Standing before the religious icons that line his Ukrainian Orthodox church in Humboldt Park, the Rev. Nicholas Chervyatiuk has ministered to followers who arrived in Chicago as refugees after surviving Nazi Germany's prison camps.
Now the Cook County public guardian is accusing the priest of improperly taking more than $500,000 from the savings of one of those displaced persons, a 93-year-old former church secretary diagnosed with dementia.
Chervyatiuk has not been charged with a crime, and he denied any wrongdoing during a sworn probate court examination and in a Tribune interview.
He says Nelly Bridgeman wanted him to have her money, which he saw as payment for the care he provided as her health and mental faculties failed.
"It's
for my work," Chervyatiuk testified during the court examination. "It
was for 14 years and I think it was time for me to get paid. ... Nelly
wanted it that way."
He told the Tribune he estimated those services were worth "about $25,000 per year."
Chervyatiuk,
55, allegedly used Bridgeman's money to support two restaurants he ran
with a convicted drug dealer, his Brash & Sassy Inc. hair salon and
his portfolio of Chicago-area rental properties, according to probate
court papers and separate land, business and court records.
He
has held power of attorney over Bridgeman's affairs since March 2015,
when she was diagnosed with dementia and moved into a nursing home,
records show.
Public guardian Robert Harris said: "It's another example of how elderly people get ripped off by the most trusted people."
The
priest's private attorney, Dmytro Kurywczak, said Chervyatiuk "is
working with the Office of the Public Guardian to come up with some kind
of a resolution that will be in the best interests of Nelly Bridgeman."
Chervyatiuk's
Holy Patronage Church, at 900 N. Washtenaw Ave., is part of the
Ukrainian Orthodox Church of the Kyivan Patriarchate, one of three major
Orthodox groups in that country.
A North American church leader,
the Rev. Victor Poliarny, told the Tribune it was "not acceptable" for a
priest to take a parishioner's funds in a private transaction. Church
authorities are seeking "official documents substantiating the
accusation," Poliarny said. "Once we secure the official documents
regarding this matter, the higher authority of the Kyiv Patriarchate
will ensure proper punitive measures for the alleged behavior."
A
native of Ukraine, Bridgeman had been a German World War II prisoner,
and Chervyatiuk in his court examination acknowledged signing his name
to her reparation checks from the German government.
In the court examination, Chervyatiuk said: "It belonged to me, everything. She knew that and she told it to everyone."
Suspecting
fraud, a bank official in December contacted the public guardian's
office. In March, Associate Cook County Judge Shauna Boliker authorized
the office to gather financial records and determine how much of
Bridgeman's money Chervyatiuk spent on her care and how much he
allegedly converted for his own use.
The agency, which now is
Bridgeman's legal guardian, says it will seek court permission to
recover any funds wrongly converted by Chervyatiuk. As the probate case
proceeds, Boliker has ordered financial institutions to freeze $170,000
of the priest's personal and business bank accounts.
At the public
guardian's request, a doctor this year examined Bridgeman and
determined she "was totally incapable of making financial and personal
decisions."
After coming to America in 1950, Bridgeman married a
U.S. service member and would serve for more than two decades as
secretary of Chervyatiuk's church, court records show. Her husband died
in 2004 at 79. The couple had no children.
"In church I was her
priest and at home I was her beloved son," Chervyatiuk testified during
the June 24 probate court examination. Chervyatiuk was born in Germany
and raised in Ukraine, he said.
During
the past five years, Bridgeman had been unable to cook, wash or shop
for herself, Chervyatiuk said. "She kept a lot of stuff in the house. So
you couldn't really walk in the house. You had to find a path," he
said.
In March 2015, Bridgeman fell and injured a hip, records
show. At the hospital she was diagnosed with dementia. Chervyatiuk then
placed her in a Chicago nursing home, records show.
A day later,
Chervyatiuk met with Bridgeman and lawyer Julian Kulas at the nursing
facility and Kulas drafted papers that gave Chervyatiuk power of
attorney for Bridgeman, according to the public guardian.
"That
power of attorney made him responsible to use her money for her good and
in her best interest, and not for himself," Harris said.
Kulas'
son, Paul Kulas, is acting as his father's attorney in the case and said
there was no improper conduct on Kulas' part. Kulas is "cooperating
fully" with the public guardian and the court, his son said.
In
the next 12 months, Chervyatiuk cashed in two CDs worth $170,000 and
transferred other funds to accounts he alone controlled, probate court
records filed by the public guardian allege. Chervyatiuk used his legal
status to control Bridgeman's accounts, worth at least $540,000 and
perhaps as much as $625,000, according to the public guardian.
During
that period, Chervyatiuk put at least $22,000 of Bridgeman's funds into
two restaurants he ran with Alban Tase, 41. He also directly gave Tase
two checks from Bridgeman's account totaling $6,500, probate court
records show.
Tase pleaded guilty in 2010 to federal drug
conspiracy charges after an undercover operative met with him in a
Chicago nightclub and steakhouse to trade shipments of stolen cigarettes
for Ecstasy pills.
He was among more than a dozen defendants
convicted as part of a global Balkan crime operation that laundered
money and trafficked in heroin, guns and contraband consumer goods,
federal court records show.
Authorities tracked the crime ring's
deals from New Jersey to Canada, then the Netherlands, Albania and
regions of Macedonia, Serbia and Kosovo.
Tase completed three
years of supervised release in May following a federal prison term that
is not specified in public records. Attempts to reach him for comment
were not successful.
In Chervyatiuk's June 24 examination, he said
Tase was his business partner in two Chicago-area pancake house
restaurants, both since closed. Chervyatiuk said he did not know Tase
was a convicted felon.
"I just know one thing. He stole money from me too, and I don't know where he is," Chervyatiuk testified.
Chervyatiuk later told the Tribune that Tase was involved with only one of the pancake houses.
Chervyatiuk
also wired thousands of dollars to a Western Union office in Ukraine,
authorizing local contacts to pick up the money, records show.
"We were helping the church," Chervyatiuk said, adding that the
funds were for an iconostasis — one of the panels of icons and religious
paintings that adorn Eastern Orthodox churches.
Asked in the
court examination if the money wasn't instead spent on the
Ukrainian-Russian military conflict, Chervyatiuk said: "I don't really
want to talk about it now."
In the case of one $26,000 Bridgeman check, Chervyatiuk testified:
"I don't recall what I did with that, possibly for my own things."
One
of Bridgeman's home health care aides allegedly told the public
guardian that Bridgeman sometimes seemed confused and treated
Chervyatiuk like her deceased husband.
The aide said she saw
Chervyatiuk pretend to be Bridgeman's husband and kiss her on the lips,
according to court papers filed by the public guardian.
Chervyatiuk
also took title to land Bridgeman had owned in Texas, saying in his
court examination that Bridgeman gave him the property. "One day she did
a surprise to me. She took me to a restaurant and gave me those
papers," he said.
Bridgeman was not the only parishioner who gave
Chervyatiuk large personal gifts, records show. Another church follower,
Maria Lewczenko, died in December at 93 and made him executor of her
estate with $20,000 in accounts and $100,000 in real estate.
Chervyatiuk declined to discuss that matter with the Tribune, saying only: "I had many women who I tried to help."
Full Article & Source:
Chicago priest accused of taking $500,000 from parishioner with dementia
Saturday, August 27, 2016
What happens to developmentally disabled as parents age, die?
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| Photo by Claudia Daut/Reuters |
The 22-year-old has cerebral palsy and an intellectual disability. She doesn’t speak and functions at a preschool level. Her mother, Beth Munro, feeds her with a fork or her hand.
As Beth ages — she’ll be 68 in October — she wonders who will care for Caroline when she’s no longer around. But she may never know. Caroline is on a Maryland waiting list for additional Medicaid services for the disabled. The list is thousands of names long, and as in many states, names often stay on it until a caregiver falls ill or dies.
About 860,000 people over 60 nationwide are in Beth’s place, caring for someone with intellectual or developmental disabilities in their home. And many are waiting, sometimes for years, for state-provided Medicaid help for their disabled child, sister or brother, such as placement in a group home, day services, or transportation or employment programs. If they can’t afford to pay for these services on their own, under the federal-state Medicaid system, their relative could end up in an institution.
As the number of older caregivers grows, and their need for help becomes more dire, a few states have passed laws to give older caregivers a chance to help decide where, and how, the person they care for will live. Tennessee passed a law in 2015 to ensure that anyone with an intellectual disability and a caregiver over 80 got the services they needed, and this year the state expanded the law to those with caretakers over 75. And in 2014, Connecticut passed a similar law that is helping about 120 people with a caregiver over 70.
But the waiting lists for needed services in these states and many others are still thousands of names long. In recent years, states such as Maryland, Virginia and Pennsylvania have put money into their budgets to try to chip away at the lists, and they get federal matching dollars to help pay for it. Some states are prioritizing people with urgent needs, while others are prioritizing students as they age out of school.
Yet advocates for people with disabilities, such as Nicole Jorwic, director of rights policy at The Arc, a national nonprofit, say there needs to be a federal fix.
“Something that pumps money into the system,” Jorwic said. “And that’s just not going to happen in the current climate in Congress.”
In Maryland, Beth Munro realizes that unless she becomes seriously ill or dies, her daughter might not be placed in a group home.
“I’ve worked really hard at the issue over the years,” Beth said, “and you get nowhere.”
First generation
This generation of caregivers over 60 watched over decades as the U.S. grew more understanding and inclusive of people with disabilities. A movement swept the country in the 1970s and ’80s to deinstitutionalize people with disabilities. And for decades now, most people with disabilities who receive Medicaid help have been cared for at home by family members.
In 2013, spending for community- and home-based services surpassed spending for large institutions, such as mental hospitals and nursing homes, for the first time. By that time, 14 states no longer had any large state-run institutions for people with intellectual or developmental disabilities, and many others had only a few, according to University of Colorado research.
The move to deinstitutionalize care has provided care that is more personalized while also saving states money. Average costs for care in a state-run institution, in 2013, ranged from about $129,000 a year in Arizona to about $603,000 in New York, while the average state costs of community-based services nationally is $43,000, according to the University of Colorado.
What this has left, though, is fewer residential options, and lengthening waiting lists. About 198,000 people were waiting for home- or community-based services in the 34 states that reported data in 2013, according to University of Minnesota research. The longest waiting lists were in Ohio (41,500), Illinois (23,000) and Florida (22,400).
Some states don’t keep waiting lists. In California, people with intellectual or developmental disabilities qualify for the services they need under a state-run health system. This means they should be getting the services they need.
But April Lopez, chairwoman of California’s State Council on Developmental Disabilities, said that’s not always the case there. Some services aren’t available when you need them, she said. The state’s reimbursement rate is so low, she said, it discourages doctors and health centers from providing services.
If states aren’t able to provide services for everyone, they should focus on providing more support for family caregivers, such as high-quality case management and respite services, said Susan Parish, director of the Lurie Institute for Disability Policy at Brandeis University in Massachusetts.
With medical, technological and public health advances, people with disabilities are living longer than before, Parish said. And with family size shrinking over the years, fewer siblings are around to assume care of their brother or sister as their parents age.
Caregivers need help transitioning out of their role — finding the person with disabilities a place to live, money, benefits and a new guardian, Parish said.
“I’ve worked with several parents who said they’ve hoped their son or daughter would die before they did because they don’t feel there are supports out there,” she said.
Some steps in some states
Beth Munro said she has felt that way, at times. She said she has been caring for Caroline on her own since she was 9 months old. Caroline has a brother and sister, but they live out of state and Beth doesn’t want them to have to take over her role. Caroline’s cerebral palsy affects both of her arms and legs. She is dependent for all of her care and can’t be left alone.
But her laugh is full of life, and she laughs often. Her mother says she is generally a happy person. She is in a day program with other adults with disabilities, and they often go out into the community, like to a nature center or to the movies.
Under Maryland law, people with intellectual or developmental disabilities who are transitioning out of the school system at age 21 receive some services. Yet 7,600 people on the waiting list in Maryland either have no services or need more.
Last year, Gov. Larry Hogan, a Republican, added $3 million to the budget, which served about 120 people who were deemed to be in crisis, and added $3.5 million this year for the same purpose.
This has been a bright spot in a decadeslong fight by the Maryland affiliate of The Arc to educate people and get more funding, said Cristine Marchand, its executive director.
In the past, the organization would suggest a new tax in the state to cover the expenses — a tax on snacks or telecommunications — and each time the governor at the time would take the money and use it for something else, Marchand said.
Whether a state makes progress addressing the issue has less to do with the political party in power and more to do with how much officials know about the issue, or how much influence advocates have, said Bernard Simons, Maryland’s deputy secretary for developmental disabilities.
Simons has worked in similar jobs in five other states and he said it’s the same wherever he goes — parents dying or getting sick, and children left with no plan in place.
States, including Maryland, need to be planning more, he said, instead of just reacting to emergencies.
In Pennsylvania, which has one of the largest waiting lists — about 13,800 people — Republican state Rep. Thomas Murt said he has several bills pending in the Legislature that would collect money specifically to provide services for the people on the list using different taxes, including on natural gas, tobacco, and vaping.
Like Maryland, Pennsylvania provides services for students transitioning out of school — about 700 a year. But sometimes it takes an older caregiver falling ill to get help, Murt said. “If another state is doing a better job, I think we should take a look at what they’re doing.”
Courts have ordered some states to provide more community-based services.
Virginia is making big changes to how it serves people with disabilities because of a 2011 settlement with the U.S. Department of Justice, which found that the state was needlessly keeping people in institutions and failing to provide enough community-based alternatives.
The state agreed to close down four of its five large institutions and serve 4,170 new people with community-based supports by 2021. (Click to continue)
Full Article & Source:
What happens to developmentally disabled as parents age, die?
Aline & Walt's Life with Dementia: Stage 5
VIDEO:
Aline has Alzheimer's. Her husband Walt cares for her in the comfort of their home. Share their journey through Stage 5 Alzheimer's, as Aline describes her feelings and Walt conveys his challenges.
Source:
Aline & Walt's Life with Dementia: Stage 5
Source:
Aline & Walt's Life with Dementia: Stage 5
Friday, August 26, 2016
Mequon lawyer gets prison for theft
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| Perry Friesler |
An attorney for Perry Friesler, 73, said his client had been suffering from undiagnosed bipolar disorder when he committed the crimes and had recommended probation was the proper sentence so Friesler could continue treatment and perform community service.
Over 40 years of legal practice, Jeremy Levinson said, Friesler was "honorable, diligent and devoted in all affairs, professional and otherwise," until his daughter began dying of Tay-Sachs disease. In 2012, a year after she died, Friesler tried to take his own life, which led to involuntary commitment and the first diagnoses and treatment of his mental health problems, Levinson said.
Assistant District Attorney Kurt Benkley acknowledged that Friesler experienced sad and tragic events but said they didn't cause the crimes, which extended over a period of 3 1/2 years of repeatedly writing checks from estates to himself, spending the money on selfish pursuits, and lying to the heirs and the courts to delay the truth.
Benkley called it unreasonable to allow Friesler "to go home to a leafy cul-de-sac in Mequon, do some community service and put this all behind him." Because of the betrayal of trust, the duration and amount of the thefts and the efforts to conceal his crime, Friesler should spend three years in prison, Benkley argued.
Milwaukee County Circuit Judge Thomas McAdams settled on the two years, plus three years of extended supervision. He said while he gave Friesler credit for the good life he led prior to his crimes, the aggravating factors required prison time to deter others in positions of trust.
"The message needs to be, if that's violated, there will be consequences," McAdams said.
He did allow Friesler — who his attorney said takes more than a dozen daily prescriptions for various physical and mental conditions — two weeks to meet with his doctors before surrendering to start his incarceration.
Friesler appeared in court in a dark suit and white shirt. In a brief statement, he told McAdams he took responsibility for his acts, was truly sorry and would abide by any sentence or penalty the judge imposed.
Levinson subpoenaed Circuit Judge William Sosnay as a character witness. Sosnay said that during the 14 years he practiced law in the same offices with Friesler, he was an honest, devoted partner and friend.
Friesler's psychotherapist testified that hypersexualization is a common symptom of untreated bipolar disorder and said Friesler's period of frequent trips to strip clubs — where Benkley said Friesler would withdraw hundreds of dollars from ATMs nightly — would be an expected manifestation.
Share Biesel, the psychotherapist, said Friesler has developed coping mechanisms but she feared that months in prison would increase his suicide risk.
Friesler pleaded guilty in February to a single count of theft greater than $10,000 in a business setting. Theft from a second estate was read-in at the sentencing. One estate was in Milwaukee County, the other in Ozaukee County. Both families were friends of Friesler's.
One heir told McAdams that while Friesler was acting as the personal representative of his mother's estate, her home was lost to foreclosure, though she had been current on her mortgage payments.
"How does a house get lost, like vapor?" said Matthew Port.
According to Levinson, after Friesler's commitment and treatment in 2012, Friesler realized what he had done, ended his practice and turned himself in to the Office of Lawyer Regulation. In 2013, he agreed to give up his law license rather than defend an OLR complaint and agreed to repay nearly $160,000.
When the Supreme Court revoked Friesler's license, Justice Shirley Abrahamson wrote separately, stating only, "The court has not been advised whether any criminal prosecution has been undertaken."
Prosecutors didn't charge Friesler until 2015.
At Monday's hearing, Benkley said Friesler hasn't paid a cent toward the victims' theft losses, which were covered instead by the Wisconsin Lawyers Fund for Victim Compensation and insurance. The heirs incurred tens of thousands of dollars in additional expenses suing Friesler and seeking the victim fund compensation, Benkley said.
A hearing on the final restitution amount is set for October.
Full Article & Source:
Mequon lawyer gets prison for theft
Decatur caregiver accused of stealing from elderly woman in her care
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| Nannette Tracey |
Det. De Leon with the Financial Crimes Unit investigated the case and discovered that someone had used the victim’s debit card without permission and had conducted multiple ATM transactions totaling more than $2,500 in withdrawals.
Investigators have arrested Nannette Marie Tracey in connection to the crime and have charged her with financial exploitation of the elderly.
Athorities say that Tracey was working at the victim’s residence as a caregiver at the time of the theft.
Tracey is in custody in the Morgan County Jail in lieu of a $5,000 bond.
Full Article & Source:
Decatur caregiver accused of stealing from elderly woman in her care
Thursday, August 25, 2016
For the First Time Ever, Guardianship Abuse is the Subject of a Political Ad, Featuring Veteran Guadelupe Olvera
Freedom Partners Action Fund today announced a new TV and digital ad campaign backed by $1.2 million in Nevada illustrating how Catherine Cortez Masto let down Nevada seniors by failing to hold a state government program accountable.
Guadalupe Olvera was a veteran of World War II. Olvera was also thrust into Nevada’s guardianship program, which the Las Vegas Review-Journal later described as “ripe for abuse.”
When his wife passed away in 2009, Olvera wanted to move to California. His daughter, who lived in California, wanted him to move there, too. So Olvera was assigned a temporary guardian until conservatorship could be transferred to California. However, his guardian soon after petitioned the court to make it permanent, and, just three months after his temporary Nevada guardian was assigned to him, Olvera’s trust was charged tens of thousands of dollars.
Growing worried, Olvera’s daughter filed a lawsuit to remove her father’s guardian—but the guardianship commissioner said no. Olvera finally escaped to California, but his guardian led an expensive court fight to maintain his control. Hundreds of thousands of dollars were billed to Olvera’s own estate, which his guardian still controlled.
Full Article and Source:
Freedom Partners Launches New Ad Showing How Catherine Cortez Masto Let Down Nevada Seniors
Guadalupe Olvera was a veteran of World War II. Olvera was also thrust into Nevada’s guardianship program, which the Las Vegas Review-Journal later described as “ripe for abuse.”
When his wife passed away in 2009, Olvera wanted to move to California. His daughter, who lived in California, wanted him to move there, too. So Olvera was assigned a temporary guardian until conservatorship could be transferred to California. However, his guardian soon after petitioned the court to make it permanent, and, just three months after his temporary Nevada guardian was assigned to him, Olvera’s trust was charged tens of thousands of dollars.
Growing worried, Olvera’s daughter filed a lawsuit to remove her father’s guardian—but the guardianship commissioner said no. Olvera finally escaped to California, but his guardian led an expensive court fight to maintain his control. Hundreds of thousands of dollars were billed to Olvera’s own estate, which his guardian still controlled.
Full Article and Source:
Freedom Partners Launches New Ad Showing How Catherine Cortez Masto Let Down Nevada Seniors
Famous faces of Alzheimer Disease
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| Perry Como, Ronald Reagan, Peter Falk |
Famous Actors and Actresses
First of all, some famous Actors and Actresses that have suffered with Alzheimer’s are Rita Hayworth, Ronald Reagan, James Stewart and Charlton Heston. There was also Charles Bronson, Peter Falk, Burgess Meredith, Eddie Albert, James Doohan, Jack Lord, and Mickey Rooney. Daytime soap fans had to say goodbye to Mary Fickett (Ruth Martin of All my Children,) and David Canary (Adam Chandler of All My Children) because of the disease. There have been many more but these are most noteworthy, relevant and recognizable names.
Famous Singers
Some famous singers that have suffered with Alzheimer’s Disease are Etta James and Perry Como. Glen Campbell is currently residing in a memory care facility in the Nashville area.
Catherine Falk heads up the Catherine Falk Organization and it was Catherine Falk that spearheaded the Campbell-Falk Bill which was passed into law this past May, 2016. Especially relevant is the Campbell Falk Bill was constructed to insure liberal access to a loved one who is a ward. That access is granted until it is proven in court that it shouldn’t be granted.
There are many organizations where you can get more information regarding Alzheimer’s Disease. There are 7 stages of the disease. It had been dubbed as “the long goodbye,” by Nancy Reagan, former first lady of the United States. Mrs. Reagan took care of her husband Ronald Reagan until the end with dignity and respect.
Alzheimer’s Disease is an equal opportunity disease and effects people in all walks of life. Early onset Alzheimer’s can begin as early as in your 40’s or 50’s.
Full Article and Source:
The Famous Faces of Alzheimer Disease
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