Oklahoma Unprepared for Looming Guardianship Crisis

by JC Hallman

In May, a headline caught the eye of Rena Denton, 96.

Denton was seated in her small, spare cinderblock room in Pauls Valley Health and Rehab, which she shares with her daughter, Karen Koonce, 76. It was a pleasure whenever mother and daughter received the latest edition of the Garvin County News Star.

But that headline, it hit home.

Eldercare Nightmare: A Tragic Family Story Raises the Specter of Widespread Guardianship Fraud.

“Well, it was a repeat of what we’ve lived out,” Denton said.

Not exactly, but the story of Rena Denton in Pauls Valley, and the story of Estelle Simonton in Harrah, suggest inadequacy in Oklahoma eldercare law in scale, implementation and awareness of existing statutes as the state’s aging population surges toward a crisis point.

A Nightmare All Their Own

After Denton finished reading the story about quadriplegic Vietnam vet Leroy Theodore, who was taken from his family in April and installed in a nursing home in Midwest City, she called Kive Kerr, who has been helping Denton and Koonce navigate a guardianship nightmare all their own. Kerr contacted Oklahoma Watch, which originally published Theodore’s story, and a visit to mother and daughter was arranged.

“I go over it and over it in my mind: why did he do this to me?” Denton said. “Why did he take everything I had?”

She meant Billy LeMay, a one-time family friend and former Halliburton executive who now operates a lawnmower repair store in Pauls Valley. Before March, Denton had lived in the same house since 1949, but there came a moment, she said, when she was unable to care for her daughter, who had begun to show signs of dementia. Koonce, in turn, was unable to care for her mother.

They turned to LeMay for help.

From there, versions of the story differ.

Kerr said LeMay got a doctor to sign papers saying the mother and daughter couldn’t care for themselves; he took their phones and hired a lawyer to draw up wills and secure power of attorney to take control of about $1 million in assets, Kerr said.

Kerr also said LeMay falsely told the women that their only living blood relatives, a pair of nieces in Georgia, did not want to hear from them; the lie was revealed when Denton got her phone back and called Kerr, he said.

It took months and vast resources to head off a legal assault that came close to robbing Denton of everything; even obtaining transcripts of legal proceedings in which an Adult Protective Services investigator accused LeMay of criminal behavior has been a slog, Kerr said.

For his part, LeMay claimed that staff at Norman Regional Hospital encouraged him to obtain guardianship over Denton and Koonce; the hospital provided him with instructions on how to do so, LeMay said. He said the APS investigator lied about him in court and that his role in the saga was about love, not money.

“I have not profited a nickel from this thing,” LeMay said.

Now, Denton’s nieces have been awarded guardianship.

The Most Fundamental Problem

Kerr claimed that in addition to the conflict with LeMay, the administrator at Denton’s nursing home also offered to become Denton’s guardian, an accusation the administrator denied.

Title 63, Oklahoma’s public health and safety laws, and Title 30, which governs guardianships, both specify that no court-appointed guardian can also be the owner or administrator of the nursing home in which a ward is housed unless the guardian is the spouse or close relative of the ward.

But ignorance of the law is the root of the guardianship problem.

William Whited, a former investigator with APS in the Oklahoma Department of Human Services, is now the state’s long-term care ombudsman, a role that was integrated into the Office of the Attorney General in 2024 to enhance the ability to investigate complaints and advocate for residents’ rights in nursing homes and assisted living facilities.

For Whited, this facet of Denton’s story involving the administrator was characteristic of a broader trend in Oklahoma eldercare law: the nuances of existing laws were not widely understood.

Whited had additional concerns. Oklahoma’s aging population loomed as a logistical crisis that would emerge as the number of guardianship proceedings rose.

“I know that this taxes the system,” Whited said. “It’s one of those things where maybe not everything that should be reviewed is reviewed. And I don’t know the answer to that.”

The human capital aspect of the problem had already arrived.

“There’s not enough judges to read all the reports,” Whited said. “There is not an entity or system that is set up to review those guardianships.”

The most fundamental problem of all was ignorance; staff members at hospitals, nursing homes and APS and DHS appeared to be unfamiliar with relevant statutes.

“I don’t think that they all do know the laws,” Whited said.

This Guy Cares About His Mother

“Basically, they kidnapped her,” Rep. Justin “J.J.” Humphrey, R-Lane, said of APS, in the case of Estelle Simonton, 91.

Humphrey’s interest in DHS had more to do with Child Protective Services than APS, but his office had received several complaints about guardianships, including one from Matthew Simonton, the son of Estelle Simonton.

“Lord knows, it’s been a lot of trouble for him,” Humphrey said. “The guy cares about his mother, that’s how it appears to me.”

Oklahoma law requires judges to seal guardianship cases, with only the existence of a guardianship not considered confidential. Everything else is available only to the parties involved and the judge.

Cases such as Simonton’s demonstrated the need for greater transparency in government, Humphrey said.

“When you find something like this case, and they’re not going to talk to you because it’s confidential, then how can we correct it when it’s wrong?” Humphrey said. “If they can hide everything because it’s all confidential, then who can hold them accountable?”

DHS has refused to comment on all of Oklahoma Watch’s reporting on guardianship abuse. In the case of Estelle Simonton, DHS Public Information Officer Carrie Snodgrass offered to provide a statement or arrange an interview, but only if Oklahoma Watch provided questions in advance.

Did Not Meet the Criteria

Estelle Simonton’s problems began as far back as 2003, when she became a widow.

Always a collector, Simonton’s Del City house became cluttered and more difficult to manage as she grew older, her son, Matthew Simonton, admitted. Her diabetes didn’t help, and manifested in her behavior if she didn’t eat properly.

She became friendly with her neighbors. Oklahoma Watch spoke to one neighbor who recalled Estelle Simonton’s frequent, amenable visits; another remembered a friendly, independent woman who bothered no one.

Nevertheless, someone started calling APS. Matthew Simonton said that he suspects another neighbor, but he doesn’t know for sure.

Matthew Simonton was granted durable power of attorney for his mother, limited to health care powers, in March 2023.

Relations with DHS grew strained. Matthew Simonton recorded video interviews in which Estelle Simonton related harrowing details of what she endured while in the care of others; he uploaded them to YouTube, only to have a judge order that they be removed from public view.

In June 2024, Matthew Simonton said, a confrontational ambulance call presaged another report to APS. DHS again visited Estelle Simonton’s home, alongside members of the Del City police department.

A subsequent DHS petition for an involuntary emergency protective order claimed that the home was found to be filthy, lacked air conditioning, and reeked of urine.

However, a police report on a welfare check at Estelle Simonton’s home a few days later concluded that her living conditions did not meet the criteria for an emergency order of detention.

Nevertheless, the following day, DHS conducted what Matthew Simonton characterized as a raid on his own home when his mother was visiting. After a tense confrontation, Estelle Simonton was taken to Wolfe Living Center at Summit Ridge in Harrah, where she has remained ever since.

A Dramatic Confrontation

Oklahoma Watch’s May story about Leroy Theodore documented a dramatic confrontation as nursing home staff in Midwest City called police in an attempt to prevent Theodore’s family from visiting him. The staff were unaware of a 2015 Attorney General opinion that expressly stated that legal guardians — APS or otherwise — were not empowered to restrict visitation with nursing home residents without a specific court order.

Midwest City police officers listened to all parties involved before overruling the nursing home staff and permitting a visit. On Father’s Day, Theodore’s family once again drove two and a half hours to visit him.

In early August, Oklahoma Watch learned that Theodore died while still under an APS guardianship. Theodore’s family members said they were not directly notified of his death; one of Theodore’s daughters learned of her father’s passing in a phone call with a reporter.

Nearly a month later, calls placed to APS, the hospital where Theodore died and the morgue where his remains are being held revealed that arrangements to return him to his family have not been made. Once again, a lack of familiarity with what the law provides when an individual dies under guardianship appears to have hobbled the effort to provide dignity and peace for the remains of a military veteran. 

Theodore’s remains continue to be held in a legal and logistical limbo.

I Should Have Some Rights

On August 4, the confrontation in Midwest City repeated almost exactly in Harrah when Oklahoma Watch accompanied Matthew Simonton as he attempted to visit his mother, Estelle Simonton.

Once again, nursing home staff appeared unaware of the 2015 attorney general’s opinion; manager David Carey claimed he was following instructions from APS, and called the Oklahoma County Sheriff’s Office in an attempt to restrict access.

Deputy sheriffs arrived, listened to all parties involved, and, as Del City police officers had done, facilitated a visit despite objections from highly agitated Wolfe Living Center staff members.

Estelle Simonton was palpably elated to see her son, clutching at his arm as though hanging from the edge of a cliff.

“I just want to go home,” Estelle Simonton said. “Do you understand my feelings? I don’t want anything from them. I just want my freedom.”

Throughout a prolonged visit, Estelle Simonton spoke in lengthy, complex sentences, demonstrating comprehensive awareness of her surroundings. She was uncertain of her age, but described vivid memories from more than eight decades previous. She recalled the circumstances in which she had been living when APS secured guardianship.

“I wasn’t crying and going on,” Estelle Simonton said. “I was taking care of my little dog, and we had some chickens. I was happy to take care of the place. I don’t know why they took me out of my house. I don’t know.”

Estelle Simonton understood both her limitations and what she believed her rights should be.

“If I have to, I’ll run away from here,” she said. “I don’t know exactly what I’ll do, but I should have some rights as an American citizen. It’s the law that is taking me away from my family, who I dearly love and haven’t seen in a while. It’s not right. It should be changed.”

It’s All We’ve Got Left

William Whited offered details on a pair of projects already on the books that could mitigate Oklahoma’s looming guardianship crisis.

Court-Appointed Advocates for Vulnerable Adults, detailed in Title 30, and the Office of Public Guardianship, part of DHS, offered promise, but neither was properly funded, Whited said.

CAAVA folded because no state appropriations were dedicated to it, Whited said; the Office of Public Guardianship was used only limitedly, yet in addition to eldercare, it applied to younger people with severe mental illness or profound physical disability.

Estelle Simonton did not complain about the care she was receiving at Wolfe Living Center. It’s a good place to be if you have to be taken care of, and the home didn’t do anything she believed to be illegal, she said. But she was angry that they were keeping her away from her son.

Rena Denton did not complain about the care she and her daughter were receiving at Pauls Valley Health and Rehab either.

“It’s peaceful here, they are good to us,” Denton said. “It’s our home now. It’s all we’ve got left.”

Denton had that, alongside the wisdom conferred by a life of experience.

“Beware of somebody coming and telling you that they’re going to take care of you and be your guardian,” Denton said. “Steer clear.”

Ed. Note: This story was updated on Sept. 4, 2025 to clarify WIlliam Whited’s work history. 

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Oklahoma Unprepared for Looming Guardianship Crisis 

Commission: No easy answers on guardianship crisis

A Supreme Court task force charged with recommending ways to reform the state’s guardianship/conservatorship system questioned Friday what can be learned from the pending federal embezzlement prosecution of Ayudando Guardians Inc. and its two principals who are charged with embezzling millions in client funds.

There were no immediate, easy answers.

“Our entire community has been rocked and outraged by the indictment,” said Wendy York, a retired Albuquerque state district judge who chairs the commission that was appointed in April by the state Supreme Court. “Ayudando, unfortunately, gives us a template for recommendations …”

York also noted that a representative from Ayudando earlier this year “made certain statements that may turn out not to be true.”

Sharon Moore, Ayudando’s chief financial officer, told commissioners in May that Ayudando was audited yearly by the New Mexico Office of Guardianship, which serves indigent clients. But an official from that office recently told the Journal the audits aren’t financial but are essentially program reviews of a guardian contractor’s staffing, policies and procedures.

Commission members hope to come up with initial recommendations for reforms by Oct. 1. Those could include recommendations for more detailed annual reports from the guardians and conservators appointed by judges around the state for adults deemed mentally incapacitated.

Commissioner Jorja Armijo-Brasher, director of Albuquerque Department of Senior Affairs, said the commission needs to figure out “what’s missing in the process so we don’t let this (Ayudando case) happen in the future.”

Tim Gardner, an attorney with the Disability Rights New Mexico, told his fellow commissioners, “I think the risk has always been there.” He said sometimes guardians and conservators file the required annual financial or guardianship reports to the court about their clients, but sometimes they don’t. Sometimes judges have the time to read the reports, he said, but sometimes they don’t.

With the state’s courts financially strained, “There’s almost never a verified audit,” Gardner said. “The system is not there to prevent this from happening.”

Commissioner state District Judge Nancy Franchini, of Bernalillo County, said she understands that Ayudando defendants, which include Moore and Ayudando president Susan Harris, were indicted solely because of alleged embezzlement of Veterans Affairs and Social Security benefits they managed for their clients. A federal indictment unsealed July 19 contends that at least 10 veterans were victims of the scheme. Losses have been estimated at $4 million or more.

“When all this came down, it was only regarding federal money. There’s nobody as far as I know who’s investigated the state money” that may also be missing, Franchini added.

The Journal earlier this week posed several questions to the U.S. Marshals Office, which is overseeing the agency’s operations under court order.

But in an email Friday, the U.S. Attorney’s Office and Marshals Service declined to answer them, noting that the Department of Justice policy “generally prohibits us from disclosing information that is not a matter of public record.”

“Ayudando clients will receive notices as part of the transfer process to new representative-payee or guardianship service providers,” the email stated. “The Marshals Service anticipates that it will close the physical Ayudando office at some point, but it will continue to oversee Ayudando’s business affairs and to ensure clients receive necessary services as ordered by the courts. The U.S. Marshals Service is committed to ensuring that all Ayudando clients continue to receive the services they need and deserve.”

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Commission: No easy answers on guardianship crisis

Solution to guardianship crisis? Advocates say cap fees

Despite a new state law and local safeguards, such as a fraud investigator, advocates for guardianship reform say the system remains broken — almost hopelessly so.

Without serious changes, unethical court-appointed guardians and their attorneys can operate with impunity, draining bank accounts of seniors and isolating them from loved ones. And if the judiciary is compromised, there’s no stopping the abuse, advocates say.

Elizabeth Savitt

Solutions are complex but reformers focus on three areas: putting a cap on fees, drafting a type of Bill of Rights for seniors that will give them and their families more say in guardianships and giving the state the power to weed out bad actors. A bill reintroduced in the Legislature for the current session would for the first time give the state real regulatory authority over guardians.

And there’s good reason to reign in the professional guardianship industry in Florida, which saw a boom after the last recession. The number of registered guardians swelled from 108 in 2003 to 457 last year, according to the Department of Elder Affairs.

“Guardianship is a business and it’s a big business and it’s tremendously profitable,” said Dr. Sam Sugar, co-founder of Americans Against Abusive Probate Guardianship.

No amount of legislation will do anything, however, if judges refuse to take advantage of the laws to crack down on unethical guardians.

In The Post’s recent stories about Judge Martin Colin and his wife, guardian Elizabeth “Betsy” Savitt, families of seniors in guardianship say in court documents and interviews with The Post that Savitt took advantage of her position as a guardian. They said the judge’s wife went after the life savings of their loved ones through unnecessary litigation, double-billing and taking fees for herself and her lawyers without prior court approval.

Right now, the Department of Elder Affairs can do little about unscrupulous professional guardians.

“The department does not have any authority over professional guardians,” said spokeswoman Ashley Chambers. “This is a profession that we do not regulate and have no jurisdiction.”

The pending bill seeks to address this. Senate Bill 232, sponsored by Sen. Nancy Detert, R-Venice, would create the Office of Public and Professional Guardians under the Department of Elder Affairs and give it oversight of professional guardians. The executive director would develop and enforce standards for professional guardians.

The office would regularly monitor guardians’ activities and do reviews that are different from the annual financial audits that the Clerk & Comptroller’s Office does. It also would investigate complaints about the guardians. If an investigation finds the complaint is justified, the executive director could discipline the guardians, including revoking their registration, which would make them ineligible for court appointment.

“Somebody has found a cottage industry, and they are not targeting the poor people,” Detert was quoted by The Florida Bar News last year.

Capping fees
But advocates say the reforms need to hit unscrupulous guardians and their attorneys in the pocketbook in order to dampen the current profit motive in guardianships.

Among the most radical solutions proposed in Florida is a constitutional amendment to cap the fees of guardians and especially their attorneys. If guardians can’t keep going back to a seniors’ account for money, they’ll be motivated to block unnecessary legal work and get their own work done more efficiently, advocates say.

Fees for professional guardians are set by the judicial circuit in each county. In Palm Beach County, it ranges from $50 to $95 per hour, guardians told the Post. Attorney fees, though, routinely range from $250 to $450 an hour, and guardianship cases are replete with lawyers.

The guardian, the ward and various family members may all be represented by lawyers who seek to be paid out of the savings of the incapacitated individual. A conference call with all the stakeholders can easily run $1,000 an hour, turning routine matters into a money machine for the lawyers involved.

Americans Against Abusive Probate Guardianship is considering ways to gather more than 680,000 signatures needed to put such a measure on the ballot to change the Florida Constitution.

“If you have a cap on the fees, there is going to be less guardianships, not as much abuse and the elderly will be able to stay with their families,” said Lidya Abramovici, a co-founder of the Aventura-based group. “That is the way it is in other countries.”

Caps could be fashioned after state laws that limit the amount of money attorneys can collect in medical malpractice cases — possibly 30 percent of the senior’s annual budget or 5 percent of the senior’s assets. The group’s proposal also would limit payments to one attorney, Sugar said.
Some professional guardians, however, striving to do their best for a senior while working with often-conflicting family members, object to the proposal.

Fernando Gutierrez, a director of the GuardianAssociation of Pinellas County, said capping fees would be arbitrary and capricious because fees for guardians vary from county to county.

“Maybe, it’s time for a uniform fee schedule,” he said. “The major drawback to this system is making revisions that reflect fair compensation amounts. Capping guardian fees would make sense, only if a Florida statute would require the chief judges of each district to review and implement new fees every five years.”

Sugar said it is up to the judges and prosecutors, though, to order penalties. “We desperately need prosecution of the worst offenders to set an example and dissuade others,” he said.

Let seniors decide
To offset problems that can arise when a guardian takes charge, a reform gaining national attention is called “supported decision-making.”

It lets seniors decide where they live and how much financial help they need through a type of Bill of Rights. The approach automatically considers alternatives to guardianship, such as giving a family member power of attorney. Texas and other states are considering incorporating the approach into guardianship laws.

Even the United Nations has chimed in, stating, “With supported decision-making, the presumption is always in favor of the person with a disability who will be affected by the decision.”

“It needs to be translated into state legislative statutes,” Sugar said.

But Jetta Getty, former president of the Florida State Guardianship Association, said current laws are enough and that the industry is being unfairly maligned.

“Less than 1 percent of professional guardians have any black marks or infractions,” the Daytona Beach professional guardian said. “This is a judicial problem. I believe statutes already present give the courts full authority to rectify the problems that are being highlighted.”

Local fraud investigator
On a local level, Palm Beach County Clerk and Comptroller Sharon Bock established a fraud hotline and hired an auditor in 2011 to look into complaints. The clerk’s inspector general audits and investigates professional guardians, non-professional guardians, family members, attorneys, caregivers and anyone else suspected of exploiting a person under guardianship.

Bock’s office says it has investigated more than 900 cases and uncovered more than $4.5 million in questionable expenditures.

“Even a small amount of fraud is really intolerable,” Bock said. “When we get to the point that all guardians are invested in the outcome of protecting the ward, then we have really reached our goal.”

Sugar said he routinely hears complaints from Palm Beach County about professional guardians.

He said it is important for the public to understand that when a senior is put under plenary guardianship that they lose all rights, that they are “dead in the eyes of law.” The guardian can determine where they live, how they spend their money and — most importantly — their medical care.

“It just seems like every day we hear about something more egregious,” said Martha T.S. Laham, author of The Con Game: A Failure of Trust. “It’s a matter of the individual’s basic rights. They strip these from them in a matter of minutes and reduce them to the status of an infant.”

Easy to qualify
Laham, a professor at Diablo Valley College in Pleasant Hill, Calif., said some states are toughening qualification standards for guardians. Savitt was a tennis pro and became a guardian after 40 hours of training, a test and a credit and criminal background check.

Guardians need to be monitored much more strictly. Judges need to look at the credentials of guardians prior to appointment and then follow up to make sure the senior’s finances aren’t being abused, she said.

There are ways for families and seniors to protect themselves from falling prey to predatory guardianship. That is to set up a defined power-of-attorney and pre-need directives for the senior long before senility sets in. Some advocates claim that such planning would eliminate the need for guardianships for the vast majority of seniors.

How do these thwart aggressive professional guardians? Families only need to look to the precedent-setting Palm Beach County case of J. Alan Smith recently decided by the 4th District Court of Appeal in West Palm Beach.

The appellate court found that Smith’s pre-need directives naming his new wife, Glenda Martinez, his health-care surrogate trumped all of the claims of the guardian and his attorney. The guardian successfully sought to annul the marriage but not the pre-need directive.

“That decision was badly needed in guardianship law here in Florida,” said Martinez’s attorney, Jennifer Carroll. “The personal wishes of the ward somehow disappear over time and become irrelevant in the guardianship proceeding and all the players in the system lose sight of that fundamental principle.”  (Continue Reading)

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Solution to guardianship crisis? Advocates say cap fees