Sunday, November 21, 2021

Woman gets 20 years after stealing millions from autistic man while posing as lawyer


Forty-five-year-old Kristina Galjour pleaded guilty to theft of more than $25,000 and three counts of practicing law without a license.

 
By Adam Barnes

Story at a glance

  • A woman was sentenced to 20 years in prison after pleading guilty to posing as an attorney to steal $2 million from an autistic man’s trust fund.
  • Galjour reportedly began identifying herself as an attorney in 2016 after the man’s parents died in 2015, before convincing him to give her power of attorney.
  • Prosecutors said she then began to drain his assets.

A woman was sentenced to 20 years in prison after pleading guilty to posing as an attorney in an attempt to steal $2 million from an autistic man’s trust fund. 

Forty-five-year-old Kristina Galjour pleaded guilty to theft of more than $25,000 and three counts of practicing law without a license, according to court records viewed by Nola.com. Galjour’s guilty plea also includes crimes committed against five other people. 

Galjour reportedly began identifying herself as an attorney in 2016 after the man’s parents died — leaving him a trust fund and a home —  before convincing him to give her power of attorney. Prosecutors said she then began to drain his assets. 

The outlet reported that Galjour allegedly used the money she siphoned to cover a variety of purchases, including a Jaguar. And in 2017, she reportedly convinced him to give her control of his home after telling him a group of neighbors was trying to have him committed to an institution. She drained his assets by the time he reported the thefts, the outlet noted. 

Galjour was arrested in 2019. 

Judge Frank Brindisi ordered Galjour to pay restitution to all of the victims, including $1.3 million to the man, court records said, per Nola. 

"He's a little bit in shock," Erica Dudas, a neighbor and advocate for the 59-year-old man, told the outlet. "I'm glad it's over, and he finally understands that people believe him over her.

Full Article & Source:

Louisiana Paralegal Sentenced to 20 Years In Prison For Defrauding Autistic Man Of $2M

Kristina Galjour, 45, who “purported to be an attorney” in an attempt to drain a special needs man's trust fund, was found guilty this week by a Jefferson Parish judge. 

 
By Dorian Geiger

Kristina Galjour Photo: Jefferson Parish Sheriff’s Office

A Louisiana woman who falsely posed as a lawyer to swindle a $2 million trust fund from an autistic man will spend two decades behind bars. 

Kristina Galjour was sentenced to 20 years in prison on Monday for draining the trust fund of a special needs man in Jefferson Parish. 

The 45-year-old paralegal, who falsely “purported to be an attorney,” spent the man’s inheritance on travel, clothes, and a luxury sports car, after misleading him into signing over power of attorney to her, according to a police report obtained by Oxygen.com. 

She pleaded guilty to theft over $25,000 and practicing law without a license on Nov. 15, additional court documents show. 

In 2015, the victim inherited the trust and two properties when his parents passed away, according to a police report obtained by Oxygen.com. Real estate planning firm Legacy Law Center, where Galjour worked, had been appointed to oversee the trust. Galjour, who isn’t licensed to practice law, prosecutors said, later falsely presented herself as a real estate lawyer to the unsuspecting man. 

“Galjour inserted herself into [victim’s] trust and informed him, she was his attorney and that he needed to sign documents giving her full authority to oversee the trust in his best interests,” the police report stated. “Galjour was in fact misleading [victim] to steal his $2,000,000 trust.”

Galjour ultimately convinced the man to sign over his New Orleans home to her. According to the Times-Picayune, Galjour invented a story about a fictitious group of malevolent neighbors, who were plotting to have the victim committed to a mental institution. The paralegal led the man to believe the only way to salvage his property was to put the property in her name.

As a result, one of the victim’s homes went into foreclosure due to a “delinquent second mortgage she opened illegally,” detectives wrote in charging documents. 

Prosecutors say Galjour spent the man’s money on lavish parties, clothing, and even purchased a Jaguar in the man’s name.

A warrant was first issued for Galjour in March 2020. On Monday, Galjour was ordered by a district judge presiding over the case to pay $1.3 in restitution to her victim, sentencing documents show.

"He's a little bit in shock," Erica Dudas, a neighbor and advocate for the man, told the Times-Picayune. "I'm glad it's over, and he finally understands that people believe him over her."

Dudas said there is also litigation in the works to retrieve his parents’ home.

"I'm confident that [his] life will get better, and we can open a new chapter," she told the newspaper.

Galjour is also required to pay $14,500 in restitution to five other victims in the case. Eight other charges, ranging from bank fraud, money laundering, and exploitation of the infirmed, were dismissed in exchange for her guilty plea.

“With the criminal case against our former paralegal Kristina Galjour now over, I am thankful that some level of justice has been served in this case as my practice is also a victim of Ms. Galjour’s crimes,” Chris Kane, who founded Legacy Law Center since 2016, said in a statement sent to Oxygen.com. 

Kane said Galjour was “immediately terminated” in 2018 after his firm learned of the fraud. The estate planning attorney later notified the victim, he said, who then ended his relationship with the real estate firm.

“Ms. Gajour was skilled at covering her tracks and she actively concealed her relationship and communications with the victim in this case,” Kane added. “We are glad the victim finally saw his relationship with Ms. Galjour for what it was when he decided to come forward in late 2019 and we are glad that Ms. Galjour is suffering the consequences of her actions.”

The Jefferson Parish District Attorney’s Office declined to comment further on the case following Galjour’s sentencing this week. 

Full Article & Source:

Resident groups step up to support caregivers

By Andrea Davis

In the Village of Lake Deaton, Kerry Hughes, left, and Cort Cheney take apart a bed as member of the Pickleballers Helping Seniors.


Caregivers sacrifice more than they let on.

Taking care of a loved one is a 24-hour-a-day job. Breaks are difficult or impossible to come by.

But caregivers living in The Villages can find support in neighbors, friends, support groups and nonprofits.

The 2020 update for AARP Family Caregiving reveals that the number of family caregivers in the U.S. increased by 9.5 million from 2015 to 2020, reaching 53 million. More than 1 in 5 Americans are family caregivers.

AARP Florida State Director Jeff Johnson believes that number will continue to grow as more of the population moves into a phase of life where help is needed to live independently.

"While it is too soon to say what this portends for long-term care, it's reasonable to assume that families are even more likely to try to find ways to help keep frail parents or spouses at home if they possibly can,” he said.

About 30% to 35% of the population of The Villages serve as caregivers, according to Dr. Jeffrey Lowenkron, Chief Medical Officer for The Villages Health.

"The term 'caregivers' is a broad term, and many individuals find themselves providing some type of caregiving to others, such as a parent, friend, neighbor, volunteering for assisting the elderly and/or disabled, or charity work," Lowenkron said in a statement. "In addition, many spouses living in The Villages provide caregiving to their loved one within their home."

Since the pandemic started, even more family members have taken on caregiving roles. Without them, their loved ones would have to leave their homes and move into assisted living facilities, said Sarah Jane Glynn, a sociologist with the National Academy of Social Insurance, a nonprofit in Washington, D.C.

"Having a family caregiver keeps them in a familiar place with a routine that they are used to, causing less stress for the patient," she said.

Among caregivers in the U.S., 55% said they would not have identified as caregivers before the pandemic because they were able to access resources making them feel less lonely, according to a study called "The Impact of Caregiving on Mental and Physical Health” conducted last year by Blue Cross Blue Shield.

The commitment of time, labor and emotional support this role requires can have a substantial impact on caregivers' physical, behavioral and emotional well-being, study authors said.

The Villages has more than 150 support groups, and some of them provide opportunities for caregivers to enjoy an activity with their loved one or drop off their loved one for a few hours so they can take a break to run some errands, get a haircut or just get some much-needed rest.

A support group can even become a "second home" for the patients and the caregivers, said Sandra Ricciardi, of the Day-Break Club of The Villages.

"They look forward to coming here," said Ricciardi, of the Village De La Vista. "For those couple of hours a week, they are able to go do something for themselves and then return back to the role of caring for their loved one."

Ricciardi founded the Day-Break Club in 2013 because she saw a need for it.

"When I moved to The Villages, there was nothing like this club," she said. "I created it as a safe place where caregivers could leave their loved ones while they took a break. It's easy to get burned out and the pandemic didn't help."

Many of the caregivers and their loved ones who are part of the club consider the other members like additional family, she said.

When the club put meetings on hold because of COVID-19 safety guidelines, Ricciardi continued to visit members on a one-on-one basis, giving her time to allow caregivers to socialize and complete errands.

"I wanted to make sure caregivers were getting a chance to step away if needed," she said. "It's very easy to burn out if one doesn't occasionally take a break."

The group held a spaghetti luncheon in October 2020 to give club members a chance to socialize in a safe and distanced environment. About 35 guests were served in shifts.

"It was a great opportunity to allow the members a moment to catch up with friends, while still taking their safety as a priority," Ricciardi said. "They were so glad to be there that many eyes sparkled with tears as they came back to their second home."

The club has not resumed weekly meetings but Ricciardi hopes to get them going again soon.

The Multiple Sclerosis Village People group in The Villages also provides support for patients and their caregivers, with a mission of "breaking down barriers so members can live life to the fullest." MS is a disease in which the immune system eats away at the protective covering of nerves.

Caregivers help loved ones continue to do the things they could do before they were diagnosed with the disease or before it progressed to the point of needing assistance. Sometimes it can be as simple as helping put on shoes. Other tasks are more difficult, such as getting someone out of bed, helping them wash their hair or helping them make and eat breakfast.

Gail Gibson, of the Village of St. Charles, is a member of MSVP and takes care of his wife, Betty, as her MS progresses.

"She is still mobile," Gibson said. "And she fights every day to try new things."

Gibson spends some of his mornings at the archery ranges throughout The Villages, and while Betty doesn't want him to stop doing what he loves, she also is looking for a way to join him.

"MS is a downhill type of disease," Gibson said. "Betty is strong, so it hasn't quite affected her to the point she can't walk. Her biggest battle right now is balance, but she is determined to take on the challenge."

Gibson said MSVP was founded in 2003 and has around 180 members. He said the support of the group makes a huge difference in his life, because he can turn to the members if he needs a hand or has questions.

"We are like a family," he said. "We are always looking out for one another and lending a hand when we can. It's a very encouraging and supportive group."

While their meetings just resumed, they spent the last few months getting together on the second Tuesday of each month at Fiesta Bowl to bowl and have lunch together.

"We just bowl a single game," said member Andrea Springer, of the Village of Amelia. "It's a way for us to get out and socialize with people dealing with the same issues while being safe. We have some who are in wheelchairs and we use a ramp to help them bowl, but we all work together to make sure we can laugh and have some fun."

The group Caring Neighbors lends a hand to caregivers and others who may not yet need a caregiver but have a hard time doing some activities by themselves. The group provides rides to medical appointments, grocery shopping and any other type of errand.

Founder Anne Bosler, of the Village of Hadley, has recruited volunteers for the past four years, with the mission of starting up several Caring Neighbors programs throughout The Villages. Hadley Caring Neighbors was the first, followed by Summerhill Caring Neighbors.

"Ideally, six or more neighbors are needed to start the program in a village,” Bosler said. "Hadley Caring Neighbors began with six members in 2016 and now has over 50 members.”

Once the program has the required number of volunteers, it will partner with United Way of Lake and Sumter Counties, Bosler said.

United Way provides background checks on volunteers and supplies materials such as brochures, name badges, a dedicated phone and documentation guidelines.

"In addition, several volunteers from existing Caring Neighbors groups are ready and willing to contribute in any way to help a new volunteer group get up and running,” Bosler said.

The group continues to expand and now has five chapters throughout the Central Villages region.

"As more people move to The Villages, we are seeing more people needing help," Bosler said. "As The Villages continues to expand, we hope to expand with it. Some Villages residents have a hard time giving up their independence and our group helps out in any way we can."

In the Village of Gilchrist, two residents who started a program in 2018 are continuing to lend a hand to their neighbors. They call their group 214 Assist and they help with many different tasks.

"I think the program is a good thing and important to those in our neighborhood,” said Bob Heit, co-leader of the program. "We help people with tasks they think aren't important, like getting a ride somewhere."

When COVID-19 happened, the neighbors found ways to work around the virus while staying safe.

"We would hold virtual meetings once a month just to check in," said Joyce Doblosky, leader of the program. "We wanted to make sure everyone was OK and if they needed something, one of us would be able to assist. My husband, Jack, and I started doing online groceries just to keep us safe from the crowds and it made it easy to order something for a neighbor when they needed something."

The group has more than 22 ambassadors keeping an eye on the 140-or-so homes in the village, including watching their houses when they are out of town.

"We still check the email and help any way we can, but we keep all communications digital,” Jack said. "One of these days we will go back to 'normal,' but right now, it's about keeping us all safe. We do miss spending time with our neighbors though."

When Joyce broke her ankle in 2020, an ambassador from the group got her mail for her.

"When one has an injury, even a little task feels like it takes forever," she said. "Having someone around who was able to help me, even by getting my mail or helping me with groceries, it made a huge difference and is one of the reasons I am glad we have this group."

They also drive other residents to appointments and errands so they do not have to seek outside help.

"We have all come together to help one another in some way, shape or form," Heit said. "Without the communication and being able to rely on each other, we would all be in trouble and our happy spirits would diminish."

Pickleballers Helping Seniors formed in 2020 during the pandemic to help residents who cannot do things on their own or just want someone to talk to.

"We make grocery store and pharmacy trips, provide technology assistance, assist with the mail or just hang out and have conversations together," said Doug McClintock, of the Village of Pennecamp.

McClintock is one of the seven board members who started the group.

"We just got together in our golf cars while keeping our distance so we could remain safe," he said. "We started talking about the situation our community was in and how people in need might need a hand and we just set out to help."

The group has more than 100 volunteers helping out and volunteers don't have to play pickleball to be in the group.

To learn more about the group and how to get involved, visit pickleballersservingseniors.com.

As the group takes on additional volunteers, they are looking for more ways to help out their neighbors.

"We are always open for new volunteers, especially as we are expanding our services into the nursing homes and helping with light yard work," he said.

Recently the group helped Keren Pekkanen, of the Village of Lake Deaton, who takes care of her husband who has dementia. Members of the group took apart a bed, moved it to another room and put it back together.

"The bed is really heavy and bulky," she said. "I wouldn't have been able to get it apart and put away the way I needed to without their help. I have worked with this group before and I cannot say enough praises about them."

Pekkanen has been filling in as a caretaker for some of her other loved ones as well, and when she is unable to do a task, she calls the group for their help.

"Sometimes, I am unable to leave the person I am helping and it means I have to find someone who can assist me while I continue my care," she said.

Pekkanen has called on the group a couple of times since its formation and said she would recommend them to anyone in need.

"They are always so polite and willing to help," she said. "Even if it's a small task like hanging something on a wall or helping in the yard, they are quick to assist without complaint. It gives me the opportunity to focus on caring for others and it gives me peace."

Linda Tucker was in the process of starting a new nonprofit called Dementia Pals last year before the pandemic started. The group would pair caregivers or volunteers with someone needing assistance in groceries, company, errands or day-to-day activities.

"It was going really well," said Tucker, of the Village of Fernandina. "But then COVID happened and we had to delay. Then we ended up in Massachusetts longer than planned because of my husband's health."

Tucker plans to continue setting up the nonprofit when she returns.

"There is such a need for it," she said. "So many caregivers need an extra hand so they can go out and do whatever it is they need to do. It's hard caring for someone who may be in a condition where you can't leave them, but at the same time, you don't want to make it feel like they are a burden because they aren't."

Full Article & Source:

Saturday, November 20, 2021

Family Accusations Over Peter Max's Guardianship

I-Team

 

Famed pop artist Peter Max’s family is locked in a fierce battle over his guardianship. Sarah Wallace reports.


Source:
 
See Also:
 

Peter Max’s daughter fights against pop artist’s ‘abusive’ guardianship

By Cindy Adams

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.

Full Article & Source:

Facility releases statement on caretaker charged for abusing client with disabilities

by Anisa Snipes

Mishanna Ortega D'Wan Armour


SPARTANB
URG, SC (FOX Carolina) - The Charles Lea Center released a statement on the caretaker who was charged for allegedly abusing a vulnerable adult.

Chief Executive Officer of Charles Lea Center Jerry Bernard said in a statement:

“The well-being of the men and women who receive services at the Charles Lea Center is, and always will be, our number one priority. We hold all staff to exceptionally high standards and have a zero-tolerance policy for abuse. Such behavior does not reflect the level of care and compassion the Charles Lea Center has been committed to providing for more than 50 years. Charles Lea Center policy specifically prohibits any abuse, neglect, exploitation or any form of mistreatment of the people we support and will not permit the continued employment of anyone who violates this policy."

Earlier today, the Spartanburg County Sheriff's Office announced the charges.

A witness said she said a police report a client with special needs asked Mishanna Ortega D'Wan Armour, a caretaker at the Charles Lea Center, for her prescribed medicine several times. Armour said that she would get it in a minute. The client asked again and stated she would call the house manager if Armour didn't get her medicine, according to the witness. 

The police report then says the witness saw Armour standing with her hand's up in a fighting stance. The client then walked to Armour and Armour hit the client a minimum of three times in the head. 

The witness said she broke up the fight and Armour stormed out of the facility. A facility nurse checked on the client and stated that they began to have a seizure.

Armour has been charged with abuse or neglect with great bodily injury of a vulnerable adult and second degree assault and battery.

Full Article & Source: 

Friday, November 19, 2021

The Fight of This Old Boxer’s Life Was With His Own Family

Marvin Stein lived an eventful and prosperous life. But a battle among his family over his fortune broke out, and he suddenly found himself powerless to fight for himself.

 
Credit...Sara Naomi Lewkowicz for The New York Times

By John Leland

This much is agreed upon.

On the day after Thanksgiving 2018, Marvin Stein’s two adult sons removed him from the home he shared with his third wife and took him to three banks, where he withdrew nearly $400,000. Then they transferred the money to a trust account that they controlled.

Within days, the sons — who came from Marvin’s second marriage — helped him change his will to make them the only beneficiaries. Two months later, twin sisters from Marvin’s wife’s family, his grandnieces-in-law, petitioned the court to declare him legally incapacitated, and to appoint a guardian to manage both his person and his finances. And, they argued, they were the right people for the job. They were 23.

Here is where things become more contentious.

On a recent afternoon, Todd Stein, 56, the younger of Marvin’s two sons, showed a photograph of his father, taken shortly after that Thanksgiving, that he said revealed Marvin’s condition at the time. Shot from behind, Marvin, then 88, appears shirtless, his skin mottled and loose on his frame.

Is this just the body of a man in late life? Or is it, as his son maintains, evidence of potentially life-threatening neglect that Marvin, a lifelong fitness buff, had suffered at the hands of his wife’s younger relatives?

Had Todd and his brother saved their father? Or had they, as the twins claimed in court papers, taken advantage of his frail state to kidnap him and siphon off his life savings?

In the months after the bank tour, police officers, a judge, a court evaluator, a dozen or so lawyers and two very assertive families would all throw themselves at these questions, setting the trajectory of Marvin Stein’s late years and consuming hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Now Todd Stein, who runs a management company for actors, is trying to make a documentary series about the battle between the two families.

He proposed calling the series, “Fight of His Life: The Marvin Stein Story.” The production company that bought the rights preferred something juicier: “A Mafia Marriage.”

Marvin Stein at age 10 in 1940: small but tough.
Credit...via Todd Stein

Marvin Stein, who was born in 1930, grew up poor in East Flatbush, Brooklyn, where he said he was the only Jewish kid boxing at the Flatbush Boys Club. His father was an alcoholic who left the family before Marvin was 10. Marvin was small but tough, fighting his way to Golden Gloves lightweight championship titles in 1946 and 1947. Boxing brought his first contact with organized crime figures.

“These underworld characters, they wanted to take advantage of me, so they drove me to Philadelphia, and I fought in Philadelphia, and they drove me back home again,” Marvin, 91, said in late September, in the Upper East Side apartment where he lives with Todd and Todd’s mother. His managers had chosen Philadelphia because the betting was “very loosey-loosey,” Marvin said. His voice was soft but even in his clipped phrasing, the grit of the episode seemed still fresh. “Real characters,” he said.

It was not his last encounter with gangsters.

“No,” Marvin said.

Marvin sat low in a wheelchair at one end of a table piled with shrimp, grapes and other noshes. Felicia Stein — Todd’s mother — sat in a wheelchair in a leopard-print blouse at the other end.

Marvin and Felicia, who divorced in 1986, sleep in separate bedrooms, each with a second bed for a home attendant. Todd, who had moved back to New York from Los Angeles to help care for his mother, created a third bedroom for himself from a section of the living room.

“He’s been wonderful, helping us,” Felicia said.

“What do I do for you?” Todd asked.

“You put up with me.”

The conversation, like others over a span of several weeks, moved like a river, winding here and there, occasionally stagnating in eddies. A few years ago, Marvin had two transient ischemic attacks — like very brief strokes — and he now has memory lapses that disrupt his narrative flow.

Todd addressed him deliberately, enunciating each word: “Do you remember the guardianship case?”

“I know you were involved in that,” Marvin said.

To steer Marvin’s memory, Todd brought out a thick album of family photos. In the early pictures, Marvin appears as a handsome, athletic man, prosperous through middle age. But later pictures, taken when he was in his 80s, show an emaciated figure living in a Brooklyn basement.

No court ever found that Marvin had been abused or neglected. But as he looked at the images, he tried to make sense of the change.

“As I look back, yes, I was taken advantage of,” he said. “At the time, I wasn’t aware of being exploited. I guess I was a sucker.”

Some memories were beyond recall, even with the photos. After high school, Marvin spent a year in a psychiatric institution to avoid prison. He could not remember why.

Todd asked his father, “How’s your memory today?”

Marvin thought about it. “I look back, it’s a movie,” he said. “I’m very fortunate I’m hooked up with Todd and this apartment. When I leave here, where am I going?”

“To heaven, I hope,” Todd said.

“Yeah.”

Mr. Stein in 1964 at the Manhattan health club he managed, where celebrities like Barbra Streisand and Burt Reynolds were V.I.P.s. 
Credit...via Todd Stein

In Todd’s mind — or in his patter — the documentary series is a sure smash. A production company, Fremantle, the makers of “American Idol” and “America’s Got Talent,” bought the rights. The powerful Creative Artists Agency was already pitching it to streaming services like Netflix and Peacock. Probably there would be a bidding war for the rights, Todd said. The pitch included a “sizzle reel” showing stacks of money and dramatized scenes of elder abuse. It had a story with real-life gangsters and celebrities, a health club — owned by Marvin — with a vault where members checked their guns and a “sleep room” where closeted gay men met. And it had a guardianship battle — just like Britney Spears, almost.

“You couldn’t write this stuff,” Todd said.

Boxing never developed into a professional career for Marvin, but it began his affinity for the gym. He married and became a father just out of high school, working in a fruit store for his first wife’s father. Customers included Barbra Streisand’s mother, who liked to haggle, Marvin said. “She was a cheapskate,” he recalled.

Memory is a strange and wondrous thing.

Marvin rode the fitness wave of the 1960s and 1970s. After divorcing his first wife, he married his second, Felicia Ann Salvi, a former dressmaker’s model, in 1961. He managed the health club at the Shelton Towers hotel in Midtown Manhattan, where celebrities like Ms. Streisand and Burt Reynolds were V.I.P.s, and George Hamilton tanned on the sun deck. Marvin started his own Shelton clubs in Brooklyn, the Bronx and Queens. He bought property in Amagansett, in the Hamptons — $27,000 in 1969 — and built a house.

The club in Brooklyn became a hangout for wiseguys and judges from the nearby courthouse. “They would meet in the steam room and have contacts because it couldn’t be taped,” Marvin said.

Todd Stein this year. A former child actor, he hopes to make a documentary series about the battle over his father’s guardianship.
Credit...Sara Naomi Lewkowicz for The New York Times

Todd, who was born in 1965, attended Manhattan private schools, including the elite Professional Children’s School for young working performers. Schoolmates included Sarah Jessica Parker, Christian Slater and Phoebe Cates. At 13, he started to land roles in commercials, soap operas and Off Broadway plays.

Marvin lavished his children with money, especially after he and Felicia separated, when Todd was 16. It was how Marvin showed love, Todd said. They’d go shopping at Barney’s, and Todd could pick out whatever he wanted. But Marvin also warned his son, “Don’t let people know what you have.” That was the old Brooklyn talking.

Todd, who also goes by T.J., moved to California after college, eventually starting a management company for young actors, which was written up in The Los Angeles Times in 2000. In court papers, Marvin’s future guardians said that Todd and his father had little contact after Todd moved west, except when Todd wanted money, which Marvin resented. Todd and Marvin denied this. But when Marvin married a woman he met at the Brooklyn exercise club in 1991, he did not tell his children or invite them to the wedding.

The woman was Anita Montemarano, who worked for New York City in social services. She was also, the Steins learned, the sister of a high-ranking mafia captain.

Dominic Montemarano, whose sister was Marvin Stein’s third wife, was described in a federal indictment as a captain in the Colombo organized crime family.
Credit...via Todd Stein

Marvin’s new wife was the older sister of Dominic Montemarano, who was known as Donny Shacks and at the time of the wedding was serving what would be a decade in prison for racketeering and extortion. The federal indictment described him as a capo, or captain, in the Colombo crime family.

Mr. Montemarano, whose record also included arrests for assault, bribery, loan sharking, illegal gun possession and bookmaking, had a yen for the Hollywood life. When he got out of prison in 1997, he moved to California and started hanging out with celebrities like Pamela Anderson and Elizabeth Hurley, as well as Steve Bing, a mercurial movie producer who leapt to his death from his high-rise apartment in Century City in July 2020.

Mr. Montemarano also tried acting, starring as an aging criminal in the 2002 bomb “Night at the Golden Eagle,” produced by Mr. Bing, which took in less than $18,000 at the box office. Reviewing the movie in The Times, A.O. Scott wrote, approvingly, that “the smell of sweat, urine and cheap liquor seems to emanate from the screen.”

Marvin Stein said he had few dealings with his brother-in-law, by choice. “He used to come to my house to meet with my wife, and there was money going back and forth,” Marvin said, declining to elaborate. “I sort of excused myself and got busy with something. I didn’t want any part of it, because sooner or later it was going to catch up with me.”

Relations between the in-laws were fraught. Members of Ms. Montemarano’s family and their lawyer declined to be interviewed for this article, but in 2013, Anita Montemarano wrote a scathing two-page letter to Todd and his brother and their half-sister from Marvin’s first marriage, a champion powerlifter living in Brooklyn. In it, Anita called them “a self-centered, self-absorbed, ungrateful group of adults” who enjoyed “free rides financially and emotionally” from their father.

In court documents, Anita’s niece Donna claimed that Marvin’s sons ignored him for long stretches, “emerging only to make financial demands of their father and his wife.”

Todd and Marvin say it was Anita who tried to keep them apart.

“Anita would make sarcastic remarks: Is that Todd calling again?” Marvin said.

When Anita got a diagnosis of kidney cancer in late 2016, the conflicts between the two families — over money, over control — escalated. Despite the tension, Marvin said he had loved Anita, and that she had been very brave during her decline.

Marvin Stein with Anita Montemarano Stein, his third wife, in an undated photo. “If you think I’m going to beg you,” she said to him the last time he saw her, “I’m not.”
Credit...via Todd Stein

Just before Thanksgiving 2018, Todd was on a business trip to Chicago when he called his father. He thought Marvin did not sound right. He flew to New York, he said, and found his father living in the basement of his home in the Dyker Heights section of Brooklyn, unwashed and in poor condition.

At this point, Anita was in the terminal stages of cancer, with a hospice nurse visiting three times a week and her niece and twin grandnieces caring for her and Marvin. The twins called Todd’s arrival that Thanksgiving “a rare appearance at a family gathering.”

“My dad was just skin and bones,” Todd said, adding that he was in delirium. “He had been moving six figures out of his bank accounts over the past 20 months. He was not eating, he was not drinking or taking his proper medicine.”

In their petition to be appointed Marvin’s guardians, the grandnieces described him as incapacitated, having dementia and unable to maintain a conversation or remember information told to him.

Marvin said it had been his choice to live in the basement. He had a television and exercise equipment there, and a futon frame piled with mattresses. But when Todd showed him the photo of himself taken shortly afterward, shirtless, Marvin was distressed to see how thin he was. “When I look at it, it indicates that I wasn’t getting food,” he said, “because my bones are showing.”

There were also financial questions. Four months earlier, in July 2018, with cancer ravaging Anita’s body, someone had helped Marvin change his will to leave the Dyker Heights house, worth more than $1.2 million, entirely to the grandnieces, rather than to be shared among the two families, as it had been before. Other accounts were also changed to favor Anita’s family, including the beneficiaries of Anita’s will and $368,000 in life insurance policies, Todd said.

That Friday, a few days after Todd’s initial visit, Todd and his older brother, Ralph, who lived in New York City, showed up at the Dyker Heights house and announced they were taking their father to lunch. Instead, they began the tour of Marvin’s banks to remove his assets.

Police officers, notified by Anita’s family, sent Todd text messages telling him to bring Marvin to a police precinct. They reported to a precinct in Manhattan, then to one in Brooklyn, and then to a hospital, because Marvin’s blood pressure was “off the charts,” Todd said. Finally, sometime around 2 a.m. and without warning his mother, Todd took his father to the apartment he was sharing with Felicia, in the Upper East Side building where Todd grew up.

It was the first time Marvin and Felicia had seen each other in at least a decade.

Todd said he was only protecting his father’s assets. In their guardianship petition, the grandnieces accused Todd and his brother of “exercising undue influence and duress” over Marvin to get hold of his money, saying he “cannot maintain a conversation of any length because he cannot remember the information shared with him and consequently loses the thread of the discussion.”

Marvin saw Anita only once more, when he returned to the house a few days after Thanksgiving to get his medications. In a very short video recorded on Todd’s cellphone, Marvin stands over her bed, apparently having told her he was leaving. “If you think I’m going to beg you,” she can be heard saying, “I’m not.”

With so much acrimony, both families got protective orders against one another.

When Anita died, on Dec. 10, 2018, her family did not notify Todd and Marvin. The brothers went to the Dyker Heights house around Christmas and found it had been largely cleared out. This was how they learned of her death.

About a month after that, in late January 2019, the grandnieces petitioned to have Marvin declared incapacitated, and to be appointed guardians of his person and property. They tallied his known assets at close to $2 million, in addition to the house.

Without meeting with Marvin, a judge in State Supreme Court in Brooklyn granted their petition.

Todd hired a team of lawyers for himself and for his father, and petitioned the court to release Marvin from guardianship, or appoint Todd as the guardian instead of the twins.

The legal fees began to mount, at up to $650 per hour. The court replaced the twins with an experienced, temporary guardian, but gave him authority only over Marvin’s property, not his person. The guardian’s fee, too, was billed to Marvin.

Living with Todd and Felicia, Marvin regained weight; his therapist and doctor submitted letters attesting that he was lucid and able to care for himself, with help.

But Marvin was still not in charge of his finances. If he needed money for a shave, he said, he had to ask the guardian. And the legal bills were adding up: $100,000, then $200,000 and rising — some of it a result of Todd’s constant emails to the various lawyers.

The two families fought over everything. Todd demanded that Anita’s family remove her cremated remains from a niche at Green-Wood Cemetery that Marvin had bought. That battle went on for months before the remains were moved.

Finally, in June 2019, the two families agreed to a settlement, and together asked the court to end the guardianship. Marvin regained control of his life.

Marvin, Todd and Felicia Stein this month in the Upper East Side apartment they share. Todd estimates that it cost about $300,000 to get his father out of guardianship.
Credit...Sara Naomi Lewkowicz for The New York Times

On a recent afternoon in the Steins’ apartment, Todd estimated that the cost of getting his father out of guardianship ran to about $300,000. He did not know how much the process cost Anita’s family.

Marvin and Felicia sat facing each other across a table. Felicia, who is now 87, wore a sash from a beauty contest she won in her youth.

Living together has been an adjustment for the three of them. Todd has just started dating after the breakup of a long-term relationship and surgery from a severe bicycle accident — all while running his business and caring for two very old parents.

“It’s a 24-hour job,” he said. “I plan the meals, take care of the medicines. It’s a lot.”

And there is the recognition that his parents, who are working out a new relationship after a long and acrimonious time apart, are getting frailer.

As he prepared to pitch the documentary series, Todd said, he worried that people might accuse him of exploiting his father.

“Would it look badly that I’m involved in a documentary that’s watching his decline?” Todd said. “Because it is something that could be judged.”

Felicia said that when Todd first brought Marvin to her apartment, she was “apprehensive.” But a kind of rhythm had emerged. “I’m used to him,” she said. Still, she added, all the talk of gangsters and police made her feel uneasy — though in the end, there is little evidence that criminal elements played a role other than as mood music for the documentary.

Todd asked his father whether he liked living with Felicia.

Marvin gave it some thought. “Doesn’t harm me in any way,” he said.

Todd pressed: “It’s nice to have someone you can talk to?”

“Yes,” Marvin said.

Their challenge now is to imagine their remaining lives together. Marvin and Felicia exercise in the gym downstairs; Todd takes them for meals at the corner restaurant. The couple’s combined incomes cover their living expenses.

“Luckily, my father is considered a success story,” Todd said, acknowledging that many people never get out of guardianship. “He lived. Imagine if they didn’t have the money to fight it.”

He paused and then corrected himself. “If they didn’t have money,” he said, “this never would have happened.”

Full Article & Source:

Man charged with felony elder abuse pleads guilty to misdemeanor

By Melissa Loveridge

A Bozeman man charged with felony elder abuse and violating an order of protection in May 2021 pleaded guilty Tuesday to a misdemeanor assault charge.

Daniel Edwin Gorder, 37, pleaded guilty to an amended charge of misdemeanor partner family member assault before Gallatin County District Court Judge Peter Ohman.

According to court documents, Gorder hit an elderly person across the face with a shoe and, on two different dates, ripped the armrests off of a chair the person was sitting in and grabbed the person and pushed them into a piece of furniture in a home. Court documents also said that several years prior, he had grabbed a different person by the neck and pushed them into the ground. He later violated a court order not to contact both of the people by attempting to call one and texting the other.

At Gorder’s appearance in Gallatin County Justice Court after his arrest, Judge Bryan Adams set his bail at $10,000. At that bail setting, Adams said he considered setting a higher bail because of the nature of the then-alleged crimes and what the judge saw as an escalation of dangerous behavior. He decided against doing so because he did not determine Gorder to be a flight risk, or a person who would attempt to run from the court, because he has ties to Bozeman. A first offense of misdemeanor partner or family member assault carries a minimum sentence of 24 hours in jail with a maximum of one year incarcerated. It also carries a minimum $100 fine and a maximum fine of $1,000.

In Montana law, the definition of both a partner and a family member is broad and includes any past or present member of a family household, including people related by adoption, marriage and remarriage, whether or not they still live in the same household. Partners under the law are defined as any two people in a dating relationship or formerly in a relationship, including spouses and former spouses, and any couple who has a child together regardless of dating or marital status.

Sentencing for Gorder’s case is scheduled for Dec. 7 in Gallatin County District Court.

Full Article & Source:

Thursday, November 18, 2021

COA affirms denial of guardianship for 95-year-old veteran but reverses attorney fees award


by Katie Stancombe


The Indiana Court of Appeals has affirmed the denial of a guardianship petition for an elderly Vincennes man who revoked a former friend’s position as his power of attorney. However, the appellate court reversed an award of more than $70,000 in attorney fees he requested.


John J. Yocum Jr., who at 95 lived alone in the same Vincennes house where he grew up, was able to take care of his own daily needs and kept the residence well maintained.

Prior to his death in August 2021, Yocum was injured when he fell at home in August 2018 and was subsequently hospitalized after being found on the ground roughly three days later. Lydia Duncan, whom Yocum had met at church, agreed to live with and care for the elderly man on the condition that he make her his power of attorney.

Duncan was ultimately made Yocum’s POA and health care representative, with Yocum’s friend Donald Fredrick serving as successor in both roles. They also served as trustees of Yocum’s charitable trust, which held the bulk of his estate.

In her role as attorney-in-fact, Duncan deposited $100,000 from the liquidation of Yocum’s certificates of deposition into a new checking account and listed herself as a co-owner of the account. Yocum also set up a $50,000 educational trust for Duncan’s daughter.

In December 2019, Duncan and Yocum got into an argument over who canceled his eye doctor appointment. Duncan, who called Yocum a liar, then alleged he battered her by pushing her down and kicking her after she refused to stop looking through his paperwork. However, the Gibson Circuit Court concluded Duncan “set up” Yocum by recording the argument and falling down.

Duncan, who confessed to recording Yocum on several occasions without his knowledge, was soon thereafter removed as his POA. In September 2020, Yocum named David Lancaster as his attorney-in-fact and health care representative, specifically revoking Duncan.

Additionally, Yocum, who had testified that he didn’t trust either Duncan or Fredrick, executed a new will leaving his estate to his church rather than to Duncan. He also defunded the educational trust.

Duncan and Fredrick petitioned for appointment of guardianship over Yocum, alleging that he required 24-hour care, that he lacked the requisite capacity to execute the power of attorney change and that the new will was invalid due to fraud, duress or undue influence. They also sought to have him examined.

But the trial court concluded their guardianship petition was “frivolous, unreasonable, groundless” and that neither Duncan nor Fredrick were qualified persons suitable to serve as Yocum’s guardians due to the evidence of their adversarial histories and of Duncan’s past breach of her fiduciary relationship with him. It also concluded Yocum was not an incapacitated person under Indiana Code § 29-3-1-7.5 and that a guardianship wasn’t necessary. Finally, it ordered Duncan and Fredrick to pay $71,689.40 in attorney fees.

The Court of Appeals of Indiana affirmed the denial of the guardianship petition, finding the appellants failed to establish that Yocum was unable to care for himself or his property. As such, an appointment of a guardian was not necessary, it concluded.

As to his contractual capacity, the COA concluded Yocum understood the purpose and necessity of appointing a power of attorney and that he could revoke it at any time.

“We agree that John only had a limited understanding of his attorney-in-fact’s power to act on his behalf,” Judge Paul Mathias wrote. “And John could not specifically remember executing the documents granting David Lancaster his power of attorney, but he was able to identify the document, he understood what the document was, and that he signed it. That John did not have a complete understanding of the power of attorney’s ability to make decisions on his behalf, does not mean that he lacked contractual capacity.

“… Moreover, the fact that John was diagnosed with dementia does not mean that John lacked contractual capacity,” Mathias continued. “Although John could not recall executing the documents at issue, he understood the documents and their purpose, recognized his signature, and wanted David to act as his power of attorney.”

But the COA reversed and split on the issue of attorney fees, with the majority concluding the appellants’ arguments were not devoid of all plausibility. The appellate court also denied Yocum’s request for appellate attorney fees.

But Judge Elizabeth Tavitas dissented, arguing the trial court made additional findings that supported the entry of an attorney fees award.

“The record clearly reveals that the Appellants undermined and took advantage of John and initiated the guardianship for pecuniary gain,” Tavitas opined in dissent. “… The trial court did not err in awarding attorney fees regarding the Appellants’ frivolous claim, which they litigated in bad faith. … Accordingly, I concur in part and dissent in part.”

The case of Lydia A. Duncan and Donald E. Frederick v. John J. Yocum, Jr., 20A-GU-2299, was remanded for proceedings consistent with the opinion
 
Full Article & Source: