The whole saga should have ended with Diane's passing but, of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. As he is convinced her brother is going to keep the proceeds from her estate sale and not give her a proper Catholic burial, Al is busy calling my Uncle Ray, hoping that he'll use his money and influence to insure that Diane gets a just sendoff. He is also busy calling me, telling me the same stories about all the good times he and Diane had enjoyed and how happy she was when they did things together, all the while still not being able to grasp how she pissed away all that money. Then I have sister-in-law Leigh Ann calling.
I tell her about the feelings of the Catholic side of the family, and point out that I don't give a shit what they do at this point since, as far as I was concerned, Diane was already with George. Think she got a little upset with the idea they wouldn't give Diane a decent funeral and, as she's talking it through with me, shares some other tidbits along the way. Things like how Diane visited once or twice a year and how she always sent gifts for their kids (odd considering Diane told us her family had nothing to do with her). Or that Diane gave them the official State of Oklahoma ornament for Christmas every year. This was notable, since we made sure we always got one of the very same ornament for Diane each year...
Fortunately, Leigh assured me they were going to have a proper Catholic funeral for Diane. It took a bit of arranging but it did happen about three weeks after Diane's passing. It was mostly uneventful and sparsely attended (since they didn't pay to publish an obit), but where it got weird was seeing Al conducting his own little wake service for Diane in the back of the church, greeting people as they arrived, and pointing them towards book of photos of his travels with Diane. While I thought that was in bad taste, I got over it and hoped to get through the funeral mass as fast as possible. But no, even this wasn't going to be that easy.
Afterwards, Diane's brother Michael and Leigh ask us to come to the cemetery for the committal of the remains. In the Catholic world, this is a ceremony where the mourners travel to the grave site for a five minute or less ceremony where the priest says final prayers over the casket or urn. Easy, right? Not so much this time...
Before we can ever get out of the church parking lot, Al crosses paths with Leigh and Michael and says something under his breath. I didn't hear it but Michael and Leigh both swear he called them assholes and suddenly I thought I was going to have to break up a fight between a 55-year old and a 70-year old. Fortunately, it didn't come to that...
So now we're ready to go to the cemetery, except we're going to follow the priest who moves at a snail's pace and we don't leave until 45 minutes after the service was over. Then, as we're proceeding toward the most expeditious route to the cemetery (about a 15 minute trip), the priest turns left to take 36th Street. This is fine, except it's much, much slower. Turns out Father Howard isn't real keen on NW Highway and it's 45 mph speed limit, so instead he takes 36th and it's 40 mph speed limit, less traffic and stoplights every half mile or so. OK fine, except Father Howard had trouble topping out at 35 mph and what should have been a 15 minute journey turned into a tortuous, 35 minute death march (no pun intended). But the end was in sight!
We get to the cemetery and there were Diane's cremains, in the same box they were shipped in from D.C. It was covered in some ornamental velvet, but no fancy urn here. Just the shipping box!
My wife and I, Michael and Leigh, and a friend of Leigh's who lives in OKC sit for the five minute service and it's over. Or so I thought...
We get a call from Leigh that night, upset that no one said anything to them at the service and thinking Al had trashed them to everyone in the church. While I couldn't say that wasn't the case for sure, I did at least try to get Leigh to feel better and got her talking about other things. And this is where the biggest clues to the Diane puzzle came to light.
First, Leigh mentions that in Diane's paperwork, they found documents indicating Diane had taken a loan against the house as early as 2001, just two years after George died. My guess is, rather than ever having the temerity to repay it, she just kept spending, refinancing, and upping her debt load until she finally maxed out the value of the house to the point that she couldn't get any more out of it, couldn't refinance it, and suddenly was faced with actually having to pay off all the debt she'd accumulated.
Then, in talking about Diane's family history, she mentioned that Diane was somewhat estranged from her father after he'd remarried and started a family with his new wife. Then Leigh said something that might explain it all. That was, "Her stay at Vinita probably didn't help her standing in the family either." I let it slide the first time she said but when she mentioned it again, suddenly, a lot of things made sense. You see, there's a state mental hospital in Vinita, Oklahoma, and apparently Diane had a little stay there.
Everything else is conjecture but it sure does explain a lot. Given the time period, one might guess that whatever mental problem Diane had might have been treated with electroshock therapy. And, as awful as it might have been (and the thought of some untreated or undiagnosed depression is even worse), that sure as hell would have explained the incomparably stupid spending, mindless grin, the slack jawed stares, the simple-mindedness, the inability to grasp reality, the blurting out of any question or thought the instant it came to mind, and the utter devotion to my Uncle George. Maybe it was The Big Zot that sent Diane into the quasi-lobotomized state she seemed to be in...
But in the end, the question of what made Diane the way she was, like all the other questions raised in this saga, (such as Where did all that money go? What were you thinking? How dumb are you? and What the hell's the matter with you?) can only be answered thusly: We'll never know...
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Ash Tray To Ashes
Then she started getting better...
According to Al, Diane was actually getting better and they were looking for a way to get her home. That was going to be a chore, since she'd need to fly with a doctor and nurse in a hospital plane, which meant they had to wait for an injured solider needing to return to Oklahoma or the vicinity. Once here, arrangements had been made for Diane to move to a an extended care hospital (since she would likely spend the rest of her life on a ventilator) in OKC and then to a full, long term care facility in Tulsa. According to Al, some of Diane's coherence and sense of humor (as it was) had returned too, since, while communicating via notes, she wrote down a request for a cigarette. Knowing Diane as I did, I bet she was serious!
As Al calls with updates, he also shares little tidbits that he'd come across. Among them, while Diane told Al she'd quit smoking, he'd discovered from talking with friends around the hood that she'd simply go down the street and mooch smokes off a neighbor and smoke in their house. Something else he discovered was that Diane would often go to the casino with her yard man. Through it all, Al was still sick over the fact that all Diane's stuff had been sold while she was still alive and that her coming "home" to find that out was "going to kill her." He was also convinced Michael had just pocketed all the money. Either way, I didn't care...I was out of this deal. Though I was glad Diane was recovering, the most life she was going to recover would be to spend her remaining days in a hospital hooked to a ventilator. Ultimately, she was well enough that plans were made for her to fly in a plane to drop off an injured soldier in Arkansas, and then they would would fly Diane back here.
My concern with the whole Diane situation went straight to zero on October 3rd, when my Dad had a mini-stroke and was hospitalized. After visiting him in the hospital on Friday morning, I get home to a message from Al and a call from my Uncle Ray informing me that Diane had died. Apparently, just three days before she would return to Oklahoma, she'd developed an infection her body had no ability to fight off.
According to Al, Diane was actually getting better and they were looking for a way to get her home. That was going to be a chore, since she'd need to fly with a doctor and nurse in a hospital plane, which meant they had to wait for an injured solider needing to return to Oklahoma or the vicinity. Once here, arrangements had been made for Diane to move to a an extended care hospital (since she would likely spend the rest of her life on a ventilator) in OKC and then to a full, long term care facility in Tulsa. According to Al, some of Diane's coherence and sense of humor (as it was) had returned too, since, while communicating via notes, she wrote down a request for a cigarette. Knowing Diane as I did, I bet she was serious!
As Al calls with updates, he also shares little tidbits that he'd come across. Among them, while Diane told Al she'd quit smoking, he'd discovered from talking with friends around the hood that she'd simply go down the street and mooch smokes off a neighbor and smoke in their house. Something else he discovered was that Diane would often go to the casino with her yard man. Through it all, Al was still sick over the fact that all Diane's stuff had been sold while she was still alive and that her coming "home" to find that out was "going to kill her." He was also convinced Michael had just pocketed all the money. Either way, I didn't care...I was out of this deal. Though I was glad Diane was recovering, the most life she was going to recover would be to spend her remaining days in a hospital hooked to a ventilator. Ultimately, she was well enough that plans were made for her to fly in a plane to drop off an injured soldier in Arkansas, and then they would would fly Diane back here.
My concern with the whole Diane situation went straight to zero on October 3rd, when my Dad had a mini-stroke and was hospitalized. After visiting him in the hospital on Friday morning, I get home to a message from Al and a call from my Uncle Ray informing me that Diane had died. Apparently, just three days before she would return to Oklahoma, she'd developed an infection her body had no ability to fight off.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Second Hand Smoke
Al gives me the phone number of Diane's brother Michael. Based on what Al had told me, Michael didn't have much time for Diane and I honestly didn't expect much. If nothing else, I just wanted him to be aware of the situation.
So I once again had the pleasure of calling someone out of the blue and telling them Diane was indeed going to lose her house along with many of the sordid details. When I drop the f-word (foreclosure), I hear a female gasp on the line and find that Michael's wife Leigh was listening in and jumped into the discussion. I wind up on the phone with them for over an hour and they both recognize the immediate need to get Diane's stuff out before the sheriff comes in. Much to my surprise, they're gonna take over the show. Initially, they think it might be a project they could do with my help. I enlist my cousin Mark (who had foolishly offered to help wherever needed) and his son to help out. Fortunately, Michael calls back a couple days later and tells me they were going to take a bit of time and figure the best way to proceed. Fine by me, because this meant I was out of this loop! Thinking back, I remember it was odd that Michael expressed concern about the cost of a funeral during this initial conversation...
During this time, Diane's condition hadn't gotten any better. After some ups and downs, she was downgraded again and was in the middle level of Walter's Reed's ICU. She was not all that coherent and they had a positive pressure oxygen mask on her which, if she removed it and tried to talk, she'd start losing consciousness in 10-15 seconds due to lack of oxygen. They think they've done all they can for her and, since she can't fly home, she will likely be moved to a extended care nursing facility. Her prognosis for any form of recovery is not good.
A few days later, Al calls and tells me he had let Michael in the house so that he could collect any pertinent paperwork ( I had offered everything I had, as well). Apparently, Al and Michael got into some kind of a row during Michael's visit stemming from Al's annoyance at Michaels' lack of concern for his sister and greater emphasis on gathering documents. Shortly thereafter Al tells me of an argument he had with Leigh over the phone where she warned him (Al) not to talk to me. So now I don't know if they're cutting me out because they don't trust me or if they're trying to get away with something of their own. But, either way, I don't care because this is no longer my problem.
A week or two goes by and I hadn't heard anything back from Michael and Leigh, save for a message from Leigh telling me they'd bought a couple extra weeks of time. Then I get a call from Al telling me an estate sale sign was up in Diane's yard. An estate sale was an alternative I'd looked into where a company came in, took everything out, warehoused it, and then sold it after Diane's return or passing.
Hearing this, my first call was to Mark Price, the attorney who handled George's estate. I apprised him of the situation (that is, Diane's brother selling her stuff while she's still alive) and asked if I had any options to step in and stop it. Unfortunately, as a non-blood relative, the law would give preference to the next of kin, blood relative. Price said that, even though Michael's actions were pushing the envelope of legality, his best advice to me was to walk away, figuring that by assuming her estate he (Michael) would also assume dealing with her debts and liabilities. Further, if there was anything me or anyone in the family wanted that might have been Mamaw's or Papaw's, I should just go and buy it.
Since, outside of a Hummel nativity scene and a little Toby mug, I had no clue what was Mamaw's and Papaw's, I pretty much decided just to let it all go. Seeing how being honest didn't pay, I decided to cruise over there one night to see if I could just help myself to the plaque on the door (that read, "The George Flanagans" which was really the only thing I wanted from that house). With power drill in hand, I was pleasantly surprised to see the estate sale people had left the storm door unlocked. Opening the door and pulling back the sea shell wreath on the door, I was dismayed to see that Diane had already removed it, probably when all the process servers started showing up.
In a perfect world, my hope was brother Michael would put the money he realized from this sale in a trust to pay Diane's debts and expenses. However, my darkest fear was that, when she did pass, he might pocket the money, claim no interest in the matter and try to bury her with no decent funeral or just ignore it completely and leave it all to our side of the family. Unfortunately, the law can't act on perceived intent and I didn't have much of a leg to stand on.
Finally, a day or two before the estate sale, Leigh calls me and tells me about it. I was comforted that she called and I tell her I'm not happy they're doing it while she was still alive, but that I can understand they're in the same boat I am, in that, why should they spend their money to move and warehouse all that stuff and then worry about selling it. She reassured me they were going to put any funds realized aside to pay for any funeral or other expenses Diane might incur.
The sale worked out well for us, as Jennifer went early to try and snag any silver that might have been Mamaw's and, when she told them who she was, they gave her a bag of stuff they were going to toss, including my Mother's baby book with locks of her hair and her baptismal dress! I went over on closing day Saturday and bought an old cabinet at a deep discount...
So I once again had the pleasure of calling someone out of the blue and telling them Diane was indeed going to lose her house along with many of the sordid details. When I drop the f-word (foreclosure), I hear a female gasp on the line and find that Michael's wife Leigh was listening in and jumped into the discussion. I wind up on the phone with them for over an hour and they both recognize the immediate need to get Diane's stuff out before the sheriff comes in. Much to my surprise, they're gonna take over the show. Initially, they think it might be a project they could do with my help. I enlist my cousin Mark (who had foolishly offered to help wherever needed) and his son to help out. Fortunately, Michael calls back a couple days later and tells me they were going to take a bit of time and figure the best way to proceed. Fine by me, because this meant I was out of this loop! Thinking back, I remember it was odd that Michael expressed concern about the cost of a funeral during this initial conversation...
During this time, Diane's condition hadn't gotten any better. After some ups and downs, she was downgraded again and was in the middle level of Walter's Reed's ICU. She was not all that coherent and they had a positive pressure oxygen mask on her which, if she removed it and tried to talk, she'd start losing consciousness in 10-15 seconds due to lack of oxygen. They think they've done all they can for her and, since she can't fly home, she will likely be moved to a extended care nursing facility. Her prognosis for any form of recovery is not good.
A few days later, Al calls and tells me he had let Michael in the house so that he could collect any pertinent paperwork ( I had offered everything I had, as well). Apparently, Al and Michael got into some kind of a row during Michael's visit stemming from Al's annoyance at Michaels' lack of concern for his sister and greater emphasis on gathering documents. Shortly thereafter Al tells me of an argument he had with Leigh over the phone where she warned him (Al) not to talk to me. So now I don't know if they're cutting me out because they don't trust me or if they're trying to get away with something of their own. But, either way, I don't care because this is no longer my problem.
A week or two goes by and I hadn't heard anything back from Michael and Leigh, save for a message from Leigh telling me they'd bought a couple extra weeks of time. Then I get a call from Al telling me an estate sale sign was up in Diane's yard. An estate sale was an alternative I'd looked into where a company came in, took everything out, warehoused it, and then sold it after Diane's return or passing.
Hearing this, my first call was to Mark Price, the attorney who handled George's estate. I apprised him of the situation (that is, Diane's brother selling her stuff while she's still alive) and asked if I had any options to step in and stop it. Unfortunately, as a non-blood relative, the law would give preference to the next of kin, blood relative. Price said that, even though Michael's actions were pushing the envelope of legality, his best advice to me was to walk away, figuring that by assuming her estate he (Michael) would also assume dealing with her debts and liabilities. Further, if there was anything me or anyone in the family wanted that might have been Mamaw's or Papaw's, I should just go and buy it.
Since, outside of a Hummel nativity scene and a little Toby mug, I had no clue what was Mamaw's and Papaw's, I pretty much decided just to let it all go. Seeing how being honest didn't pay, I decided to cruise over there one night to see if I could just help myself to the plaque on the door (that read, "The George Flanagans" which was really the only thing I wanted from that house). With power drill in hand, I was pleasantly surprised to see the estate sale people had left the storm door unlocked. Opening the door and pulling back the sea shell wreath on the door, I was dismayed to see that Diane had already removed it, probably when all the process servers started showing up.
In a perfect world, my hope was brother Michael would put the money he realized from this sale in a trust to pay Diane's debts and expenses. However, my darkest fear was that, when she did pass, he might pocket the money, claim no interest in the matter and try to bury her with no decent funeral or just ignore it completely and leave it all to our side of the family. Unfortunately, the law can't act on perceived intent and I didn't have much of a leg to stand on.
Finally, a day or two before the estate sale, Leigh calls me and tells me about it. I was comforted that she called and I tell her I'm not happy they're doing it while she was still alive, but that I can understand they're in the same boat I am, in that, why should they spend their money to move and warehouse all that stuff and then worry about selling it. She reassured me they were going to put any funds realized aside to pay for any funeral or other expenses Diane might incur.
The sale worked out well for us, as Jennifer went early to try and snag any silver that might have been Mamaw's and, when she told them who she was, they gave her a bag of stuff they were going to toss, including my Mother's baby book with locks of her hair and her baptismal dress! I went over on closing day Saturday and bought an old cabinet at a deep discount...
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Now It Gets Ugly!
As the days go by, Al gets in touch a few more times and shares a few other things that Diane had failed to disclose over the years. Primary among them was the fact, though she had always said she had nothing to do with her siblings, Al had, in fact, driven her to visit brother Michael in NE Oklahoma awhile back. This was notable since Al mentioned he had to call Michael to give his permission as next of kin to the hospital to place Diane on a ventilator.
Now we had two scenarios that were gonna play out. The first was someone was going to have to get into Diane's house before the eviction date. Scenario two was do nothing, let the eviction happen, and see all her stuff placed out on the curb or taken into storage limbo. Before Diane left for DC, I had contacted a local estate sale company, apprised them of the situation, and found that they could and would move everything out, store it (until Diane's death or return), then sell everything or whatever she didn't need. Al tells me he wasn't going to let me break into her house. As I explain to Al that, to keep it all above board, I'd have to go get legal guardianship to do it. Throughout all this, Al had said that he wasn't sure where Diane's keys were, alternately telling me, they might still be in Diane's purse in DC, at his niece's place in DC where he'd stayed, or maybe even still packed away in his bag which he hadn't bothered to unpack yet. I mention I'm planning to get legal guardianship (my fear here was that upon her death, one of the allegedly long lost brothers would show up wondering where all her stuff went and what did that fast talking nephew have to do with it). Only then does Al say, "You get legal guardianship, and I'll find the keys." Turns out he knew all along Diane had left her keys in his car.
When I speak to a couple of attorneys, I find the fee for such a service is gonna run $2000-$3000, Don't think I'm gonna go and get legal guardianship! Now I make a call to Legal Aid. Give them all my info and wait to hear back from them. However, the more I think about it, I'm still not next of kin and, technically, I'm not even a blood relative and even if I did go through all this hassle, her brother would still have legal claim to her estate and I'd be on the hook for even more of my time and money. Decided it was time to share the burden.
Now we had two scenarios that were gonna play out. The first was someone was going to have to get into Diane's house before the eviction date. Scenario two was do nothing, let the eviction happen, and see all her stuff placed out on the curb or taken into storage limbo. Before Diane left for DC, I had contacted a local estate sale company, apprised them of the situation, and found that they could and would move everything out, store it (until Diane's death or return), then sell everything or whatever she didn't need. Al tells me he wasn't going to let me break into her house. As I explain to Al that, to keep it all above board, I'd have to go get legal guardianship to do it. Throughout all this, Al had said that he wasn't sure where Diane's keys were, alternately telling me, they might still be in Diane's purse in DC, at his niece's place in DC where he'd stayed, or maybe even still packed away in his bag which he hadn't bothered to unpack yet. I mention I'm planning to get legal guardianship (my fear here was that upon her death, one of the allegedly long lost brothers would show up wondering where all her stuff went and what did that fast talking nephew have to do with it). Only then does Al say, "You get legal guardianship, and I'll find the keys." Turns out he knew all along Diane had left her keys in his car.
When I speak to a couple of attorneys, I find the fee for such a service is gonna run $2000-$3000, Don't think I'm gonna go and get legal guardianship! Now I make a call to Legal Aid. Give them all my info and wait to hear back from them. However, the more I think about it, I'm still not next of kin and, technically, I'm not even a blood relative and even if I did go through all this hassle, her brother would still have legal claim to her estate and I'd be on the hook for even more of my time and money. Decided it was time to share the burden.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Smoke On The Water
I heard from Diane in Walter Reed Hospital in Washington D.C. on a Friday and she tells me she'll be released and able to come home the following Monday. I wait until Wednesday to call. No answer. Call again Thursday evening. No answer. Call Friday...no answer. Obviously she's still hospitalized somewhere. The following Tuesday I have to jump through several hoops to find out that she's still in Walter Reed and, with no phone in her room, unable to take or make calls.
I wait a few days and try to get hold of boyfriend Al, who made the trip with her. Call his son who gives me his cell phone number and tells me that Diane was the one who wanted Al to make the trip and they went to D.C. for a wedding of the son of a friend of Diane's. This was interesting since Diane didn't really have many friends, save the women of the Gatewood Girls, a loose social group of women who, like Diane, lived in the Gatewood neighborhood. My guess is Diane was invited to this wedding because 1. They thought she would never show, and 2. they had to invite her because it would have been socially rude to invite some of the girls and not all...As far as why Diane went, I have two more theories: 1. The wedding was held in the same church where President Bush occasionally attends when he wants to put on a show for his neo-con right wing Christian fan base and Diane thought perhaps he would be there and she could meet him, and/or 2. While meeting Bush, she could ask for a pardon or a federal bailout from all her debt...Either way, I'm guessing the mother of groom would have fallen over from shock when she came down that aisle and saw Diane grinning stupidly at her. Turns out it never happened as Diane went to the hospital about two hours after she got off the plane
On August 2 (a week before the sheriff's sale of her house) I get hold of Al in D.C. on his cell phone. Al seemed shocked that I called and was even more shocked when I told him I checked in on Diane once a week or so. Seems Diane had told him no one in her "family" ever checked up on her.
Turns out Diane had taken a turn for the worse and was not doing well at all. She's on a ventilator and not very coherent. Al also mentions Diane suffers from COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease, caused by, you guessed it, smoking!) and had undergone chemotherapy to treat myelodysplasia (essentially pre-leukemia) a year or two ago. Two small little things Diane had failed to ever mention to me or anyone else save for Al....
I don't say anything to Al about Diane's situation and decide to wait until the day of the sheriff's sale to tell him about it, and that would only be if Diane was still out it. A week goes by and I call Al. There's no change in Diane's condition and she's not real coherent. Take a deep breath and tell Al all the sordid details, specifically about the foreclosure on Diane's house. His reaction, "How can that be?" I give him as many details as I can and I almost hear the man deflate as I go through the story. By now, he's been in D.C. three weeks and says he has to get back to town to take care of some of his own business and that we'll talk more next week.
The following Monday, I get a call from my cousin Mark, telling me an attorney had called him, saying he'd been visited by a guy named Al and did I know anything about Diane losing her house. I fill Mark in and realize that Al, not believing that Diane would have been dumb enough to mortgage her own home to the hilt and suddenly hearing about it from her fast-talking nephew, might have been thinking Diane had been taken by said nephew (your humble correspondent). Finally hear from Al a few days later (after he realizes I'm actually trying to bail Diane out I guess) and we start trying to figure out what to do next...
I wait a few days and try to get hold of boyfriend Al, who made the trip with her. Call his son who gives me his cell phone number and tells me that Diane was the one who wanted Al to make the trip and they went to D.C. for a wedding of the son of a friend of Diane's. This was interesting since Diane didn't really have many friends, save the women of the Gatewood Girls, a loose social group of women who, like Diane, lived in the Gatewood neighborhood. My guess is Diane was invited to this wedding because 1. They thought she would never show, and 2. they had to invite her because it would have been socially rude to invite some of the girls and not all...As far as why Diane went, I have two more theories: 1. The wedding was held in the same church where President Bush occasionally attends when he wants to put on a show for his neo-con right wing Christian fan base and Diane thought perhaps he would be there and she could meet him, and/or 2. While meeting Bush, she could ask for a pardon or a federal bailout from all her debt...Either way, I'm guessing the mother of groom would have fallen over from shock when she came down that aisle and saw Diane grinning stupidly at her. Turns out it never happened as Diane went to the hospital about two hours after she got off the plane
On August 2 (a week before the sheriff's sale of her house) I get hold of Al in D.C. on his cell phone. Al seemed shocked that I called and was even more shocked when I told him I checked in on Diane once a week or so. Seems Diane had told him no one in her "family" ever checked up on her.
Turns out Diane had taken a turn for the worse and was not doing well at all. She's on a ventilator and not very coherent. Al also mentions Diane suffers from COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease, caused by, you guessed it, smoking!) and had undergone chemotherapy to treat myelodysplasia (essentially pre-leukemia) a year or two ago. Two small little things Diane had failed to ever mention to me or anyone else save for Al....
I don't say anything to Al about Diane's situation and decide to wait until the day of the sheriff's sale to tell him about it, and that would only be if Diane was still out it. A week goes by and I call Al. There's no change in Diane's condition and she's not real coherent. Take a deep breath and tell Al all the sordid details, specifically about the foreclosure on Diane's house. His reaction, "How can that be?" I give him as many details as I can and I almost hear the man deflate as I go through the story. By now, he's been in D.C. three weeks and says he has to get back to town to take care of some of his own business and that we'll talk more next week.
The following Monday, I get a call from my cousin Mark, telling me an attorney had called him, saying he'd been visited by a guy named Al and did I know anything about Diane losing her house. I fill Mark in and realize that Al, not believing that Diane would have been dumb enough to mortgage her own home to the hilt and suddenly hearing about it from her fast-talking nephew, might have been thinking Diane had been taken by said nephew (your humble correspondent). Finally hear from Al a few days later (after he realizes I'm actually trying to bail Diane out I guess) and we start trying to figure out what to do next...
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Girls Just Wanna Have Phlegm!
The following week, I make contact with the attorney and schedule a meeting with Diane to start the bankruptcy ball rolling. Filing bankruptcy would buy her 60-90 days, which would give her more time to find another place to live and to figure out what to keep and what to sell or store. The meeting was set for Friday of that week.
I call Diane that day to tell her about it and got no answer and no call back. Same story the next day. This was unusual since Diane would usually look at her caller ID to see who called and call me back accordingly. So, on Wednesday night, I decide to go over to the house and see if anything was amiss. (And only half jesting, I told my wife I was going over to see if she was dead) After a few minutes spent banging on the door and walking around the place, her neighbor comes by. I introduce myself and ask him if he knows where Diane is. He proceeds to tell me that she and her male companion Al took a week's vacation to Washington, DC!!!!!!!! Did she say a word to me about it? Noooooooooooo!!!!!!
So there it is in a nutshell, Diane vacations while Bill bails her ass out!!!!!!! And that $300 she needed for oxygen equipment? I'm guessing that went instead to pay for her trip! Right then, I had half a mind to wash my hands of this deal and watch her sit there doing nothing till the sheriff came to evict her and throw all her crap out on the curb! I was fucking pissed!!!!!!!!!
Oddly enough, the following Friday, I got a call from my beloved Aunt Diane! Needless to say, she was shocked when I finished her sentence which began, "I'm in...."
But then she said, "And I'm back in the hospital." Yes, she was at Walter Reed with her third bout of pneumonia in the last four months! Went on to say the doctor said she could fly home the following Monday (wouldn't you like to have been be the lucky passenger who got to sit next to that mucus machine for three or four hours!)
But the best part is, she actually had the stupidity to ask if I'd heard anything good from the attorney, (overlooking the irony of me doing all her damn legwork while she's coughing all over the capital!). Holding my tongue, I told her that there was no good news, that she'd have to file bankruptcy when she got back that she'd have to find someplace else to live, because yes, she's gonna lose the house. Her response? "Well that's probably gonna take them awhile...."
So since she was sick, I was denied the opportunity to unload on her. My wife told me I sounded pissed while I was talking to Diane, but sadly, such subtle little nuances seem to elude her. I started to wonder seriously, since she seemed to be getting weaker with every round of pneumonia, if sooner or later, that one big phlegm ball with her name on it is gonna catch up to her and send her to that great big ash tray in the sky...
I call Diane that day to tell her about it and got no answer and no call back. Same story the next day. This was unusual since Diane would usually look at her caller ID to see who called and call me back accordingly. So, on Wednesday night, I decide to go over to the house and see if anything was amiss. (And only half jesting, I told my wife I was going over to see if she was dead) After a few minutes spent banging on the door and walking around the place, her neighbor comes by. I introduce myself and ask him if he knows where Diane is. He proceeds to tell me that she and her male companion Al took a week's vacation to Washington, DC!!!!!!!! Did she say a word to me about it? Noooooooooooo!!!!!!
So there it is in a nutshell, Diane vacations while Bill bails her ass out!!!!!!! And that $300 she needed for oxygen equipment? I'm guessing that went instead to pay for her trip! Right then, I had half a mind to wash my hands of this deal and watch her sit there doing nothing till the sheriff came to evict her and throw all her crap out on the curb! I was fucking pissed!!!!!!!!!
Oddly enough, the following Friday, I got a call from my beloved Aunt Diane! Needless to say, she was shocked when I finished her sentence which began, "I'm in...."
But then she said, "And I'm back in the hospital." Yes, she was at Walter Reed with her third bout of pneumonia in the last four months! Went on to say the doctor said she could fly home the following Monday (wouldn't you like to have been be the lucky passenger who got to sit next to that mucus machine for three or four hours!)
But the best part is, she actually had the stupidity to ask if I'd heard anything good from the attorney, (overlooking the irony of me doing all her damn legwork while she's coughing all over the capital!). Holding my tongue, I told her that there was no good news, that she'd have to file bankruptcy when she got back that she'd have to find someplace else to live, because yes, she's gonna lose the house. Her response? "Well that's probably gonna take them awhile...."
So since she was sick, I was denied the opportunity to unload on her. My wife told me I sounded pissed while I was talking to Diane, but sadly, such subtle little nuances seem to elude her. I started to wonder seriously, since she seemed to be getting weaker with every round of pneumonia, if sooner or later, that one big phlegm ball with her name on it is gonna catch up to her and send her to that great big ash tray in the sky...
Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
As summer began, things began to slow down in Diane's little saga. Some things didn't change however as, whenever I asked her where the $185k went, the only response I got was, "I don't know."
In early June, Diane was hospitalized once again with pneumonia. As before, what she said would be a five day hospital stay turned into 10. When she returned home this time, it was obvious this round had taken a lot out of her and she was on oxygen day and night. Her weakened condition was obvious when I went by to pick up some documents and found her sitting on the front porch, looking like hell (which in her case...well, never mind) with an oxygen tube up her nose and a stupid, mindless grin on her face.
In this time, I was still working with Countrywide to try to figure a way out of foreclosure and with the FBI to do whatever I could do to nail the con man. However, in July, things changed. Though I had previously taken as gospel Diane's fuzzy tale of being taken by a con man, some elements become clearer after I had a chat with the FBI agent working the case. Though she was taken and her credit used to purchase other houses, according to the G-man, she apparently did go out and legitimately get a loan against the house before ever contacting the con man. Thus, she pissed all that money away and wound up at the con man to try and refinance her first loan! Needless to say, I lost much of the sympathy I had for Diane after this conversation.
This was all the more frustrating when one considers that Diane came to me needing $300 and offering me a post-dated check payable on the 25th in return. Said she had some extra bills she couldn't pay related to the oxygen equipment she's had to pay for since her second round of pneumonia. This was driven home when she couldn't stand on the front porch for more than 30 seconds without having to sit down to catch her breath.
This was all well and good, except for the fact that, according to the FBI agent on the case, she also went to the credit union that holds the note on her car wanting to squeeze $300 more out of that loan because "a sister had passed away out of town"! (she doesn't have any sisters) When they turned her down and suggested she go to family in town, she told them she didn't have any family here!!!!! Also of note here, Diane had the balls (or stupidity) to go to the same credit union where she had fraudulently cashed the insurance check. When that was mentioned to her, she told the lady at the credit union the FBI would take care of that! I mention that because, when recounting to me the story he'd gotten from the lady at the credit union, the FBI agent quoted Diane almost verbatim using the same pitch she'd used when she called me.
Now it was obvious Diane had a little bit of con man in her as well and, though I was tempted to wash my hands of the whole thing, I still felt sorry for her and felt like I needed to see it through till the end. Turns out, the end was coming faster than I knew.
In late July, my phone rings. I pick it up and without a hello or anything else, Diane immediately says, "They're gonna sell my house." The sheriff's sale date was three weeks away and she would likely need to vacate two to three weeks after that. Though I had told her all along this was very possible, she seemed surprised by all of this. I advised her to start thinking about what possessions she wanted to sell or store and what she wanted to take with her when she moved.
I tried to remind Diane that there were still options, however. I knew she could file bankruptcy and, if nothing else, buy some time and get out from under the rest of her other debt. And, though it hadn't been promising, I was still trying to figure something out with Countrywide.
My first call was to Diane's bankruptcy attorney. He was out of town and wouldn't be back around till the following Monday. From there, I called Countrywide. Once we all got on the same page, they pretty much realized very quickly that she didn't have any options, save for rolling the delinquent payments back into the note, giving her an even bigger monthly payment. Hearing that, it was time to find Diane someplace to live.
It was plainly obvious Diane needed to be in some form of a senior center. I priced an apartment or two but most of them were somewhat pricey and offered little security for an old lady. I then spent a fair bit of my free time trying to find out what it would take to get Diane into a senior type place she could afford. For the Catholic ones, she either had too much income to qualify for the low income center or just barely enough income to afford a nice independent living center. Problem there was, they didn't have any studios available. I then looked at city funded senior housing. She could certainly afford it, but there were no openings at any of the centers she would want to live and the application and wait process was going to take too long.
Finally I settled on some nice high-rise apartments downtown that offered reasonable rates,all bills paid, six month or one year leases and private garage and secure entry while still leaving her about $1500 a month to live on. Now all we had to do was get bankruptcy filed....
In early June, Diane was hospitalized once again with pneumonia. As before, what she said would be a five day hospital stay turned into 10. When she returned home this time, it was obvious this round had taken a lot out of her and she was on oxygen day and night. Her weakened condition was obvious when I went by to pick up some documents and found her sitting on the front porch, looking like hell (which in her case...well, never mind) with an oxygen tube up her nose and a stupid, mindless grin on her face.
In this time, I was still working with Countrywide to try to figure a way out of foreclosure and with the FBI to do whatever I could do to nail the con man. However, in July, things changed. Though I had previously taken as gospel Diane's fuzzy tale of being taken by a con man, some elements become clearer after I had a chat with the FBI agent working the case. Though she was taken and her credit used to purchase other houses, according to the G-man, she apparently did go out and legitimately get a loan against the house before ever contacting the con man. Thus, she pissed all that money away and wound up at the con man to try and refinance her first loan! Needless to say, I lost much of the sympathy I had for Diane after this conversation.
This was all the more frustrating when one considers that Diane came to me needing $300 and offering me a post-dated check payable on the 25th in return. Said she had some extra bills she couldn't pay related to the oxygen equipment she's had to pay for since her second round of pneumonia. This was driven home when she couldn't stand on the front porch for more than 30 seconds without having to sit down to catch her breath.
This was all well and good, except for the fact that, according to the FBI agent on the case, she also went to the credit union that holds the note on her car wanting to squeeze $300 more out of that loan because "a sister had passed away out of town"! (she doesn't have any sisters) When they turned her down and suggested she go to family in town, she told them she didn't have any family here!!!!! Also of note here, Diane had the balls (or stupidity) to go to the same credit union where she had fraudulently cashed the insurance check. When that was mentioned to her, she told the lady at the credit union the FBI would take care of that! I mention that because, when recounting to me the story he'd gotten from the lady at the credit union, the FBI agent quoted Diane almost verbatim using the same pitch she'd used when she called me.
Now it was obvious Diane had a little bit of con man in her as well and, though I was tempted to wash my hands of the whole thing, I still felt sorry for her and felt like I needed to see it through till the end. Turns out, the end was coming faster than I knew.
In late July, my phone rings. I pick it up and without a hello or anything else, Diane immediately says, "They're gonna sell my house." The sheriff's sale date was three weeks away and she would likely need to vacate two to three weeks after that. Though I had told her all along this was very possible, she seemed surprised by all of this. I advised her to start thinking about what possessions she wanted to sell or store and what she wanted to take with her when she moved.
I tried to remind Diane that there were still options, however. I knew she could file bankruptcy and, if nothing else, buy some time and get out from under the rest of her other debt. And, though it hadn't been promising, I was still trying to figure something out with Countrywide.
My first call was to Diane's bankruptcy attorney. He was out of town and wouldn't be back around till the following Monday. From there, I called Countrywide. Once we all got on the same page, they pretty much realized very quickly that she didn't have any options, save for rolling the delinquent payments back into the note, giving her an even bigger monthly payment. Hearing that, it was time to find Diane someplace to live.
It was plainly obvious Diane needed to be in some form of a senior center. I priced an apartment or two but most of them were somewhat pricey and offered little security for an old lady. I then spent a fair bit of my free time trying to find out what it would take to get Diane into a senior type place she could afford. For the Catholic ones, she either had too much income to qualify for the low income center or just barely enough income to afford a nice independent living center. Problem there was, they didn't have any studios available. I then looked at city funded senior housing. She could certainly afford it, but there were no openings at any of the centers she would want to live and the application and wait process was going to take too long.
Finally I settled on some nice high-rise apartments downtown that offered reasonable rates,all bills paid, six month or one year leases and private garage and secure entry while still leaving her about $1500 a month to live on. Now all we had to do was get bankruptcy filed....
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