PITTSBURGH - U.S. Sen. Dave McCormick, a member of the U.S. Senate Special Committee on Aging held a field hearing in Pittsburgh last week alongside U.S. Sen. John Fetterman examining loneliness and social isolation among older Pennsylvanians and how federal programs can better help seniors stay connected to their communities.
"Pennsylvania seniors helped build our communities, worked our mills and mines, and served our country, and they deserve to stay connected," said McCormick. "Today's hearing is about finding practical ways to reach isolated seniors and ensuring local organizations across Pennsylvania have the support they need to help."
Pennsylvania is home to more than 2.5 million residents age 65 and older, and that population continues to grow. For many seniors, losing a spouse, living far from family, or no longer being able to drive can make it harder to stay connected. Social isolation is not just a quality-of-life issue; it can have serious consequences for older Americans' health and well-being.
"I've always believed in the importance of connecting forgotten communities and making sure they aren't left behind. That includes our aging neighbors and the often unaddressed needs they have," said Senator Fetterman. "Hearing that Meals on Wheels might be the only human contact older folks have that week is alarming. Social isolation and loneliness are serious issues, and I'm grateful for the witnesses' testimony today and understanding how we can better serve the community."
The hearing featured four experts in aging services and research, representing Allegheny County, Penn State, the Jewish Healthcare Foundation, and Meals on Wheels of Lancaster.
Witnesses discussed how the Older Americans Act can better support meal delivery, senior centers, transportation, and other services that help seniors stay connected. Pennsylvania receives approximately $45 million annually through the Act. Senator McCormick cosponsored its bipartisan reauthorization, which passed the Senate unanimously in July.
Eugene Wu recently started his fourth year as a patient of Cliffside Rehabilitation in Queens, New York. He has little hope of ever leaving. Minimally conscious, nonverbal, and quadriplegic since suffering a brain injury, the 47-year-old former IT worker is seen only by staff and his court-appointed guardian.
Until mid-2025, Eugene was visited almost-daily by family members. Court-imposed restrictions now prevent Eugene’s family members from seeing him at all, angering his sister Amy, who complains that he receives substandard medical care.
Why Eugene finds himself trapped and isolated is a complicated tale of years of acrimonious court battles. It involves distressed family members whose efforts to help their loved one may not have always been in Eugene’s best interests, according to court records. Disputes within the family over Eugene’s guardianship and the handling of his assets are what led to his court-ordered removal from his sister Amy’s care and his placement in the nursing home. Her subsequent interference in her brother’s care in the nursing home later prompted the restrictions on family visits.
The saga of the Wu family adds another and often-ignored dimension to the deepening crisis in the U.S. guardianship legal system – which authorizes the courts to appoint individuals to make decisions for those found unable to handle their own affairs. While critics and reformers have long advocated for systemic changes to remedy abuses that make it difficult for families to be heard and wards to escape guardianship, Wu’s case adds a layer of complexity: the growing number of cases in which the actions of families can compound problems.
Experts say the “silver tsunami” of aging boomers is already overwhelming a guardianship system that must decide a rising number of legal questions against the backdrop of emotionally charged family dynamics.
Some families petition the court to end what they see as mistakes or abuses by the court-appointed guardian, while others bring their own internal conflicts and troublesome behavior into the proceedings, which often doesn’t end well for them, says Heidi Isenhart, an elder law attorney who focuses on guardianship and estate planning.
“When the matriarch or patriarch of the family is reaching an end, everybody jockeys for a different position,” said Isenhart. “That’s why people will do things that they wouldn’t imagine. Combine that with greed and emotional baggage, of what they believe they should have gotten. That’s a recipe for disaster.”
Guardianship on the Rise
In New York State, there are approximately 28,600 people under guardianship, according to a 2025 City University of New York Law Review report. Though no organization tracks the number of cases in the U.S. – guardianship is decided in probate court, and stats are broken down by city or county – the National Center for State Courts estimates the number to be 1.5 million people. In the last decade, the figure has jumped 32%, according to a 2026 National Guardian Statistics report.
Many people benefit from guardianship, which occurs when a judge assigns someone to make important decisions for a person unable to care for themselves. Guardianship can be of the person, of their property, or both. Subject to judicial oversight, a guardian can choose to sell a ward’s home and assets, decide where a ward will live, pick doctors and facilities to provide treatment, and hire health aides, house cleaners, hairdressers and dog walkers – all paid from the ward’s estate.
Reformers say independent guardians can be part of the problem with the system, which they can abuse to their own benefit. Despite being granted extensive authority, guardians don’t need to have special qualifications and receive little training. In New York, a guardian must be over 18, have no felony convictions, and take a two-hour online course.
The compensation can be substantial. While family and friends who serve as guardians often waive payment, professional guardians in New York earn between $50 and $150 an hour, according to County Portal Law. Guardians who are also attorneys can earn up to $500 an hour. Amy Wu said she received no compensation for caring for her brother.
Once accredited, a guardian can file in court to be the legal guardian of an alleged incapacitated person, subject to approval by a judge as well as a court evaluator. Under most circumstances, the evaluator will interview the incapacitated person, though this step can be skipped or truncated if the person is considered too incapacitated to speak, as was the case with Eugene Wu.
Eugene Under Guardianship
After Eugene became incapacitated, a court appointed his sister Amy Wu, a retired attorney, to be his guardian. She coordinated his complicated medical needs, including the use of a tracheotomy tube and 24/7 at-home care, in an apartment near her own in New York City. All of it was paid for by Medicaid and family funds, according to court records.
“There was some hope that he would heal so that he could communicate with us,” said Amy, and that early on, her brother “could smile a little bit.”
The family squabbling over Eugene, however, started in 2022 as Amy engaged in a series of financial transactions related to an apartment Eugene owned in San Francisco. She transferred some of his assets into a special needs trust and took out a promissory note and a mortgage to fund his care and reimburse herself for money she had spent to help him, according to court records.
Later, when Amy sought to sell her brother’s apartment and put the bulk of the money in a trust, Eugene’s mother, Shirley Wu, objected. In a letter to the court, reflecting a mother’s boundless hope, she wrote that “once Eugene gets better he would love to go back to his apartment.” Shirley also requested that she become his guardian.
In the letter, Shirley added that she and her husband had funded Eugene’s care for an unspecified amount of money and had not received proper accounting from her daughter. “Where did [Amy] spent [sic] it?” Shirley wrote. “We have a hard feeling and don’t know what to do.”
The letter triggered a lengthy legal process that would put Eugene in the nursing home. Faced with family disputes over money and guardianship, the court intervened to protect Eugene’s interests and began an examination of the financial issues.
“To say this is a very complicated and sad case is an understatement,” wrote New York Supreme Court Judge Phaedra Perry, who later accused Amy Wu of “double-dealing” following the court-ordered review. Amy has denied any wrongdoing and agreed to vacate the promissory note.
In 2023, Amy agreed to temporarily give up her guardianship while the examination was underway, and two weeks later, the court gave the job permanently to Judah Samet, who is CEO of Allied Community Support Services, a nonprofit, according to his LinkedIn page. Other Allied employees include Samet’s father, Morris, as treasurer, and his mother, Sarah, as secretary and director, according to court records and Philanthropy.org.
Although the website for Samet’s group is light on details, Cause IQ, which collects data on nonprofits, reports that in 2024 Allied provided guardianship services and mental health support for 350 incapacitated individuals.
Samet and his organization have also faced legal complaints, according to court records. One ongoing case involves a medical doctor petitioning a federal court to have Samet removed as guardian of her 90-year-old mother for banning family members from seeing her. Samet told the court he has yet to be paid for representing Eugene, and there are no public records showing whether he has received compensation. Samet did not respond to a request for an interview.
After taking over Eugene’s guardianship, Samet visited the Manhattan apartment where Eugene had been under Medicaid-approved care for nearly two years. Amy says she thought the visit went well. “He said the place was amazingly well put together,” she recalled Samet telling her, though he also warned: “You know this can’t continue.”
According to Amy, Samet said the care did not meet the government standards that legal guardianship required, including specially trained nurses. In court, Samet estimated the cost would be $9,450 a week at the low end, or about four times what the family had been spending.
Eugene’s Nursing Home Experience
The relationship between Amy and Samet soon became contentious. In a series of emails, she insisted on input as to where Eugene would be relocated to get the care he needed. Samet reminded her that she was no longer his guardian. When Amy found out Eugene was being moved to the Cliffside nursing home, she started calling the facility to inquire about their services. Samet told her all communications needed to go through his group and warned her to stop meddling. “Next step, I file for a restraining order,” he told her in an email.
The family’s loss of control of Eugene’s care prompted his mother to change her mind, asking the court to restore Amy’s guardianship. “My daughter Amy, she good girl, she love [Eugene], she get too much pressure,” Shirley told Judge Perry through an interpreter. “We can do the withdrawn, okay.”
“No, I’m sorry. I will not do that,” Judge Perry responded.
The nursing home became the next stage for the battle over Eugene. Amy and Shirley often stayed 12 hours at a time at his bedside and, according to staff, sometimes interfered with his care. A March 2025 email to Samet from a Cliffside administrator cited “multiple complaints about the Wu family,” including harassing medical personnel and bringing in multiple humidifiers against health regulations.
Samet responded by having Amy sign an eight-point stipulation forbidding her from interfering with Eugene’s care at Cliffside, warning that any infraction would result in her being banned from seeing her brother. Amy countered that she only pressured staff at Cliffside because of the poor care they provided her brother, including leaving Eugene in his own waste, ignoring his respiratory distress, and not properly hooking up his IV.
During a visit in April 2026, Amy noticed a red bump on her brother’s face. Concerned that nursing home staff were not attending to it, she called 911, resulting in Eugene being moved to a hospital, according to court records. In response, Samet said this was not the sister’s call to make, nor was it necessary. Records show that the rash was treated with antibiotics and was not the medical crisis Amy had made it out to be.
In court, Amy insisted her 911 call was necessary and that she “was not interfering with [Eugene’s] care.” Judge Perry disagreed, asserting that Amy was being deliberately obtuse about the rules and that she had “been unhappy with Allied from the time they came on... unhappy that someone outside of you was guardian.”
Following Amy’s intrusions into Eugene’s care, Samet banned the family from seeing him. Nevertheless, she reapplied twice for guardianship of Eugene, a move Samet and the court had little patience for. “They have done zero steps at all to accomplish any degree of this,” said Samet in June, referring to the preparations they needed to make for Eugene to return home.
Judge Perry went further, stating that the struggle over Eugene had become a “vexatious litigation,” without merit and with the intention to harass Samet personally and the guardianship system as a whole.
Amy insisted this is not the case. “My brother needs someone to sign his papers and do stuff. I just want it to be a family member,” she said. “They want to isolate the ward, and especially me because I’m a pain in the ass.”
Push for Reform
Guardianship reformers say many of the problems in New York State stem from the poor implementation of a 1993 law, Article 81. The CUNY Law Review says the law, “intended as a last-resort protection for individuals unable to manage their personal or financial affairs, has become a default intervention that too often strips people of autonomy and dignity.” While Article 81 requires courts to explore and prioritize less restrictive alternatives before imposing a court-ordered guardian, legal experts say this does not happen often enough because judges find blanket restrictions more expedient.
“In my view, 80 percent or more of all adult guardianships are completely unnecessary,” said Rick Black, who founded the Center for Estate Administration Reform (CEAR) after fighting a battle for the release of his father-in-law from a guardianship system that paid itself $1.2 million over two years. “How the system works is that once you’re in that environment, you can’t get out,” said Black, who estimated that less than 1% of patients leave guardianship before they die.
Reports of neglect, abuse, and fraud within the guardianship system prompted New York State Attorney General Letitia James in 2025 to launch an investigation into half a dozen court-appointed guardianship organizations. The investigation, being handled by the AG’s Charities Bureau, has yet to provide a final report.
Following James’ lead, a task force appointed in 2025 by New York Gov. Kathy Hochul proposed a Master Plan for Aging that includes recommendations to reform Article 81 guardianship and provide $15 million a year in support for non-profit organizations tasked with improving guardianship oversight and funding. The plan remains in committee.
Tanya Hobson-Williams, a Brooklyn-based attorney specializing in elder law and guardianship, said that fraud and theft are on the rise. “There are cases where a guardian has absconded with funds and you can’t find the guardian anymore,” she said. “I’ve had quite a few cases of deed theft and guardianship.”
According to the New York Unified Court System, contesting or ending a guardianship can take several months, depending on court congestion and the complexity of a case. In Brooklyn, there’s a backlog of hundreds of cases in a state that has 31 probate judges for 28,600 people under guardianship, or 923 wards per judge.
“I’ve spoken with the judges and they are seeing more and more cases being filed in all the counties” in New York City, said Hobson-Williams. “As a result, the Office of Court Administration has been reassigning judges from regular Supreme Court to guardianship to help alleviate some of the backlog. Many of those judges don’t have experience in guardianship, and as a result things are not happening as [quickly as] they should.”
Meanwhile, Amy Wu’s struggle to see her brother hit a new wall when, amid her failed petitions for guardianship, the court ordered she be allowed to see Eugene only when supervised by a caregiver from a home care agency. Wu told the court said she couldn’t afford to hire such a caregiver and that she didn’t need supervised visits. The court disagreed, and Samet called Amy “a liar.”
As Amy continues to blame the system rather than anything she has done for the seemingly endless loop of guardianship proceedings, it’s Eugene who pays the price. Reflecting on the last time she saw him, on May 1, she said one of the few things he’d been able to do when under her care was now lost to him.
“He used to smile,” she said. “He doesn’t smile anymore.”
When families enter probate court, they expect protection. They
expect oversight. They expect a system designed to safeguard vulnerable
adults who cannot protect themselves.
What many families say they do not expect, according to sworn filings
now before California courts, is isolation, financial consolidation,
rapid medical deterioration, and a wall of administrative opacity.
For some, the moment is unforgettable. A judge speaks. A ruling is
made. And in an instant, a mother, a father, a son, or a daughter, a
human being who has fought to survive, becomes a ward of the county.
Families who reorganized their entire lives around caregiving are
suddenly reduced to observers. The people who knew the conservatee’s
medical triggers, emergency thresholds, daily rhythms, and hard won
progress are deemed unfit, often without a meaningful opportunity to be
heard.
Decision making authority over health care, living arrangements,
doctors, and treatment shifts to court appointed professionals
previously unknown to the family. Introductions are not required.
Approval is not sought. Oversight is assumed. Families walk out of court
stunned, disoriented, and often traumatized, grappling with how years
of intimate, hands on care could be erased in minutes by a procedural
ruling.
That experience forms the backdrop of what is now before the courts
in Ventura County in the matter of Joshua Saeta, a medically fragile,
wholly dependent adult.
Joshua did not enter the probate system because of age, dementia, or
gradual decline. According to sworn filings and medical records
submitted to the court, he became wholly dependent after suffering a
catastrophic cardiac arrest in 2017 that resulted in a severe anoxic
brain injury. His brain was deprived of oxygen long enough to cause
permanent neurological impairment. He survived, but survival came at a
cost.
From that point forward, Joshua required round the clock care,
complex medical management, and constant monitoring to remain alive. He
could not advocate for himself. He could not manage his medical needs
independently. His survival depended entirely on the consistency,
precision, and continuity of the care surrounding him.
In the years that followed, Joshua did not languish. According to
physician letters and court filings, he achieved relative medical
stability under a physician directed, home based care model. That model
emphasized continuity, familiar caregivers, specialized nutrition
protocols, carefully monitored therapies, and immediate response to
subtle changes that could signal medical emergency.
Central to that care was his sister, Jennifer Saeta, who became his
primary caregiver and medical advocate. For more than eight years, she
lived beside him, learning his baseline condition, emergency warning
signs, and recovery thresholds. Treating clinicians relied on her
longitudinal knowledge to prevent life threatening decline. The
stability Joshua achieved, according to the record, was not accidental.
It was built deliberately, over years, through constant hands on care.
Left:
Josh Saeta in August 2025 under his sister’s care. Right: Josh’s
condition has significantly deteriorated under Ventura County Probate
Care.
This is not a social media dispute or a family disagreement reframed
as legal drama. What has been filed in Ventura County Superior Court
under Case No. 201700495761PRCE, and in related appellate proceedings,
is an extensive emergency record alleging a repeatable pattern within
probate administration, one that according to the filings begins with
caregiver removal and culminates in severe medical decline.
The allegations are not informal. They are sworn, structured, and supported by documentary exhibits.
According to Jennifer Saeta’s sworn filings, Joshua’s stability
deteriorated after conservatorship authority shifted. The care structure
was altered. Placement changed. Family access was restricted. She
asserts that this sequence functioned as a divide and conquer process,
first removing the individuals most knowledgeable about Joshua’s daily
medical management, then isolating him from the continuity of care that
had sustained him for years.
Jennifer further alleges that no meaningful investigation preceded
her removal and that she was denied a full opportunity to advocate for
her brother before decisions affecting his life and care were finalized.
These assertions are presented as allegations, not adjudicated
findings.
Families caught in this process often describe the same refrain. You
may visit, but you may not intervene. Advocacy is reframed as
obstruction. Objection is characterized as noncompliance. While families
are told to support court appointed conservators, they allege they are
instead forced to watch as quality of life diminishes under the control
of strangers with no prior relationship to the conservatee.
The emergency petition in the Saeta matter does not accuse criminal conspiracy. It documents patterns.
On February 10, 2026, Andrew Rose submitted a sworn declaration in
support of emergency appellate review. Under penalty of perjury, he
describes recurring similarities he states he has observed across
unrelated Ventura County probate matters. Long standing caregivers
characterized as uncooperative. Sudden exclusion from medical decision
making. Institutional placement. Rapid medical decline. Restricted
communication. Difficulty obtaining records.
Attached to that declaration is a Unified Pattern Summary, which
explicitly states that it does not allege criminal conduct or reach
legal conclusions. It consolidates recurring factual similarities across
cases and leaves questions of culpability to judicial or investigative
review.
In the Saeta matter specifically, Jennifer Saeta alleges that a court
appointed professional charged with safeguarding Joshua’s interests
failed to function as an independent advocate. She does not allege
explicit collusion or criminal coordination. Instead, she asserts that
the professional’s actions and billing records reflected conduct
inconsistent with independent advocacy, leading her to conclude that
Joshua’s interests were not being meaningfully advanced. That
distinction is central to the filings, which frame the issue as systemic
misalignment rather than overt misconduct.
The financial dimension of the case is significant, though partially
shielded by confidentiality provisions. Court exhibits confirm that
Joshua is associated with a high value trust governed by a nondisclosure
agreement. Jennifer Saeta alleges that while Joshua’s physical
condition declined, substantial administrative and professional fees
were drawn from the trust. She argues that the pattern reflects
incentive rather than coincidence. These claims remain allegations and
have not been adjudicated.
Additional exhibits include a certified Ventura County Clerk Recorder
search documenting numerous estate related filings associated with a
recurring fiduciary name. The filings themselves are not alleged to be
unlawful. They are presented to demonstrate frequency, volume, and
concentration of fiduciary activity within a limited professional
ecosystem.
As the legal record expanded, the medical situation intensified.
While declarations were being prepared and exhibits compiled,
Joshua’s medical condition deteriorated. According to physician letters
submitted to the court, based on photographic review, longitudinal
treatment history, and clinical assessment, he now exhibits extensive
muscle wasting, depleted subcutaneous fat stores, and findings
consistent with severe malnutrition.
The filings state that Joshua has declined to the point of requiring
total parenteral nutrition, an intravenous intervention typically
reserved for cases in which the gastrointestinal system can no longer
sustain life through enteral feeding. The reviewing clinician
characterized his condition as an imminent threat to life, citing
aspiration risk, pressure ulcer risk, and medical instability associated
with prolonged bed confinement.
Jennifer Saeta attributes this decline to the sequence of legal and
medical decisions she is challenging. That attribution is presented as
her allegation.
The filings cite statutory frameworks governing elder and dependent
adult protection in California. Those statutes impose affirmative duties
to prevent neglect, broadly defined, and to investigate when a
dependent adult experiences unexplained decline. The filings do not
assert that Ventura County or its officials have been criminally
charged. They ask whether statutory obligations were fulfilled when a
wholly dependent adult declined precipitously under court supervised
care.
What began as a dispute over authority within a complex probate
structure has, according to the petitioner, evolved into an urgent life
safety matter. Jennifer Saeta states that after she sought independent
legal counsel and challenged decisions affecting Joshua’s care, she was
removed from participation in his daily medical oversight. She argues
that what appears procedurally administrative on paper has, in practice,
resulted in prolonged separation from the person most familiar with
Joshua’s medical baseline.
One of the most consequential aspects of the emergency petition is
procedural rather than financial. The Unified Pattern Summary notes that
in multiple probate matters, conservatees allegedly declined beyond
recovery before appellate review could occur. By the time higher courts
addressed the issues, the medical outcomes rendered the legal questions
effectively moot.
DISCLAIMER: Investigative reporting in high-profile litigation cases published by The Current Report is
non-commercial, fact-based journalism; any project fees compensate
research and reporting labor only, sources participate solely in
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The Current Report after fact-checking is confirmed.
A Missouri mother says her experience with the guardianship system has
inspired her to push for changes in state law to protect families like
hers.
by Ceilidh Kern
When Twila Foley brought a Christmas gift for her son, Christopher,
to his nursing facility in Plattsburg, Missouri, she was not allowed to
enter the building’s lobby.
Instead, she watched him open his gift — a pillow with a picture of his dog, Oakley, printed on it — through a glass door.
Christopher asked the aide who accompanied him if he could go out to hug her. The aide said no.
“So I watched as he opened his present alone in a skilled nursing
facility, and I thought of the Christmas dinners that he used to have,
filled with family and friends,” Twila said. “I thought about all the
things that he is no longer allowed to do and how that must feel for
him.”
Christopher, a 35-year-old with cerebral palsy, died Aug. 19, 2025,
from cardiac arrest in the nursing facility where he lived the last
several years of his life. He weighed 94 pounds.
The Beacon spoke with Twila on Aug. 6, before Christopher’s death.
She hadn’t spoken with him for months after his father cut off
communication. Now, she’s advocating for a law that seeks to combat
isolation by centering the wishes of people under guardianship.
For most of his life, Christopher, who went by “Topher,” had lived at
home. Raised in Osceola and Pleasant Hill by his mother, he underwent
19 surgeries over the course of his life, including the installation of
an experimental pump that released medicine into his brain to loosen his
muscles.
Between the medicine and physical therapy, Topher was able to walk in
a walker and hold down a job at a nearby sheltered workshop. In his
free time, he went parasailing, attended concerts and hung out with
friends.
From the age of 18, Topher was under the guardianship of his mother,
which gave her the legal power to make all of his decisions for him.
“I had no idea, when I obtained full guardianship of him … fully what
that meant,” she said. “They said it had to be done so I can continue
with his medical care. What they didn’t tell me was the full
ramifications of total guardianship.”
Topher’s final years
In May 2020, Twila went out of town for a seasonal job in South Dakota, leaving Topher with a caretaker.
That marked the beginning of an ongoing he-said, she-said dispute
about the last years of Topher’s life and his wishes during that time.
Twila said she was gone for two weeks to get herself settled before
she planned to return to Missouri to get Topher and bring him to live
with her there. Her ex-husband and Topher’s father, Robert Foley, said
she was gone for over three years, but Twila said that’s not true.
“It hadn’t taken me three years to come back, but three years to find Christopher,” she said.
A week after Twila left, Robert took Topher out of the caretaker’s
home and went to court, arguing that Twila had abandoned their son. He
got temporary guardianship of Topher in July 2020 and obtained full
guardianship by December.
The abandonment charges were later dismissed, but Robert remained Topher’s guardian.
Topher lived with Robert for a little over a year before he moved into a nursing facility.
“We had been trying to get him into a group home. It was in the
middle of COVID still, so that was not a possibility. He started acting
up, having outbursts,” Robert said.
“We went to North Kansas City Hospital for a behavioral assessment,”
he added. “To this day, I’m not sure what he told the nurses, but I was
called in for him to bring his stuff (and told) that he would not be
coming back (to my home), per his wishes.”
When Twila couldn’t get in touch with Topher and learned from family
what had happened, she said she spent the next several years trying to
find him. To do so, she tried to contact Robert, asked friends and
family for any information they had and went to law enforcement. But she
said the police were not willing to help her until the abandonment
charges were later dropped.
“So I decided to go door to door until I found him, and I did just
that,” she said. “I went door to door to every skilled nursing facility
until I found him.”
But when she came back the next day, she was told by staff that she was not allowed to visit him.
“I requested no visitation because it was not good for his state of
mind,” Robert said. “She put this young man through emotional distress
multiple times.”
He said Topher had told therapists that Twila “messed with his head too much … promising him things and then not delivering.”
On several occasions since he became his guardian and as recently as
April 2025, Topher asked Robert not to let Twila visit or contact him,
Robert said.
“When I was asked by the ward not to allow her in his life, I was respecting his wishes,” he said.
Robert said he offered to set up monitored visits, but Twila said no.
Instead, she kept in touch with Topher over the phone. But his behavior started to change, Robert said.
“Outbursts, cursing, arguments with everyone. Mom — he wanted to be
with mom. Mom was promising him who knows what,” Robert said. “She
created a very hostile place for him, urged him and encouraged him to do
whatever he could to get himself removed from the nursing home.”
Twila acknowledged that Topher was having outbursts at this time but said they weren’t the result of their contact.
“The outbursts were because Christopher didn’t belong there and
Christopher himself was crying out and reaching out for help,” she said.
“It was a manipulated situation where the guardian was trying to keep
him in isolation to prevent people from seeing the real facts, taking
the focus away from his declining health.”
When Robert became Topher’s guardian, he had his pump removed. According to court documents, it had stopped working. Twila said there had been issues with it before, given the experimental nature of the device.
According to Robert, when he took Topher in for a routine appointment
to refill the medicine in the pump in 2022, the doctor told him that
the tube connecting the pump to Topher’s brain was causing irritation to
Topher’s nerves.
The doctor recommended the entire pump be removed, and Topher agreed,
Robert said. When asked why a new pump wasn’t installed after, Robert
said Topher had asked to not get a new one.
With the pump gone, Twila said, “His condition deteriorated. He can’t stand up anymore.”
At the nursing facility, Topher was given medicine that Twila said
made him vomit, but when he raised concerns, he was forced to take it by
staff and his father.
“I have so many phone calls and recordings of Topher — he would set
his phone on speaker and hide it behind his pillow so I could hear what
he was having to endure,” she said, adding that things were “so bad, he
would call 911 or have me call 911 for an ambulance to come and help him
and the ambulance would be refused at the door, per the guardian’s
directions.”
Robert said the nursing facility had security camera footage of
Topher making himself vomit after taking the medicine and that he’d been
able to take the drugs without a problem before he got back in touch
with his mother.
“The more communication Topher had with me, the less he was able to
have his rights, such as using a cellphone,” Twila said. “His friends
tried to go visit him and weren’t even allowed to take him an Easter
basket.”
In a legal filing
from May 2024, Robert told the court that Topher “has a cellular
telephone and other communications devices available to him and is
generally able to communicate with whomever he chooses.”
Robert later told The Beacon that he had taken away Topher’s devices
“when his behaviors became too excessive, when he kept refusing his
medicine.”
“I didn’t want to, but when the communication between her and him got
to a point that he was going into the director’s office (at the nursing
facility) and starting an argument with her on speakerphone, that’s a
little excessive,” he said.
In 2024, Topher had a friend in the facility write several letters to
his mother. On one envelope, mailed in July 2024, he had the envelope
addressed to Lori Samples, a friend, from “Chris Samples.” He also had
the friend mail it while they were at church so it wouldn’t go through
the facility’s mail system.
“Thanks, mom, for being so good to me all through the hardships,” he
wrote. “I have no phone. Dad called Roger and he took the phone. I guess
he really doesn’t know how blessed I am having a mom like you to love
me.”
Topher
had a friend in the nursing facility write several letters to his
mother in 2024, including a card. The envelope was addressed to Lori
Samples, a friend, from “Chris Samples.” Topher used a different name
and had his friend mail the card while they were at church to keep it
from being intercepted, Twila said.
Twila said the isolation Topher experienced in the nursing facility
contributed greatly to the decline in his mental and physical health.
“Isolation can be so damaging to people with a guardian — it’s
detrimental to their health. It’s been proven that it lowers life
expectancy, and it’s taking away their fundamental right,” she said.
“What man has a right to tell another man he can’t make a phone call?”
‘That’s what Topher’s Law is going to change’
Through her experience in court, Twila said, she learned that under Missouri law, “the guardian has all the rights.”
“Until that changes, the situation that’s happening to Topher and so
many others in the state of Missouri is not going to end,” she said.
Her experience inspired Twila to push for a change in the law. Her
proposal, called “Topher’s Law,” aims to combat isolation by requiring
guardians to petition the court to block a person from seeing the ward.
Under the current law, the order is reversed, and people who have
been blocked from seeing a ward must themselves petition the court for
access.
Topher’s Law would also codify several rights of wards, including:
The right to spend time with family.
The right to consent to calls and visits.
The right to express their own wishes in court related to visitation and guardianship restrictions.
The right to access an attorney at no cost to help with visitation challenges.
Protection from retaliation for asserting their rights under the law or maintaining relationships with family members.
“I feel they should have the right to do these things as anybody would have the right to do these things,” Twila said.
While the proposed law was inspired by her own experience trying to
visit Topher while he was under Robert’s guardianship, she said: “I’m
not doing this to attack him. I’m doing this to attack a flawed system.”
As part of her effort to get Missouri’s law changed, Twila launched an online campaign — which has gathered more than 250 signatures — and reached out to local state lawmakers.
Sen. Rick Brattin, a Republican from Harrisonville, said he’s heard
from Twila and is interested in helping her either by carrying the
legislation himself or helping her find someone who can.
“I think it’s terrible that somebody can be there for their child,
and the way the system’s set up, they can be ripped out from underneath
them. It’s really heart-wrenching,” Brattin told The Beacon.
“It’s something that we definitely need to address,” he added. “If
I’m not going to spearhead it and be the bill sponsor, (I want to) at
least be part of the discussion.”
In a later conversation, Twila told The Beacon she’d also received
support from Rep. Mike Steinmeyer, a Republican from Sugar Creek, and
Sen. Adam Schnelting, a Republican from St. Charles.
Twila said that Topher’s Law focuses on preventing isolation because
she believes it is “the most pressing piece,” but she said “there’s so
much more that needs to change.”
Asked whether she will continue to advocate for changes to the
guardianship law if Topher’s Law passes, Twila replied, “Absolutely.”
“I won’t stop until I fix this. I won’t. I can’t. I promised him,”
she said. “We can’t stand here and let this happen to people. I won’t
stop, and then I’ll push on. I’ll push for more rights, and I’ll push
for it to go federal.”
Changing guardianship statute and culture
Twila’s efforts come after Missouri’s guardianship law was changed in
2018 to codify wards’ rights, including the right to communicate freely
and privately with family and friends.
While the law guarantees access to loved ones, it also clarifies that
access can be limited by the guardian if they believe contact with a
particular person could harm the ward.
Jennifer Hulme, co-founder of advocacy organization Alternatives to
Guardianship, said cutting off visitation can often be the result of
serious concerns, but sometimes “it can be out of convenience for the
guardian.”
“We would like to think that’s not something that happens, but in
reality, it does,” she said. “The guardian just has to say, ‘This person
is causing the ward undue anxiety or undue stress,’ and they can block
that communication.”
The decision can come after friends or family raise concerns about care, she said.
“If the family or friend steps in and starts to call the guardian and
say … ‘They weren’t very clean, it didn’t look like they had changed
their clothes for a few days,’ and they keep reporting those concerns,
sometimes it’s seen as them rocking the boat,” she said.
David English, a law professor at the University of Missouri in
Columbia and co-chair of the Missouri Working Interdisciplinary Network
of Guardianship Stakeholders, has helped to shape guardianship policy in
Missouri and elsewhere.
“The idea behind all recent legislation is that guardianship should
be the absolutely last resort, because you’re appointing someone who
literally succeeds to all the individual’s rights,” he said.
He said guardianship is often seen as the only solution when
alternative approaches might get a ward the care and support they need
while also preserving their rights.
“My great concern for adults with developmental disabilities is that
oftentimes, it’s automatic,” English said. “It’s been part of the
culture for decades.”
There are currently more than 35,000 Missourians under guardianship,
according to data from the Office of State Courts Administrator. That
number includes older people, people with disabilities and others that
courts across the state have decided need help making decisions.
According to English, an ideal system would allow for a complete
evaluation of a person’s capacities and needs and an exploration of all
possible solutions — like supported decision-making, a less restrictive
alternative — before a guardianship is pursued.
He said that although progress has been made on guardianship, a 1988
report by the American Bar Association calling for reforms to the
guardianship system included many recommendations that “are still
current today.”
“These problems aren’t new,” he said. “Things are getting better, but slowly.”
In the wake of several high profile guardianship abuse cases,
including Wendy Williams speaking out about her forced conservatorship
and New York Attorney General Letitia James investigation into
guardianship providers, Senator Anthony Palumbo (R,C-New Suffolk) is
renewing his efforts to reform New York’s Guardianship system through
the passage of Karilyn’s Law. The legislation provides a
mechanism allowing family members and friends to visit loved ones under
guardianship and conservatorship. The bill is named after Karilyn
Montanti, a senior and victim of the guardianship system, whose loved
ones had been denied visitation rights.
Karilyn’s Law prevents a guardian, care manager, or power of attorney
from arbitrarily terminating visitation rights and isolating vulnerable
individuals who are being held in involuntary guardianship. The bill
provides for the ward or family members, who have been denied their due
process rights, to be heard and have an evidentiary hearing before the
court within 10 days of bringing an application.
“New York’s guardianship system needs to be overhauled to protect some
of the State’s most vulnerable residents from forced isolation and
provide them with the ability to see loved ones and friends,” said Senator Anthony Palumbo.
“The denial of visitation rights is just one component of the
guardianship abuse we are witnessing throughout New York, but it is the
most inhumane and must be addressed in 2025.”
Chrisine Montanti, daughter of Karilyn Montanti and a Guardianship Advocate said:
“I have been living a complete nightmare for several years as my mother
is in a constant state of torture and I am powerless to save her. My
mother was blocked and denied access to her entire family, friends and
only grandchild without having an evidentiary hearing and without due
process. I am grateful to Senator Palumbo for his continued efforts to
pass Karilyn’s Law and as a champion of guardianship reform. His work
to safeguard New York State’s most vulnerable individuals will help
prevent other families from having to endure the horrific ordeal that I
have been facing for nearly a decade.”
“If this can happen to me and my family this can happen to anyone. We
have been blocked from contacting my mother and aunt by phone, I
personally have no visitation rights to my mother, and I have been
threatened with jail time while trying to get my mother back to her home
in New York. The guardianship system needs to be reformed, and I urge
the legislature to pass Karilyn’s Law this year,” said Illana Musikar.
“My mother screamed you are breaking my arm as she was dragged out of her homeagainst
her will and placed in a memory-care facility in Irondequoit New York.
No doctor or judge said she was mentally incompetent. She was denied
the right to make phone calls, have visitors of her choosing and was
drugged against her will. If Karilyn’s Law had been in effect, I could
have helped her and brought her home. Instead, she died alone on a
narrow bed at the facility. We need to pass Karilyn’s Law and provide
greater protection for vulnerable New Yorkers like my mom,” said Jonathan Farley.
"New York’s guardianship system is in dire need of reform to protect
our most vulnerable citizens from exploitation and abuse. Karilyn’s Law
is a critical step forward in ensuring that families are not unjustly
torn apart by guardianship decisions made without accountability or due
process. Growing public awareness and attention to the abuses within the
guardianship system highlight the urgency of addressing these failures.
By passing Karilyn’s Law, we can prevent other families from enduring
the heartbreak and injustice that so many have already faced under the
current system." – Senator George Borrello, 57th District.
“Karilyn’s Law is long overdue and is a simple change to improve the
State’s guardianship system. The legislation will help close a loophole
that has allowed guardians with extreme power to deprive individuals of
their visitation rights and will reunite family, friends and loved ones.
It is the compassionate and right thing to do for the countless
families navigating the guardianship system,” concluded Senator Anthony Palumbo.
Caring for elderly family members is never easy. There are so many questions to consider, like what’s really best for the individual, and how accessible are resources.
One woman is discovering just how difficult it is to be there for her elderly mother thanks to some strange financial challenges.
A woman in Ohio shared that she has to pay to see her mother in an assisted living facility.
Las Vegas-based realtor Carrie Meyer recently went to visit her 90-year-old mother in an Ohio assisted living facility with her daughter, Chloe. She was shocked when she arrived at the facility and was asked to pay for her visit.
“$35 an hour,” said Meyer. “That’s what I had to pay to see my 90-year-old mother in an assisted living facility in Ohio.”
As if having to pay for the visit wasn’t bad enough, the facility insisted that Meyer pay before she actually had the visit. “Prepayment was required or I was denied visitation,” she said.
Of course, assisted living facilities aren’t free. Meyer’s mother is already paying to stay there each month. “The estate guardian is charging her $8,000 a month rent,” she explained.
It seems that there is more drama than just the price of the facility and the required prepayment. Meyer stated, “My sister, brother, and I are prohibited from taking her anywhere. She doesn’t want to be there and wants to live with my sister; however, a downstairs bathroom must be added and is not financially doable.”
The I-Team has been covering Florida’s broken professional guardianship system for more than a decade, uncovering instances of isolation, exploitation and abuse of Florida’s most vulnerable seniors by court-appointed guardians in our ongoing series “The Price of Protection."
Now a Polk County woman is speaking out about how her longtime partner’s estate plan was overturned, taking away her right to care for him and even see him in his final days.
She is now supporting proposed changes to Florida’s guardianship law intended to protect other families.
Pete’s empire
Donald “Pete” Beaty was a simple man who lived an extraordinary life.
“He was such a millionaire and so successful,” Doris Beaty said.
Pete’s empire included a rock quarry, a cattle ranch and an orange grove.
He bought and sold thousands of acres, making millions and inspiring his stepson Rey Contreras along the way.
“Pete taught me that a man with a third-grade education can accomplish anything in this country,” Contreras said.
Pete also won $17.5 in the Florida Lottery in 1990.
But three years later, his first marriage ended, and his winnings went to his wife and children in the divorce settlement.
In 2002, Pete married his second wife, longtime business manager Doris, who immigrated to the US from Cuba in the 1980s.
Her son Contreras was from a previous marriage.
“My life was dedicated to Pete. 24/7 was Pete and the businesses,” Doris said.
But Doris and Pete divorced in 2007.
Doris kept the couple’s lakefront home, but Pete moved back months later.
He lived with Doris there for the next 12 years, even though they never remarried.
Doris named in estate planning documents
In 2016, Pete signed legal documents appointing Doris to manage his affairs and make medical decisions for him if he was no longer able to.
“I was to be trustee, guardian and health care surrogate,” Doris said.
“He hired a lawyer, he had notaries, he had witnesses. He did everything years ago,” Contreras said.
Pete gave $100,000 a year to the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville and donated money to build a surgical wing at a Plant City hospital.
In his trust agreement, he planned to share his wealth.
“If a man wants to leave 40% of his trust like Pete did to give away to people, that’s his right. My mom was gonna help spread that 40% amongst various causes,” Contreras said.
Pete’s trust agreement said his sons “shall not receive any property” or serve as trustees “for any reason or under any circumstance.”
Pete’s arrest triggers guardianship process
In 2019, Pete showed signs of dementia.
When she tried to stop him from driving, a confused Pete pulled a gun on her.
She called the police.
“Pete was arrested, and I got him out of jail, and then I hired sitters to help me take care of Pete,” Doris said.
Doris petitioned to be his guardian, but his sons filed a counter-petition seeking guardianship.
They described themselves as sons, while Doris was referred to as Pete’s describing “ex-spouse."
A judge removed all of Pete's rights and appointed a professional guardian to oversee his vast estate.
“Pete was removed from the home, isolated, neglected, abandoned,” Doris said.
The guardian restricted Doris’ visitation and bought another house with Pete’s money, hiring round-the-clock caregivers.
She was paid more than $100,000 from his funds in just five months.
For the first time, it is projected there will be more senior citizens than children (Getty Images)
For the first time, the U.S. Census Bureau is projecting that over the next decade, there will be more senior citizens than children. Adult Protective Services says that could be a source of concern because Bexar County has the second-highest number of elder abuse cases in the entire state.
“Here in Bexar County, we receive the second highest number of
incidents of neglect, abuse and exploitation in the state,” said Ann
Cortez, a District Director for Adult Protective Services.
Cortez says elders become more susceptible to various crimes as they grow older.
“Older adults who are isolated in the community are much more
susceptible to exploitation, to being taken advantage of, they are
susceptible to neglect, self-neglect,” said Cortez.
Cortez said older adults can fall victims to scams but more often they are financially taken advantage of by people they know.
“Maybe
relying on the wrong individual or you can run into situations where
people that you trusted begin to take advantage of you both financially
and also neglect you,” said Cortez.
She added that it’s a growing trend.
“We
are also seeing a rise in financial exploitation cases where the elder
is being taken advantage of by either a caregiver, a family member,”
said Cortez.
Maria Lopez works at Texas Senator Jose Menendez’s
office and oversees taking calls for elder abuse reports. She said in
many cases, these older adults don’t realize they are being financially
abused before it’s too late.
“A grandchild handed you some papers,
took you to eat tacos and then took you to a layer to turn over your
house to him or her,” said Lopez.
She said if you have a loved one
who is getting older, you need to make sure their caretake has their
best interest at heart and any red flags should prompt you to make a
report to adult protective services.
“She would some over, go with
him to cash his checks and then take off. He was filled with roaches it
was filthy, it was not clean,” said Lopez.
Officials with adult
protective services also said if you are close to any elders, you should
be paying attention to any changes in their behavior or spending habits
as these could be signs they are being abused.
INTERLOCHEN — Cruise control, 82 mph, cut to black, then a fleeting
image of a good Samaritan who stopped to help and called 911.
Dwight
Lewis remembers these scant details from March 2019, when he was
driving on US-31 near Ludington, suffered an epileptic seizure and
crashed his truck.
Twenty minutes, four broken ribs, a broken collarbone and a traumatic brain injury later, Lewis regained consciousness.
“I came to, I knew things weren’t right and I vaguely remember people
coming up to my window with the Jaws of Life,” Lewis said. “Then
nothing after that.”
Since the accident, Lewis has lived with his
mother, Chris Lewis, in a house filled with art in the woods near
Interlochen State Park.
When he smiles, the expression comes on quickly and envelopes his whole face.
A
loud high-pitched “cuk-cuk-cuk” sound interrupts an interview with a
reporter, Dwight stops mid-sentence, holding up an index finger.
“Pileated woodpecker,” he says, and there’s that smile.
The
brain injury from the crash was actually Lewis’ second — multiple skull
fractures in a 2011 skateboard accident not only caused the epilepsy,
but put him into court-ordered guardianship — and working his way back
to health and autonomy hasn’t been easy.
Lewis, 40, who’d trained
as a chef, not only had to learn how to cook again, he had to re-learn
how to drive, use a cell phone, handle his finances and get along with
other people, including his mother.
“My injuries have caused me to
burn some bridges between both my friends and my family,” Lewis says in
a text, sent days after the interview. “My goal and mission now is to
rebuild those bridges.”
Dwight moved in with Chris, and she became
her son’s court-appointed guardian after the skateboard accident, but a
few months after the highway crash, both agreed the arrangement was no
longer working.
Traumatic brain injuries can result in something
neurologists call “flooding,” in which a healing brain is overloaded by
outside stimuli, making it physically impossible for a person to
regulate their emotions and behavior.
“We argued a lot then,”
Chris said. “He was often angry, which I understood, but it got to the
point where we needed outside help.”
Court-appointed guardianships
and conservatorships are a protective measure often associated with
older adults, when a judge decides because of illness or memory loss,
someone can no longer make their own decisions.
Younger people also can be appointed guardians by the court, often as the result of a catastrophic injury like Dwight’s.
Regardless
of age or the reason for the guardianship, a review of probate court
records by the Record-Eagle in more than a dozen Michigan counties shows
court oversight often becomes permanent by default.
“Generally
speaking, there’s an attitude that cognitive impairments don’t get
better,” said Sheila Englehardt, a professional guardian in Roscommon
County who is not connected to the Lewis case.
“Once someone is in the system,” Englehardt said, “it’s like this continuing rotation.”
Dwight
committed himself to years of hard work — occupational, speech and
ocular therapy, an in-patient stay at a neurorestorative program, months
in a residential setting learning to live companionably alongside
roommates, plus regular appointments with a psychiatrist.
“When he sets his mind to something, that’s it,” Chris said, “that’s Dwight.”
Earlier this month, his efforts paid off.
On Sept. 12, Dwight
stepped off the “continuing rotation” of court oversight, after
successfully petitioning Grand Traverse County Probate Court Judge
Jennifer Whitten to terminate his guardianship.
Lee Storch of
Guardian Services of Northwest Michigan, who succeeded Chris Lewis as
Dwight’s guardian, told the judge she supported Dwight’s decision and
helped him file the petition.
Both say Dwight’s abilities improved under guardianship.
“As
skeptical as I was, it helped me and it helped my mom,” Dwight Lewis
said of the time he spent as a ward of the court. “I do know that has
not been everyone’s experience.”
Record-Eagle reporters in August
2021 began examining records in Michigan’s probate courts and have since
reported a steady stream of worrisome accounts ranging from family
isolation to outright theft.
These previous stories involved
people of means and those on fixed incomes, people who live
independently and those who require residential care, those with close
family members and those without, but all had one thing in common: They
began with a judicial decision meant to protect them by appointing a
guardian or conservator.
Decades of reform attempts by governors,
attorneys general and legislators have so far failed to alter the
Michigan judiciary, which controls guardianship procedures and calls for
probate courts to collect paperwork and keep records, but gives probate
judges little enforcement power when things go awry.
Some
familial and professional guardians in recent months have faced criminal
charges after being accused of embezzling from clients.
In one
recent case, a Macomb County woman, Lisa Ludy, was charged with nine
felonies and could face up to 20 years in prison after being accused by
Michigan Attorney General Dana Nessel of using Community Guardian Care,
Inc., to conduct a criminal enterprise.
Nessel said in a press
release that Ludy’s company was appointed guardian and conservator for
an unnamed victim, then stole more than $100,000 from Social Security
checks, an inheritance and proceeds from the sale of the victim’s home.
Thousands
of guardians and conservators — acting as fiduciaries — serve in their
roles without running afoul of the law. Professional guardians like
Storch say it is hard to find qualified people, when guardians who serve
those on Medicaid are paid less than $100 a month per client.
Storch
said she is researching ways to turn her company into a nonprofit
organization to seek alternative funding and have support from an
advisory board.
“What we do is not all about the money,” Storch said.
Storch
has more than 30 guardianship clients at any one time; she and her
partner, Tracy McCain, provide limited and temporary services to as many
as 50 others, she said.
Dwight is the only client she’s worked with who has “graduated” from guardianship, she said.
Once
he began making — and keeping — medical appointments, working a
part-time job at Oryana West, maintaining a good relationship with his
mom and his girlfriend, and got his driver’s license reinstated, Storch
said the court didn’t need to be involved in his life.
Dwight agreed.
“When all this started for me with the court, I had no hope,” Dwight said. “Then I began making some goals.”
Dwight said after the hearing, he and his girlfriend, Annette Abraham, went to Colorado for the weekend.
They toured Red Rocks amphitheater, where Dwight asked Annette to marry him.
IT’S TIME to sound the alarm on the
growing elder abuse crisis. Across the United States, our most
vulnerable citizens are experiencing premature death, physical and
psychological harm, and financial ruin due to malicious actors.
The
U.S. Department of Justice has found that nearly 10% of adults over the
age of 65 experience abuse of some kind. Yet, the number is likely even
larger. The DOJ has determined that only 1 in 12 victims of
psychological abuse, 1 in 20 victims of physical abuse, 1 in 44 victims
of financial exploitation, and 1 in 57 victims of caregiver neglect will
report their case. Underreporting is not just a national phenomenon,
underreporting occurs in New Hampshire as well.
According to New Hampshire’s Bureau of
Elderly & Adult Services, only 1 in 14 cases of abuse will be
reported. According to the National Council on Aging, the reasons for
underreporting are myriad — fear of retaliation by the offender,
reluctance to disclose the incident because of shame or embarrassment,
concern they will be institutionalized, dependency on the offender, and
an inability to report because of physical limitations or cognitive
impairments. An abuser may be a caregiver, someone that is trusted by
the senior citizen, but studies indicate that 60 to 90% of elder abuse
is committed by family.
Cleary,
elder abuse is a pervasive issue. New Hampshire must afford greater
protections to our most at risk citizens. Addressing this growing crisis
is not without challenges, but there are solutions within our grasp.
There are three actions we can take to address the growing elder abuse
crisis:
First, we must help New
Hampshire residents understand the issue. Elder abuse relative to other
forms of intimate partner violence has lagged behind in dedicated
research funding, national data collection, and federal legislation. The
Elder Justice Act passed by Congress came 24 years after the passage of
the Children’s Justice and Assistance Act and was not funded by
appropriations. For every dollar spent by the federal government to
address family violence, only a penny was spent to address elder abuse.
The lack of allocated funding to study elder abuse has stymied
awareness. Elder abuse is not a new phenomenon. It simply has not been
discussed enough. More must be done to spread public awareness.
Second, we must prevent seclusion of the
elderly. A University of Southern California study published in the
Journal of Aging and Mental Health found that minimizing loneliness and
social isolation can prevent elder abuse. Moreover, the research found
that “individuals with a higher interpersonal dysfunction… (had) greater
financial exploitation vulnerability.” Loneliness and social isolation
make adults over 65 more likely to be victims of abuse. In New
Hampshire, we must improve community support services. There are close
to 40 senior day centers in the state — 14 of which are covered by
Medicaid — that provide essential services while granting a home-based
caregiver or family member a respite. These centers have done a lot of
good but there must be greater access to them across New Hampshire.
Finally,
we must improve reporting methods. A national survey of emergency
department physicians found that 74% of doctors could not characterize
or define instances of elder abuse and 58% of physicians could not say
confidently whether they could identify when elder abuse has occurred.
All too often, traits of abuse are similar to the most common medical
conditions of those over 65. Burns are similar to contact dermatitis and
bone fractures are a symptom of osteoporosis. Research, greater
resources, and improved training must be a priority so that the medical
expertise of frontline workers can be utilized effectively in the fight
against elder abuse.
In 2020,
one in five New Hampshire residents was over 60. By 2030, the over-60
population here is expected to top one in four. This is an estimated
overall increase of 30% over the next decade. As New Hampshire ages,
elder abuse will become more prolific, but we aren’t powerless. There
are actions we can take immediately.
New
Hampshire Adult Protective Services is staffed by 37 professionals
charged with the responsibility for investigating and documenting abuse
for a population of 370,000 elderly citizens in the state.
If
we add just five more full-time APS professionals to lead
investigations into abuse, the effect would be significant. Since 2019,
the state has increased the APS budget by 11% to a total of $6.7
million. We are taking the right steps to combat elder abuse, but more
must be done. If we do not spread awareness, prevent loneliness and
isolation, and improve resources and training, then elder abuse will
become widespread.
District 3 Executive Councilor Janet Stevens (R) lives in Rye.
We need people to inspire us onward in a flawed world; we need people to blame for the flaws.
But our desire for clarity can create polarity. Our search for simplicity can miss the point.
The
Record-Eagle’s nine-month dive into Michigan’s guardianship and
conservator system found few heroes or villains, and fewer simple
answers.
The more reporters investigated, the more tangles they found.
Many
working in the system had both insight into its flaws and also reasons
for them — changed policies, realities of funding and staffing,
jurisdiction issues, delineation of duties, client privacy,
fragmentation and more.
Those in the system juggle these, with the
responsibility to decide what’s best for someone else, while walking a
tightrope between ardent family members who disagree with each other on
what “best” is. The difficulties are no doubt immense.
But we let one faction guide our reporting: The people for whom the system is built.
Vulnerable
adults. The elderly. Those incapacitated by circumstance and illness.
The guardian/conservator system is meant to serve them — not those
orbiting around them.
But time, and time again, we found the
system serving itself, the absence of the voices of the individuals in
question creating both a vacuum and an opportunity for exploitation; a
lack of accountability and transparency allowing repeated and
unnecessary incompetence and abuse.
“Unguarded’s” findings bear repeating:
Probate courts aren’t built to audit and monitor what guardians do with their wards.
Protocol changes by the state judiciary, made in the name of reform, weakened state oversight.
Three
employees in the Attorney General’s office are tasked with keeping a
watchful eye on more than 1,600 vulnerable individuals who have no
family members interested in their well-being.
Reform efforts
have come and gone with little to show, the result of repeated efforts
by judges and professional guardians to resist oversight changes. Those
efforts are being revived today.
“Good” guardians are sorely
needed, but the job often pays pennies and encourages professional
guardians to oversee as many wards as possible.
Progress is possible, and long overdue.
Attorney
General Dana Nessel’s Elder Abuse Task Force — a body of 100 officials,
lawyers, elder advocates and politicians — put forward several fixes to
improve life for the state’s elderly.
Of nine, two have been
realized — banks must now report suspected fraud of vulnerable adults
and there’s a new form for law enforcement to use when reporting that
fraud.
The other seven stalled in the House, “revised” by special
interest-influence to dilute caps on the number of wards a guardian can
be appointed to serve, remove requirements for guardians to personally
visit their wards and debate certifications for guardians and
conservators, including requirements for minimum training and
professional standards.
Lobby groups for those in the system, like for judges and guardians, opposed the initial recommendations.
This isn’t the end of the story, as all of us will be needed to fix what is broken.
We will continue our reporting on every side of this complicated problem.
But the answers can be simple if we let one principle guide us — who does the system serve and how does it serve them?
Edward Tricomi and Libra Max hold a picture of artist Peter Max.
Stephen Yang
Pop artist Peter Max, 84, father, animal advocate and Alzheimer’s victim.
Born Nazi Germany. Refugee, fled before the Holocaust. American
immigrant. Now — finances dwindling — under New York City
court-appointed guardianship.
I have reported this before.
Now daughter Libra asks to help what she calls a seemingly
“over-medicated Peter” and “involuntary daylong isolation” and “family
members requiring formal written request even for time limited,
surveilled visitation.” Phone’s removed. Pets removed. Health care proxy
family members are allegedly no longer privy to his medical
information.
Cited is camera surveillance 24 hours a day, no permission to visit
his own art studio, lifelong friends needing to sign an NDA before
addressing him.
