The Crown of Life Society: a novel

By William Henry, Jr

Golden years? Career criminals and one-time opportunists are scheming to strip that gold from elderly people...Darryl, the greaser who worms his way into the heart and home of the frail Esther, hell-bent to drain her bank account...Harry, the charmer who checks the obituaries and puts widows like Estelle on a schedule for exploitation that includes seizing their homes...Rusinski and Rugerio, criminal doctors who use elders – and routinely put lives at risk – to manipulate a hopelessly inept Medicare and Medicaid bureaucracy, and rake in the cash...Imelda, the “capper” who brings the crooked docs a vanload of elders every Friday, for bogus “sleep studies”...Rose, who can ruin a lonely retiree’s credit rating with a few outings to department stores...Denise, who gets to the much-older Charlie’s wallet through his zipper...to name just a few.

And at the top of this criminal world is the brilliant and ruthless Sherrelle. She emerged from prison to build the Crown of Life Society, in which she trains women – all using stolen identities -- to exploit elders and avoid detection. She will do anything (murder is an easy call), and use her sharp survival instincts, to make sure the enterprise that nets her over $200,000 a year continues to thrive.

Meanwhile, these elders’ adult children feel the stress every day, of trying to balance caregiving with their other responsibilities. Sibling differences, and the tension between too-busy lives and the “We really have to do something about Mom” imperative quickly blaze up. The “Caregiver Coping” chatroom provides some release for Boomers; they post about the problems they are struggling to handle – including some really nutty ones. You can laugh, because these things aren’t happening to you. Or maybe you will laugh because they are happening in your family, and you need your own release. You might shed a tear, too, when some of the elders in this book finally reach the end of their noble, exemplary lives.

In The Crown of Life Society, William R. Henry, Jr. and noted elder law attorney A. Frank Johns, Jr. turn fact into fiction for an appalling -- but hilarious and sometimes heartbreaking -- narrative that is as entertaining as it is informative and timely. It’s a loud alarm for anyone who is an elder, hopes to be one, or has elderly loved ones.

• Language: English
• Publisher: William Henry, Jr
• Release date: Jul 18, 2013
• ISBN: 9780989661805

William Henry, Jr

William R. Henry, Jr. William Henry has been a professional writer for more than 40 years. He has been a reporter for two daily newspapers in North Carolina, director of public affairs for a national construction-industry trade association based in Washington, DC, and has written numerous articles for consumer and trade publications. Currently he is executive director of an association that provides insurance and risk management services for volunteer-based nonprofit organizations. He became interested in issues involving exploitation of elders, and the dynamics of family caregiving, following an incident in his own family, which he wrote about for The Washington Post. This is his first novel. Henry lives in Leesburg, VA. A. Frank Johns, Jr., JD, LLM, CELA, CAP Frank Johns is a nationally recognized legal authority in Elder Law, Fiduciary Litigation, Elder Abuse, Guardianship, Disability Rights, Special Needs and Special Needs Trusts, and Legal Ethics. Mr. Johns, BS 1968 and JD 1971, Florida State University; and LLM – 2008, Stetson University College of Law, is a charter partner in Booth Harrington & Johns of NC PLLC, with offices in Charlotte and Greensboro, NC. He is past president of, and a fellow in, the National Academy of Elder Law Attorneys (NAELA) and past chair of NAELA’s Council of Advanced Practitioners; a fellow in the American College of Trust and Estate Counsel; charter chair of the North Carolina Bar Association Elder Law Section; and board member, Center For Medicare Advocacy (2008-2010). He is board-certified in Elder Law by the National Elder Law Foundation, and certified as a specialist in elder law by the North Carolina State Bar. He was a charter board member of the National Guardianship Association (1988). He co-chaired the 2001 Wingspan National Guardianship Conference; was a delegate, commissioned writer and steering committee member of the 2011 3rd National Guardianship Summit; and was a delegate and panelist at the 3rd World Congress on Adult Guardianship in Australia. Johns has litigated fiduciary, abuse, and disability cases throughout North Carolina, and in the state and federal courts, with numerous favorable decisions in the North Carolina appeals courts and the federal Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals. Many of these cases are the basis for The Crown of Life Society.

Book preview

The Crown of Life Society

A novel

William R. Henry, Jr.

A. Frank Johns, Jr.

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 by William R. Henry, Jr. and A. Frank Johns, Jr. All rights reserved.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

About The Crown of Life Society

Golden years? Career criminals and one-time opportunists are scheming to strip that gold from elderly people…Darryl, the greaser who worms his way into the heart and home of the frail Esther, hell-bent to drain her bank account…Harry, the charmer who checks the obituaries and puts widows like Estelle on a schedule for exploitation that includes seizing their homes...Rusinski and Rugerio, criminal doctors who use elders – and routinely put lives at risk – to manipulate a hopelessly inept Medicare and Medicaid bureaucracy, and rake in the cash…Imelda, the capper who brings the crooked docs a vanload of elders every Friday, for bogus sleep studies…Rose, who can ruin a lonely retiree’s credit rating with a few outings to department stores…Denise, who gets to the much-older Charlie’s wallet through his zipper…to name just a few.

And at the top of this criminal world is the brilliant and ruthless Sherrelle. She emerged from prison to build the Crown of Life Society, in which she trains women – all using stolen identities -- to exploit elders and avoid detection. She will do anything (murder is an easy call), and use her sharp survival instincts, to make sure the enterprise that nets her over $200,000 a year continues to thrive.

Meanwhile, these elders’ adult children feel the stress every day, of trying to balance caregiving with their other responsibilities. Sibling differences, and the tension between too-busy lives and the We really have to do something about Mom imperative quickly blaze up. The Caregiver Coping chatroom provides some release for Boomers; they post about the problems they are struggling to handle – including some really nutty ones. You can laugh, because these things aren’t happening to you. Or maybe you will laugh because they are happening in your family, and you need your own release. You might shed a tear, too, when some of the elders in this book finally reach the end of their noble, exemplary lives.

In The Crown of Life Society, William R. Henry, Jr. and noted elder law attorney A. Frank Johns, Jr. turn fact into fiction for an appalling -- but hilarious and sometimes heartbreaking -- narrative that is as entertaining as it is informative and timely. It’s a loud alarm for anyone who is an elder, hopes to be one, or has elderly loved ones.

Chapters

You want these jewels?

Of course we’re still going to Marco Island.

I’m very good at keeping secrets, as long as I have no reason to tell.

Do the hustle!

Darlene gets an exciting new project. Jackie repaints.

Young love

This administrative shit is getting old.

Bread and butter pickle

Your place or mine?

Mouse beards

The Woo-Man returns.

Just a cheap little plastic crown

Why the feather rises

I’m going to Mom’s, and probably won’t be back until she dies.

Triangulation is cool, but not like your fridge.

Naomi’s treasure

If Sherrelle’s going to track me, let her track me there.

Fune-a-real

About the authors

Acknowledgements

Teacher, organization and reading group guide

You want these jewels?

Of all the dreaded tasks, the ones that gave Sonja little nightmares just before her alarm went off on work days, this was the worst – interrupting Robert in the main conference room. This was to be avoided, if possible. But Jackie wasn’t willing to leave a message this time, so... Sonja knocked on the walnut double-door and leaned in. All the Finance Department staffers looked her way and smiled, except for Chief Financial Officer Robert James Worth, who stood and scowled.

Robert, Jackie is on five-one. She says it can’t wait. Sonja withdrew before Robert could ask questions she had no way to answer.

In his office, Robert picked up. Jackie?

Robert, there was a little fire in Mom’s kitchen today. She left a burner on by mistake, and put the mail down on it. She went into the den to write a letter, and then the smoke detectors went off. She saw what was happening and called 911, then me. The fire department came in just under 15 minutes and put the fire out. There’s enough smoke damage that we’ll have to paint the kitchen and dining room, but that’s it. Mom’s OK. A little scared, but OK.

Jackie had learned about 20 years earlier that conversations with her younger brother went better if she began with an executive summary.

She didn’t use the fire extinguisher?

No, Robert. Jackie also knew how to say her brother’s name in a withering way that closed whatever avenue of criticism he might have traveled. But give her points for calling 911 even before she called me. Robert, this is a problem.

Just get the painting done, Jackie, and tell me how much. I’ll send you a check. Or send it to whoever. I’m sorry Mom was shaken up, but right now I’ve got six people waiting for me in a meeting. OK?

Silence.

And I’ll call Mom tonight if you think it’ll help. Her phone wasn’t damaged or anything, was it?

Robert, work with me. Jackie had anticipated, and executive summary #2 was in her hand. She glanced at the notes. It’s true this was the first time she’s put herself in danger in this particular way. But Robert, there’s a pattern here that really concerns me.

Robert gripped the phone tighter, and squeezed both forearms hard against his forehead, as he did whenever his sister called with a concern about their mother.

Jackie continued. In the past six months, Mom has had two traffic accidents. I told you about them. First she drifted into the left lane and bumped somebody when she was getting ready to turn. Then six weeks later she almost got killed when she turned left at the same intersection. If the other driver hadn’t been watching, she would have been hit. Jackie choked on the last word, but rallied. And then I told you about the bill she forgot to pay. At least it was just DirecTV, not the electricity or the heat. Robert, I don’t believe Mom can continue to live by herself without any help except what I can do. Her notes were a little blurry through the tears, but she knew the gist: "We really need to sit down, take our time, and come up with a plan. A way to support Mom. I don’t know what it is that we need, but we have to find out, and I need you to help me make these decisions."

You think she needs to go to a nursing home? Is that what you’re saying?

Don’t put words in my mouth. All I’m saying right now is that she needs help. Mom needs help. We’ve had all the warning signs we need. So. When can you be here?

Seconds, then Robert said, I’ll tell you what. If you can just do a little initial research on the nursing homes…

No. There’s nothing more important for you right now, Robert. Is there a late flight tonight, or does it have to be tomorrow?...Robert?

Sonja leaned into the conference room again. Everybody, Robert had to leave, unexpectedly. Something came up with his mother, so he’s had to fly to Indiana. He asked me to tell you that, um, he’d like to continue this meeting Sunday at four.

The room sagged. Sonja smiled. Sorry. He said he would email a new agenda from the airport, with specifics for each of you. And look, if any of you needs me today, I can stay until seven. Or even tomorrow, it’s cool; I can come in for a while. Let me know. Sonja smiled all around, but the smile-backs were weak. She went back to her desk for the last hour of the workweek. No one asked her for anything, because no one knew what line of inquiry Robert might choose, about the Bangalore service center, and the upcoming audit of the contractor there. The only thing for certain was that they must be in position Sunday at four. Amanda’s seventh birthday party? Sorry, Gwen. The company box for the 49ers’ home opener? Too bad, Trey. Business casual dress is OK for the Sunday meeting, though, if that helps. Unless Robert changes his mind about that, too.

***

Hello. My name is Roy. I am an attorney specializing in elder law. Some might say was an attorney, in view of the fact that I am dead. But I am, because I enjoy the afterlife right now, and am as much an attorney as ever. And here’s the best part…in heaven, not only are we free from pain, lies, the IRS and voice mail. Free from the mortal coil, we also are omniscient. I can see everything! Know everything! Actually, I’m still learning my way around omniscience, because accepting the truth is hard sometimes. But I’m getting there. So for purposes of this narrative, I can guide you through what’s happening, and provide commentary that I trust will enlighten.

Are you wondering how I can be in bliss watching the messy earth? Let me assure you: Bliss for me is helping elders and those who love them deal with the struggles, the hard choices, and the risks they encounter – never mind if it’s messy. I did that in the flesh for 49 years, before my second heart attack killed me at my desk. Even on my best days I saw through the glass darkly, as Paul wrote. Now I see clearly, so good for you.

What’s going on now with Jackie, Robert, and their mom Naomi is happening more and more every day. The number of elders is growing; the population age 65 and older will double by 2030, to 71 million. An increasing number of them are losing their ability to live independently, because of physical and mental limitations. By that 2030 date, fifteen thousand more geriatric specialists will be needed, but medical schools are turning out only 300 a year. No wonder; geriatric specialists depend on Medicare, which reimburses at such low rates most doctors choose another specialty. There’s a shortage of nurses and other medical professionals, too. The shortage of nurses is particularly acute in nursing homes, where the pay is low, turnover high, and working conditions dystopian.

Families often are distant and busy, like Naomi’s, and the need to care for elders really stresses those adult children, and their own spouses and children. You’ve seen just a bit of it in the brief Friday afternoon phone conversation between Jackie and Robert.

Isolation and frailty create problems of personal safety, health, and emotional well-being. These problems often grow undetected, until there is a crisis.

At the same time, there are trillions of dollars of wealth at stake. For the most part, elders want to pass their wealth along to their loved ones, but there are career criminals and one-time opportunists who want a piece of it, too. Sometimes relatives scheme to get more than they should. Predators succeed every day, when elders are susceptible to their influence, and loving but busy family members don’t realize what’s going on. There are laws aimed at protecting elders against financial exploitation. But much of the exploiting goes on in private homes, and victims often are reluctant to report. Laws are vaguely worded (e.g., exploitation that is obvious to a reasonable person), because protecting elders without getting paternalistic about it is a high-wire act. Congress passed the Elder Justice Act in 2010, which looks good in their constituent newsletters, but they neglected to fund it. Plus, the problem isn’t a high priority for law enforcement or financial institutions. The result can be devastating for elders themselves, and for their families. As of now, the annual loss is at least three billion dollars, says the MetLife Mature Market Institute.

And so the Greatest Generation, as Brokaw aptly dubbed it, has become vulnerable. There is plenty of risk to worry anyone who is an elder, has them in the family, or hopes to become one.

My circumstance here, and for all eternity as far as I know, is to watch this stuff every day, and do what I can to help. It’s true, what Rick Warren says: what you do on earth prepares you for eternity. Observing people at risk isn’t pretty, so yes, there is suffering in heaven. Not that I’m complaining, considering the alternative location.

We will follow Naomi’s crisis, and some large and small crises other families are facing, seeing the risks that go along with aging, and what can happen if they aren’t handled well. With my experience on earth, and the benefit of my semi-omniscience in the afterlife, I will be your guide and commentator. When you see comments in italics, that will be me.

All right; some background on what you’ve seen so far... Robert is 58, the chief financial officer in a computer network-integration company in Palo Alto, working 70-hour weeks. He has one son, two daughters, and a strained marriage. His wife Bev secretly is planning to divorce him.

As for Jackie, she is 60, divorced with two sons – Jack, 29; and Jay, her surprise baby, 20. The ex, Mark, has a new girlfriend who’s 15 years younger. Jackie’s an exposition manager for a trade association; travels constantly from trade show to trade show. She still lives near Naomi in the city where she grew up -- Mecklenburg, Indiana -- and tries to see her mom at least once a week. It’s hard, because of the travel. But she calls her every couple of days. (If I called every day and then missed one, she would wonder what’s wrong, she has told her friends – the few with whom she shares anything personal.)

Jackie formerly was a Xerox sales rep; took severance in the big downsizing of 1994, but still was far short of financial security. She worries about Naomi, and about one son, Jack. He’s never achieved like Jay, the younger one. Jackie would like to meet a man, but there aren’t many close to her age who would qualify. (The company reps she sees regularly at the trade shows are a sobering reminder that being alone isn’t all bad.) Now with Naomi’s situation, it looks as though Jackie will be too busy for a man, anyway.

Naomi, 83, has been living alone since her husband James died after a stroke four years ago. James always wrote the checks and watched the investments, and could repair a hot water heater, garage door opener, and many other things. Naomi learned to write checks and watch the money, and found good plumbers and electricians through referrals by friends. But she could not pick up her husband’s end of a sixty-year conversation, and could not make up for the way he cupped her chin just before he kissed her. She missed the little tricks he played on her – like feigning dismay and pretending he had forgotten to get the things she asked him to buy at the store -- even though she knew those tricks well enough to see them coming. They both laughed so much. Without James, time has been ten times longer. Naomi has lived what seems like 40 years, in only four.

There’s a third sibling, too:

Joanne is 53. She is the brightest of Naomi’s three bright children, even though the most she has made in a year is $32,718, compared to Robert’s $315,000 salary and $90,000 bonus, and Jackie’s $87,500. Joanne did very well in school, managing to get a BS in biology with a 3.92 average, even while providing sole support of an unplanned, out-of-wedlock child. (She refused to marry the father, a poet and sculptor of scant ability and ambition.) Her professional life, like her personal one, has meandered. At one point she trained to become a music therapist, using the Orf method, but hasn’t done much with that career. As her forties peeled off, she became panicky about drifting through middle age, from one brief interest to the next, with no real direction or purpose. She struggles to control her drinking. Her weak husband Walt (her third) has been happy enough to drift, and drink, with her. They live in Indianola, Iowa, a nine-hour drive from Naomi, and Joanne hasn’t seen her mother since Thanksgiving three years ago. (Her first Thanksgiving without Dad. I’d better go, she’d told Walt.)

There’s something else I need to disclose, too, about Joanne. She bears the burden of a family tragedy. In 1974, she got her cousin Zach into trouble. Zach was 23 then, a Vietnam vet who’d bought a house and was engaged to a local girl named Darlene. Joanne, 16 at the time, invited some friends – all underage -- to a party at Zach’s house. They were drinking, and one of them was killed behind the wheel that night. The boy’s parents brought a wrongful death suit against Zach, for negligently allowing underage drinking at the party, and won a big judgment. It was an unusual case at the time. Even the Chicago papers and TV stations covered it. For Zach, it meant that part of each paycheck went to bereaved parents who would not speak to him. Consumed by guilt, and seeing no way out of the financial mess, he jumped off a high river bridge. Robert, who had been close to Zach growing up, never forgave his sister.

Joanne’s daughter Polychrome is 32 now, and trying to find direction, too. She has a seven-year-old, Bekka, and has never married. Poly and Bekka live in Ames, near Iowa State University, from which Poly, like her mother, graduated Phi Beta Kappa with a degree in biology.

Oh, the name Polychrome? Yes. Being omniscient means you never have to Google anything. Polychrome was a fairy, and daughter of the rainbow in the Oz books. It appealed to Joanne, at age 21 and in her third trimester.

Let’s leave Naomi’s family for now, and look in on some other people – starting with some of those criminals and opportunists I mentioned, who angle for ways to separate elders from their money. First I will take you to the monthly meeting of the Crown of Life Society, where we will see one career criminal who’s parlayed her experience into a very lucrative niche in elder exploitation. Meet Sherrelle…

***

All right, y’all, this meetin’ of the Crown of Life Society is in order. I done took the roll, and all my Crown Jewels is present. But there’s some of you here I don’t know.

Sherrelle Sturdivant drew herself to her full five-eleven height, crossed and flexed her big arms. She stared for several seconds at each of the five unfamiliar women, next to the 23 familiar ones, in the strip mall’s rented room between the nail salon and State Farm. Then she lifted her gaze above all the faces, to a point where the far wall and the ceiling met in a corner.

"I know one of y’all is from the FAST team. I made you as soon as you come in. You can leave right now or I’ll kick your ass out my own self; it don’t make me no difference. She kept looking up. I ain’t looking at you till I make my move, so you got a minute to decide if I made you or I’s just frontin’."

She was bluffing all the way. Sherrelle was calling out the threat she could not see; could not be sure was there. Perhaps her challenge would bring out the fear in someone, and she would sense it, and find her.

The Financial Abuse Specialist Team, FAST, that Sherrelle referred to was the new coalition of law enforcement officials, the county attorney’s office, Adult Protective Services and other agencies providing services for the elderly, and the banks. Under new laws in Indiana and a number of other states, FAST had broad jurisdiction to investigate financial abuse of the elderly.

Because elders are presumed to have capacity to make decisions in their own best interest, their requests to change beneficiaries or grant authority under powers of attorney, their applications to take out home equity loans, liquidate stock and buy other stock, etc. go unquestioned for the most part. But this presumption of capacity has left many elders vulnerable to those who would take advantage of them for financial gain. Predators have become beneficiaries, become attorney-in-fact under powers of attorney, taken out loans and kept the money, liquidated stock and kept the money, sold dubious investments and kept the money. Sometimes they are family members, and sometimes mere acquaintances who gained a lonely elder’s trust. The outcry by elder victims and their families had become a howl by the first decade of the 21st century, and state legislatures, regional councils of government, and county and municipal governments began to form FAST units. Not that they had much dedicated funding, but the framework was there, and a few conscientious professionals were determined to make it work.

Sherrelle was just as determined to keep FAST from infiltrating the Crown of Life Society, and destroying a livelihood that, two years ago, she never would have dreamed were possible for her.

It was not quite two years ago when Sherrelle, on parole after serving three years in state prison for receiving stolen property, was standing in line at a Rite-Aid, directly behind a woman in her early eighties named Felicity. Felicity spoke pleasantly to her. They began a conversation that concluded with an offer for Sherrelle to join Felicity and her twin sister Sally Joy in the Wednesday night Bible study at the Church of Christ they attended on Wyckham Street.

A still, small voice told Sherrelle that she should accept the nice lady’s invitation. So she showed up the next Wednesday and, once she saw that the two sisters might have some money, every Wednesday after that. She picked up a Bible at a thrift shop and memorized the order of the sixty-six books, so she could find Scripture quickly, as others in the group could do.

Soon Sherrelle was a frequent guest in the sisters’ home. Felicity and Sally Joy were English, with no relatives and few friends in the United States. They rather enjoyed the company of the young African-American woman who had made mistakes but was trying, with the help of the Word, to turn around her troubled life.

Sally Joy had Stage Four breast cancer, and died within a few months, leaving assets of just over $800,000 to Felicity, who had about the same amount. Then, no sooner was the estate settled than Felicity herself died suddenly in her home. The mail carrier, drawn by the frantic yaps of Felicity’s Lhasa Apso, found the front door unlocked and Felicity at the bottom of the main staircase, apparently having fallen and broken her neck -- three days earlier, by the coroner’s estimate. Relatives in England were shocked by her death, and even more by the fact that her will had been changed just one week earlier, to leave her entire estate to someone named Sherrelle Sturdivant, whom neither sister ever had mentioned in their occasional letters. The will was witnessed by two of Felicity’s neighbors, and notarized. Felicity had no mental weaknesses, and there was nothing to show she was unduly influenced when she executed the will. After speaking to the astonished executor – a friend from church – and an attorney in the U. S., the family concluded that they had no realistic basis on which to caveat or contest the new will in court.

Sherrelle sold the sisters’ home for $310,000, bought a new black Escalade, moved into a much better apartment, parked the rest of her inherited $1.9 million in conservative mutual funds and a money market account, and began to think about how she might turn her good fortune into something even better.

Stick with what you know, Mama had always said.

One night when Sherrelle was 15, she had stepped between her mother and her mother’s drunken boyfriend Chester – taking a blow to the right ear that left her with permanent partial hearing loss. That August night was the last time she’d seen Mama. Sober the next day, after Mama had gone to work, Chester told Sherrelle he was sorry. He talked to her in that same soothing, Barry White croon that always patched things up with Mama. Then when she managed a smile he entreated her, Now give me some sugar. Sherrelle broke away and ran out of the house. She crept back that afternoon, though, when she knew he’d be sleeping after six beers. She packed a few clothes, her other shoes, and her $53 savings in a large freezer bag with snap-together handles, and put it in the hallway. Then she brought five cups of water and three cups of Domino sugar to a boil in a large saucepan, turned off the burner, dumped the bubbling mixture on Chester’s face, grabbed her bag and hit the back door on a dead run. With her one good ear, she could hear the screams behind her just fine.

Stick with what you know. All right, Mama, wherever you are. I know how to get money out of old people, so that’s what I’ll do.

Doing some basic Web research on what issues are important to the growing elderly population of the United States, Sherrelle soon learned a couple of things. One, the demand for nurses, home health aides, various errand-runners and just plain companions was far greater than the supply. Families were so spread out, it was impossible for many adult sons and daughters to provide enough personal attention to the elders who could live by themselves but still needed some help with cooking, cleaning, bathing, shopping, bill-paying, going to the doctor and the like. Not that the adult kids didn’t try, but with the distances involved and the demands of their own spouses and kids, the logistics were daunting. The