The caregiver was removed after allowing the ward to call a friend overseas.
Christine Lagisquet, 92, at her home in Brandon, Florida, on Aug. 9. [ Hannah Critchfield ]
By Hannah Critchfield
A caretaker of a 92-year-old woman who is attempting to
fight her guardianship said she was fired last week after allowing the
older woman to speak with a friend who lives overseas.
Georgina James, 53, said she was terminated from her position caring for Brandon resident Christine Lagisquet on Sept. 3.
Lagisquet, who was featured in a recent Tampa Bay Times story,
is under emergency temporary guardianship. Her son alleges she has
dementia. She has been fighting to keep the legal arrangement, which
places all aspects of her civil rights in the hands of a professional
guardian, from becoming permanent.
Due to a court order, friends must now get permission from
her guardian, with consent from her attorney, before seeing or speaking
with Lagisquet. Her guardianplaced caretakers at her home to provide round-the-clock supervision.
James
said Mind & Mobility Home Care told her she was being removed from
the position at the request of Lagisquet’s guardian, Susan Whitney,
because she had allowed Lagisquet to speak with her friend Dominque
Lucbernet, who lives in Paris.
“But her attorney told me
she was allowed to call her friend in France,” James said. “I’m good at
my job. They have no reason to fire me.”
She was also
simultaneously removed from her position caring for another one of
Whitney’s wards, she said. When called, a representative of the care
agency said they would respond to emailed questions. That has not
happened yet. Jonathan Hackworth, Lagisquet’s attorney, declined to
comment.
Gerald Hemness, the guardian’s attorney, confirmed that James was fired.
“When
a care provider does not clear her actions with Ms. Whitney, it is
entirely possible that she will be terminated,” Hemness said.
Guardianships should be understood through the lens of a parent-child relationship, he said.
“If
you want to give a child a peanut butter sandwich, all you have to do
is call the parent and see if it’s okay,” Hemness said. “It’s simple.
But when they don’t ask, I’ll tell you why: They don’t like the answer
the parent is going to provide.”
James said she was taken aback by the removal, and by Lagisquet’s situation.
“I’ve
been a caretaker for over 12 years — I’ve worked with families that are
fighting about money, I’ve worked with a judge, I’ve worked in
facilities and I’ve never seen anything like this,” James said. “They’ve
just dirtied everybody around her — her friend of 30-something years,
her neighbors. Now they’ve made me look dirty.
“It’s heartbreaking because she’s lovely, and she’s being isolated,” she added.
Georgina James, 53, was removed from her job caring for Christine Lagisquet on Sept. 3. [ Courtesy of Georgina James ]
James, a patient care technician, said she doesn’t believe Lagisquet needs the level of supervision she is currently receiving.
“She
needs somebody to take her to the grocery store, and probably to help
her with her bills and help her manage her money, but she doesn’t need
24-hour guardianship,” James said, estimating that round-the-clock
caretakers are costing Lagisquet around $768 daily. “If this continues,
this lady will have no money, and she’s going to be thrown in a nursing
home.”
Caring for Whitney’s wards took up the bulk of her
36-hour work week, James said. The agency offered to assign her new
jobs, she said, but she no longer feels comfortable working with the
company after being removed at a guardian’s request.
Working in a health care field rife with staff shortages, she said she has other options.
“You wouldn’t leave a toddler alone,” her guardian’s lawyer said.
Christine Lagisquet, 92, at her home in Brandon, Florida, on Aug. 9. [ Hannah Critchfield ]
By Hannah Critchfield
In late July, Christine Lagisquet was bidding her friend Stephanie Figueredo goodbye at the door of her Brandon home.
The
92-year-old’s kitchen was stocked from her recent trip to the grocery
store — replete with smoked salmon and the cheeses that remind her of
her childhood home in Bordeaux, France.
That’s when Figueredo noticed a stranger standing outside.
The woman had pixie-short hair and a purple polo shirt that read, “Florida Professional Guardian Services.”
Her
name was Susan Whitney, and she told Figueredo she had been court
appointed as Mrs. Lagisquet’s temporary guardian. Whitney took the older
woman’s car keys. She would be back within the week for Mrs.
Lagisquet’s credit cards.
“I’m like her mom now,” she explained, according to Mrs.
Lagisquet and Figueredo. Unbeknownst to Mrs. Lagisquet, her son had
alleged she was mentally incapacitated and filed a request to place her
under guardianship — a legal process that cedes control of a person’s
decision-making power to others.
A judge had temporarily
stripped her of nearly all her civil rights — including her ability to
vote, handle her finances or determine her housing.
Guardianships
are particularly common for older adults with severe dementia or other
cognitive impairments. A 2018 AARP analysis estimated that 1.3 million adults in the United States are under guardianships. Eighty-five percent of them are over age 65.
The need is expected to grow
as one in five residents reaches retirement age by 2030. But critics
say it’s too easy to fall into the guardianship system, and once a court
views someone as “incompetent,” it can be hard to regain control.
Mrs.
Lagisquet’s situation is a case study, her supporters say. Her
experience demonstrates how harsh a measure guardianship can be for the
person within it.
Mrs. Lagisquet is fighting to keep her
guardianship from becoming permanent. Three evaluators have weighed in
on her “incapacity” ahead of a hearing next month.
”I feel like a prisoner, oui,” she said. “How would you feel, stuck in here without any possibility to get out?”
In the state of Florida, anyone can nominate any other adult to be placed in a guardianship.
Ideally,
it’s meant to protect vulnerable people who cannot make decisions for
themselves. Recent cases like those of Britney Spears and Rebecca
Fierle, a former professional guardian in Orlando charged with abuse and
neglect, have raised questions about whether the system always
functions as intended.
Many people are under guardianship
who shouldn’t be, said Viviana Bonilla López, an attorney at Disability
Rights Florida and a member of the newly launched Guardianship Improvement Task Force. “It’s troubling to me how easy it is to do.”
Temporary
guardianships usually become permanent, according to Pamela Teaster,
the director of the Center for Gerontology at Virginia Tech and one of
the foremost researchers on guardianships.
Teaster said a lack of data collection on guardianships
nationally makes it hard to vet critics’ claims that the system is
nefarious. “I don’t have data to support it either way,” she said, “but
in my experience, the vast majority are there because there’s a real,
emergent situation.”
Typically, the estate of the person
under the guardianship pays the fees of everyone involved, from their
guardian, to their guardian’s lawyer, to their own attorney, to the
petitioner’s attorney.
Mrs. Lagisquet has not yet been billed in her case,
according to court filings, but Whitney has charged her wards up to $120
an hour, records show. The expenses add up. Wards pay when a guardian
listens to voicemails or reads emails from anyone who contacts them
related to the person’s case.
Whitney’s attorney, Gerald
Hemness, said that fees vary under state law based on several factors,
including how complex a case is and how much it interferes with a
guardian’s ability to handle other cases. The more burdensome a
guardianship, the more entitled a guardian is to a higher fee. (A call
he took from the Tampa Bay Times will be billed as a small fee to Mrs. Lagisquet, he said.)
The case itself
Pierre
Lagisquet filed his request to place his mother under emergency
guardianship and consider her for permanent guardianship on July 14. He
alleged that she suffers from “dementia, paranoid, and other aging
related disorders and is unable to care for or make decisions for
herself,” according to court records. Pierre Lagisquet did not respond
to requests for comment, and his attorney Ying Gao said they would not
discuss the ongoing case.
A copy of Christine Lagisquet’s
trust was included in the filings, demonstrating she could pay the
legal fees of those involved in the process. Her home was valued at
$178,014, and she has $84,000 in a bank account. Her assets in cash were
listed as “TBD.” No court filings indicate that Pierre Lagisquet
submitted medical records to prove a dementia diagnosis.
Mrs. Lagisquet says she’s never received one. Her son listed
Fabio Ferrari, a gynecologist, as her primary doctor. Medical records
from a May 10 consult with the physician provided to the Times
marked Mrs. Lagisquet as having “normal” neurological and psychological
functioning. It also noted she did not display signs of depression or
mental distress.Emergency temporary guardianships are granted if the
court finds that there is “imminent danger” requiring immediate action.
The person who is alleged to be incapacitated is supposed to be notified
at least 24 hours before an emergency hearing, according to state law.
An exception can occur if the person filing the petition demonstrates
that “substantial harm to the alleged incapacitated person would occur
if the 24-hour notice is given.”
Pierre Lagisquet’s claim
that his mother was in imminent danger hinged on three points,
according to court documents: First, she’d had multiple instances of
bleeding and needed a check-up, as the physician suspected cancer.
The
petition also alleges Mrs. Lagisquet was trying to sell her home at the
suggestion of a man who worked on her yard and said she should “move in
with him and his family in Palm Beach.” When Mrs. Lagisquet tried to
list her home in Brandon, the real estate agent called Pierre Lagisquet
out of concern for her mental capacity. The family ran a public records
search and found that the gardener had been convicted of crimes,
including several felonies in 2014.
The family also found an address for him in Brandon, not Palm Beach.
Mrs.
Lagisquet, according to the petition, was “at extremely high risk of
financial exploitation and potential physical harm if she left” with
him. The Times confirmed that the man is living in West Palm Beach, at his sister’s home.
Finally,
the petition alleges that Mrs. Lagisquet used to dress herself
“meticulously and stylishly every day,” but “has not been able to do so
for herself for the last year.”
Christine Lagisquet said
she’d declined a biopsy because she didn’t want to be on an operating
table at her age — and if she did have cancer, she had no interest in
going through treatment. Medical records from the May 10 consult
corroborate this claim.
“Any further steps are on her
terms and what she deems important,” Ferrari wrote in summarizing a
conversation he’d had with Pierre Lagisquet’s wife.
Mrs.
Lagisquet said the man who mowed her lawn told her about his criminal
history when she hired him. He visited with her often, occasionally
drove her to errands and had become like family. So when he told her he
was moving to West Palm Beach and suggested she look for houses too, she
thought, why not? She didn’t like her tiny house in Brandon and didn’t
feel connected to her son, who was her only child and lived next door.
She said she never planned to live with her gardener’s
family, and he never asked her for money beyond the lawn service he
provided. She said she wasn’t even trying to move to Palm Beach anymore.
The houses were too expensive.
The gardener, Michael
Wright, corroborated Mrs. Lagisquet’s account. He’d moved to West Palm
Beach in February, he said, but said he still drives to Brandon every
two weeks to mow Mrs. Lagisquet’s lawn.
“It’s because she’s my friend,” Wright said. “I love that lady.”
Christine Lagisquet and Michael Wright in a waiting room ahead of one of Lagisquet's doctor appointments. [ Credit: Michael Wright ]
Wright said his most recent convictions stemmed from turning
in a forged check at a time when he was homeless and struggling with
addiction.
“But the morning of my arrest was the last
time I had alcohol,” he said. “It was a new beginning for me. And I told
Christine all that.”
He saw her four or five times a week prior to the move, he said.
“Does
she need a ride to the grocery store? Yes, she does,” Wright said. “But
she mops her whole freakin’ floor by herself, she cleans her house
herself, she does her laundry by herself. She just can’t drive.”
Wright said he had not invited her to move in with him at his sister’s home.
“I
mean, I just want her happy,” he said. “I don’t care if it’s here,
there. I don’t care if it’s in Alaska. As long as she’s happy, you
know?”
Figueredo, 47, acknowledged that these days, Mrs.
Lagisquet opts for linen pants that are more comfortable to wear around
the house than some of the fancier clothes she has in her closet. She
and Mrs. Lagisquet both say Mrs. Lagisquet still dresses herself each
morning, in addition to applying makeup daily.
A hearing
was held via Zoom on July 15, the day after Pierre Lagisquet filed his
petition — notifications were sent to Pierre Lagisquet and his lawyer.
The judge granted his emergency motion the next day, appointing Whitney
as temporary guardian. Her order said there appeared to be imminent
danger.
Mrs. Lagisquet was not served until July 20.
Concerns and confusion
Though
she lives next to her son, Christine Lagisquet told friends that he
rarely visited. She had moved from Orlando after the death of her
husband Jacques in 2017. People who came to her house several times a
week, like her friend Figueredo and neighbor Beverly Okonek, 75, say
they had not seen Pierre stop by.
Jacques Lagisquet had a
long career as a civil engineer. Five friends and neighbors said they
felt concerned that the family was attempting to preserve the assets he
left behind at the expense of Mrs. Lagisquet’s emotional well being.
They said Christine Lagisquet seems lucid. None of them
could recall a moment when they’d felt concerned about her mental
capacity and noted that she recalled dates easily. Wouldn’t they know if
something was wrong?
Hemness, her guardian’s attorney, said Mrs. Lagisquet is “definitely not perfectly fine.”
“She has several indicators that indicate she’s got capacity problems, I’ll leave it at that,” he said.
Guardianships are complicated, as are the health conditions that often spark them, according to Teaster of Virginia Tech.
“Often
people will say, ‘Well, she’s just sharp as a tack!’” Teaster said.
“It’s an opinion of the moment, but it’s not necessarily an accurate one
— or it is. The problem is you don’t know.”
It’s why guardianship examinations are so important, said Teaster.
Language issues
To
put someone in a guardianship permanently in Florida, the person
alleged to be incapacitated must undergo three examinations to determine
mental and physical condition.
This worries Mrs.
Lagisquet. She said her evaluations were conducted in English while
French is her native language. When she gets excited, she’ll sometimes
revert to French — something friends said she has done for years.
When
her son calls, they speak in French, according to neighbor Okonek, who
would visit Mrs. Lagisquet around three times a week.
The guardianship petition Pierre Lagisquet filed lists his mother’s primary spoken language as “English.”
A
longtime friend of Mrs. Lagisquet who lives in France, Dominique
Lucbernet, emailed lawyer Hemness suggesting that they hire a French
translator.
“Susan Whitney has no trouble communicating
with Ms. Lagisquet, and they get along well,” Hemness replied, according
to emails obtained by the Times.
State law says
the examining committee must communicate with someone in a language they
are fully capable of understanding, according to Bonilla López.
In an interview with the Times, Hemness said Mrs. Lagisquet is “very capable of interacting and communicating in English.”
According
to a court document filed on Aug. 12, two of the evaluators determined
that a plenary guardianship was necessary — meaning her guardian will
control all aspects of her life. One recommended a limited guardianship,
which would leave Mrs. Lagisquet only with the right to vote and make
decisions about her social life.
Christine Lagisquet, 92, at her home in Brandon on Aug. 9. [ Hannah Critchfield ]
Right to risk?
Mrs. Lagisquet acknowledged that her son, or a judge, might not understand her choices. But they’re hers, she said.
“If the doctors think I have dementia, they’re the ones who are crazy, not me,” she said with a tap on her kitchen table.
Hemness told the Times
that Mrs. Lagisquet has “valuable property in her home.” This includes a
large amount of cash, according to emails obtained by the Times.
It’s more than what she needs to pay bills and isn’t safe, he wrote to Lucbernet on Aug. 2.
During
the Nazi occupation of France, Mrs. Lagisquet’s parents lost
“everything” because they would not do business with the Germans,
Lucbernet said. And, she said, it’s a cultural norm for many French people to keep large amounts of cash at home.
Just because someone has a disability doesn’t mean they’re incapable of managing all aspects of their life, Bonilla López said.
People
should consider less restrictive options before attempting to place
someone under a guardianship, she said.”I’m against depriving people of
their civil liberties,” said Gao, Pierre Lagisquet’s attorney.
“Guardianship is a very harsh measure. But sometimes it is necessary.”
Mrs.
Lagisquet has attempted to hire a lawyer of her choosing, rather than
her court-appointed attorney Jonathan Hackworth. An alternative lawyer
filed a notice of appearance and motion on her behalf on Aug. 12, and an
emergency hearing was held over Zoom three hours later.
This time, Mrs. Lagisquet was present, observing from a
phone screen inside her home. But according to a court document filed by
Circuit Court Judge Richard Weis, she “was unable to recognize” or
“recall ever meeting” with either attorney.
The lawyer she wanted to hire withdrew his motion after the hearing.
Lucbernet
said that Mrs. Lagisquet told her shortly after that she could not make
out the faces of anyone on the call because the screen icons were too
small.
“She is 92 and had never used Zoom before!” Lucbernet later told the Times.
“They are treating her like she is a 2-month-old baby. But when a baby
cries, someone intervenes. She cannot cry, because nobody will do
anything.”
Limiting restrictions
After the Times
reached out to Hackworth about Mrs. Lagisquet’s evaluations on Aug. 10,
Whitney’s attorney Hemness contacted the newsroom. Hemness stated that
the Times was not authorized to speak with Mrs. Lagisquet without
his client’s consent, or publish any of Mrs. Lagisquet’s personal
information.
The same day, Whitney informed Figueredo
that she was no longer able to see or speak to Mrs. Lagisquet without
permission, Figueredo said.
“She never flat-out told me
to not email or call [Mrs. Lagisquet] until then,” Figueredo said. “Even
though she knew I was going over there regularly.”
Two days later, Whitney placed a 24-hour caretaker at Mrs.
Lagisquet’s house. The same week, Mrs. Lagisquet lost her ability to
make unauthorized phone calls.
“It’s so whacky, it’s got
to be something out of a cartoon,” said Tim Okonek, Beverly Okonek’s
husband. Neither of them has been allowed to see Mrs. Lagisquet. “It
just happened so quickly. How is that legal, to take away all her
individual First Amendment rights without her day in court? That’s not
America.”
According to several people who have tried to
reach her by phone, her incoming calls are now forwarded to Hemness.
Wright said he received a call from Hemness informing him he was not
allowed to call Mrs. Lagisquet anymore.
On Aug. 13,
Lucbernet arrived at Tampa International Airport from Paris. She said
Mrs. Lagisquet was fearful and had asked her to come. She was turned
away at Mrs. Lagisquet’s door. Hemness said visits must be coordinated,
in advance, with Whitney.
Hemness said they had not
planned to place a round-the-clock attendant with Mrs. Lagisquet, but
they deemed it necessary as “events unfolded and strange things
occurred” concerning the behaviors of others. One friend took her out of
the home without their knowledge, others had been contacting her with
“with some things that cause us concern.”
It’s not
uncommon for a person under guardianship to experience significant
changes to their ability to see others after they become a ward of the
state, particularly as loved ones and guardians may clash over what
actions they believe are best for the ward.
“It’s a tragedy how much time is being put into this case
because of the various people that are out there — people that are
agitating Ms. Lagisquet, people who are trying to involve themselves in
the process inappropriately,” said Hemness. “It causes us an awful lot
of extra work, and it’s going to cost Ms. Lagisquet an awful lot of
extra money.”
Hemness said he and Whitney are just doing
the job the court appointed them to do — to keep Mrs. Lagisquet and her
property secure. “If we’re not absolutely 100 percent certain that the
ward is going to be safe, I’m not going to allow you to have
unsupervised contact with her,” he said. “Think of it like a toddler —
you would not leave a toddler.”
In the fallout, Mrs. Lagisquet’s world has narrowed. A video and note obtained by the Times suggest she is confused about why she cannot speak to loved ones, or why this is happening to her.
An Aug. 17 court order now states that only Whitney, Hackworth and
caretakers can contact Mrs. Lagisquet without obtaining prior permission
from Whitney, with the consent of Hackworth. If either denies anyone
access to Mrs. Lagisquet, the court must be notified “immediately” and a
hearing must be set on the issue.
“When an order’s written that way, I have an obligation to
my client to make sure that no one is able to come into her house that
isn’t in her best interest,” said Hackworth, Mrs. Lagisquet’s attorney.
“If someone’s known her for years, I’ve made good faith efforts to
coordinate that contact.”
Moving to a home
If
the situation continues to escalate, Hemness said he and the guardian
may move Mrs. Lagisquet into an assisted living facility.
“And
that would be a tragedy,” he said. “She has plenty of money to stay in
her home. She is happy in her home. We would rather she stay in her
home. But some of those outside people are doing things that are making
some of the care providers very uncomfortable.”
A note Christine Lagisquet wrote and gave to Randy
Markham after fleeing her house on Aug. 17. Markham took a photo of the
note and returned it, at Whitney's request, to the caretaker who came
after her. [ Credit: Randy Markham ]
Mrs. Lagisquet has fled to her next-door neighbor and friend Randy
Markham’s home at least four times since caretakers were placed at her
home, according to Markham — an action that could be perceived as a sign
of desperation, or used as evidence of incompetence in a future court
hearing.
