably love them dearly. We suspect that if you got a call from a grandkid in trouble, you’d spring into action. Any questions you might have about the truthfulness of what you’re being told would be superseded by the stress and anxiety of learning that your grandchild was in serious trouble and needed your help urgently.
We know of several instances lately of our clients (or the parents or other family members of our clients) being targeted by this kind of scam. In one case, the grandmother was at Walmart attempting to wire funds when the store clerk alerted her that this was likely a scam and that she should call the grandchild, or his parent, before wiring any money. In another instance, the scam was discovered earlier in the process because the grandmother was known to her family by a nickname, and not as “Grandma.” She was immediately suspicious. But, worryingly, in that case, the person on the other end of the line identified herself using the actual name of a real granddaughter.
Of course it is despicable of scammers to play on a grandparent’s love for their grandchildren. Worse yet, they frighten and alarm their elderly victims. Please, if someone tries to spur you to action by playing on your fears, stop, take a deep breath, and apply a little skepticism before you proceed any further.
Other than health skepticism, what can you do to protect yourself? If this happens to you, ask your caller to recall a pet’s name, or a family vacation spot, or something that only your actual grandchild would know. Be cautious, however — the sophistication of scammers has increased as private details become widely available on the internet. In one case, for example, police reported that the caller knew that the victim they were calling had an identical twin, and even that the victim was two minutes younger than her sister.
What if this happens to a family member? If money has been wired, immediately contact the transfer company. If it has already been picked up it is too late, but even if the money is gone at least the authorities will have one more piece of data to stop future scams and maybe even locate your scammer. Contact the FBI or its Internet Crime Complaint Center to file a report. Unofficial agencies like the Better Business Bureau also track scam information and may be able to make other suggestions.
Worried that something like this might happen to a vulnerable senior in your family? Start by locking down their internet vulnerability — scammers often use e-mail malware to collect information about potential victims. Make sure your family member’s internet use is protected. Caution them about social media — trusting seniors might be inclined to share too much sensitive and personal information online.
Make sure your family member knows to contact you before succumbing to a scammer’s pleas for confidentiality. Maybe you even want to adopt a family code word to signal that any caller is truly a family member. Please don’t inject unnecessary fear into your family member’s life, but make sure they have sufficient skepticism and the comfort to contact you or another family member no matter what a scammer might tell them.
Want to familiarize yourself with the kinds of scams working across the internet and through your neighborhood? Check out the Better Business Bureau’s “Scam Aggregator.” It might amaze, alarm and inform you all at the same time.
MARCH 12, 2012 VOLUME 19 NUMBER 10
Georgia Griffin (not her real name) moved from Kansas to Arizona in 1997. She lived in her own townhome in Sun City West, a retirement community northwest of Phoenix, until 2001, when she moved in next door to her daughter Barbara, who lived in Scottsdale.
Georgia’s story was fairly typical: she had lived at home independently until, at age 90, her physical ailments made it difficult for her to get along without help. The move to be next to her daughter was occasioned by her daughter’s concern that she was at risk living alone. One particular concern: after Georgia fell in her home, she worried that if she were to fall again she might not be able to get up, even to summon help.
After Georgia’s initial move to Arizona, daughter Barbara helped her with her banking, filling out checks and making transfers and withdrawals. She was a joint tenant with her mother on some accounts; several were changed from joint tenancy to “payable on death” (POD) to Barbara at some point. Meanwhile, Georgia’s other daughter Elizabeth was less involved — though she also lived nearby.
Shortly before Georgia’s move to be next door to Barbara, Barbara had purchased six condominium units in the complex where she lived. In fact, Georgia’s move was into one of those units. Elizabeth would later argue that the money for those purchases came from their mother’s accounts.
After Georgia’s death in 2003, Elizabeth initiated a probate proceeding and was appointed as personal representative of Georgia’s estate. She then filed an action against Barbara, alleging that Barbara had taken advantage of Georgia while she was a “vulnerable adult” — an important term under Arizona’s law protecting seniors and those with disabilities.
After a five-day trial, she convinced the judge that Georgia was vulnerable, that Barbara had held a position of trust with their mother, and that she violated that trust by using Georgia’s money to purchase her condominium units. The judge entered a judgment for $179,518.51 against Barbara, and imposed a constructive trust on five of the condominium units (ordering that they could be sold to satisfy the judgment). The judge also ruled that Barbara had forfeited any right to inherit from her mother’s estate; the judge did not impose treble damages against Barbara, which was an option available at the time (the Arizona legislature has since reduced the maximum penalty to double the amount of the basic judgment, though that would not have made any difference in this case).
The Arizona Court of Appeals upheld the judgment. The key question raised by Barbara on appeal: how could the trial court have found Georgia was “vulnerable” when the evidence indicated she was fully competent? Can vulnerability be based solely on evidence of physical limitations?
The short answer: yes. The appellate judges ruled that vulnerability for purposes of Arizona’s exploitation statute can be predicated solely on physical impairments if, as a result of the impairments, the victim is unable to protect herself from the exploiter. Mental impairment is not necessarily required. In this case, according to the court, Georgia’s “diminished vision and hearing could also have made her more susceptible to exploitation, as they could make her less aware of her surroundings and the circumstances of any transactions in which she became involved, thereby making her less able to protect herself if targeted for exploitation.”
That is not to say that every transaction Georgia might enter into would be suspect. “A vulnerable adult may still have the capacity to transfer property,” according to the judges. In fact, Georgia had transferred her original townhome to Elizabeth and the family home in Kansas to Barbara; those transfers did not necessarily amount to exploitation.
There is a second interesting holding in the appellate decision, though it is perhaps less far-reaching in its scope. After the trial was over, and while one of Barbara’s sons was packing up his belongings to move out of the condominium he lived in (and which would now be sold), he said he discovered old letters written by Georgia. Those letters related how Georgia was helping Barbara and her husband purchase several condominiums so that they would have income when they retired. Barbara moved to reopen the trial to introduce those letters, but the trial judge refused.
That refusal was not error, according to the Court of Appeals. There was insufficient evidence that the letters could have been found by diligent search before the trial. More importantly, the letters would not likely have changed the outcome. Why not? Because Barbara’s (and her husband’s) defense throughout the trial had been not that Georgia permitted the use of her money but that none of her money was involved in purchasing the condominiums. The letters would therefore have run counter to their core argument. In re Estate of Gorsik, April 12, 2012.
There are several footnotes worth mentioning in discussion of the appeal in Georgia’s case. First, the decision is a “Memorandum Decision.” That means that, though the appellate court laid out its reasoning and legal arguments, the decision is not “published” and therefore can not (at least not usually) be cited as precedent in other, similar cases. It is in the nature of lawyers and judges to make and keep records, so one irony about unpublished (memorandum) decisions is that they are published, can be read by anyone who wants to take the time to look for them, and are often cited as at least some evidence of the inclinations of appellate courts.
Another small irony: even as Georgia’s case was working its way through the courts, the Arizona legislature has been busy weakening the protections afforded to victims of abuse, neglect and exploitation. First, as noted above, was the reduction of “treble damages” awards to “double damages.” That, as it turned out, had no direct effect on Georgia’s case, since the trial judge decided that extra damages should not be awarded — but it does make such cases less attractive to lawyers with experience in exploitation cases, and it reduces the likelihood that any given case will be initiated in the future. Since then, the legislature has continued to push at the margins of abuse, neglect and exploitation cases; there is a bill pending even now that would eliminate the availability of an award of attorneys fees to the successful party in cases involving vulnerable adults.
Why would the legislature want to eliminate protections for vulnerable adult victims? Probably because some abuse, neglect and exploitation cases are filed against nursing homes, long-term care homes and medical providers, and they tend to have legislators’ attention. Vulnerable adults, by contrast, have a very poor lobbying record.
SEPTEMBER 6, 2010 VOLUME 17 NUMBER 28
The question addressed in a ruling last month by the Arizona Court of Appeals seems provocative. In a lawsuit based on the Arizona law prohibiting abuse, neglect or exploitation of vulnerable adults, does the very life of the abused senior have any intrinsic value? The Court’s answer: perhaps, but the lawsuit can not recover damages for the loss of that life.
Mary Winn died about a month after being admitted to Plaza Healthcare, a Scottsdale, Arizona, nursing home, in 1999. Four years later her husband George Winn filed a lawsuit against Plaza, alleging that it had violated Mrs. Winn’s rights under Arizona’s Adult Protective Services Act. Under the APSA, a vulnerable adult who has been abused, neglected or exploited may recover damages suffered as a result of that abuse, neglect or exploitation. Mr. Winn argued (on behalf of his wife’s estate) that he should be able to recover on behalf of his late wife, and that she would have been entitled to actual damages for the loss of her life, as well as punitive damages.
Not so, argued the nursing home. Mrs. Winn obviously could never have collected damages for her own death, and her estate’s recovery was limited to what she could have recovered. In fact, the estate’s possible recovery was less than her damages, since any claim for pain and suffering she experienced at the end of her life ended with her death. With no actual damages to recover, her estate could not seek punitive damages.
Mrs. Winn’s estate argued that her life had some “intrinsic” value, and that it should be recoverable. The estate conceded that she was elderly and ill when she arrived at Plaza Healthcare, and that she could not be expected to earn a salary given her age and condition. But, insisted the estate’s lawyers, a human life has some inherent value.
The trial court agreed with the nursing home, and limited the estate’s proof to just actual damages. After an informal arbitration proceeding (the estate conceded that the remaining damages were less than $50,000, and therefore subject to mandatory arbitration rules) a judgment against was entered in favor of Plaza Healthcare.
The Arizona Court of Appeals reviewed the trial court’s ruling and agreed. There is no cause of action under the vulnerable adults statute, ruled the appellate judges, for the “intrinsic or inherent value” of a deceased claimant’s life. Mrs. Winn’s estate — and her husband — recovers nothing from Plaza Healthcare. Estate of Winn v. Plaza Healthcare, Inc., August 10, 2010.
To be fair, the appellate court did not rule that there is no value to the life of an elderly, disabled and vulnerable senior. All the ruling says is that there is no right to recover under the Arizona Adult Protective Services Act for the loss of life itself.
Does that mean that Mr. Winn had no claim for his wife’s alleged mistreatment? Not necessarily — he might have been able to file his lawsuit on his own behalf if he had acted more quickly. By the time he filed it had been more than four years since his wife’s death — too late for any wrongful death action but not too late for a viable lawsuit under the Adult Protective Services Act, which had a much longer statute of limitations.
There is another interesting footnote to the Winn case. Last month’s decision from the Court of Appeals is not the first time Mrs. Winn and her estate have been before Arizona appellate judges. In fact, her case had been appealed twice before — once in 2006/2007, and again a year later. The first trip through the appellate system involved the trial judge’s dismissal — ultimately reversed by the Arizona Supreme Court — on the basis that a probate proceeding filed more than two years after the decedent’s death did not permit filing of a lawsuit in the estate’s name. A year later the Court of Appeals dismissed an attempted appeal from the trial judge’s initial refusal to allow any recovery for the inherent value of Mrs. Winn’s life. That appeal had to wait for final resolution of the entire lawsuit, which was accomplished before the current (and probably final) appeal.
