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January 28, 2008
Judges aren't always wise
I read this interesting case in one of my classes, concerning a fellow who made a will that kind of screwed over some of his relatives:
His will was formally executed one year and four months prior to his death. By its terms he devised to Charlotte Josephine Hindmarch, fifty years of age, and whom he describes as his friend, his house located at 722 Nowita place and all his personal ‘belongings, monies, collateral, notes or anything of value’; he devised to his daughter, the contestant herein, the house located on lot nine, at 724 Nowita place, and to his granddaughter, Marjorie Jean Angell, his interest in an estate in Salt Lake City. He gave to his grandson, his son-in-law and several other persons, relatives or friends, $1 each.
So, what do you do in such situations? Naturally, you try to get the will invalidated. This particular litigant attempted to prove Mr. Wright was bonkers (or, legally speaking, lacked testamentary capacity) when he executed his will, thereby making it legally inoperative. Among the incidents cited for this proposition were this one:
[H]e once gave her a fish (he spent much time in fishing) which he said he had caught and she found it had been soaked in kerosene and when he asked her how she liked it he laughed and said he had put the kerosene on it before he brought it to her ...
The late Mr. Wright thus had a pretty wacky side. But the judge poo-pooed many of these reasons, before next noting this:
Mr. Brem testified substantially as his wife had testified, but added the statement that ‘Mr. Wright often chased the children out of his yard and turned the hose on them and that children in the neighborhood were afraid of Mr. Wright.’ He did not explain why they often returned to his yard if they feared him.
Come on, judge. Do you really need an explanation as to why they kept coming back? It's because they were scared of him! Since time immemorial, kids have been going to harass old people who live alone. It's Boo Radley. Or Ben Kenobi. Or hell, the guy with the giant dog in The Sandlot. Sounds to me like Mr. Wright was the neighborhood crazy man whose house kids would visit, and the second he stepped outside, they would scream and run away, all in separate directions. The citation, by the way, if you're desperate to read this whole case (it is quite interesting), is In re Wright's Estate, 7 Cal.2d 348, 60 P.2d 434 (Cal. 1936).
We didn't really have a person like that in my neighborhood. The closest we have to that is my grandma's neighbor, but that's another story. Instead, consider what happened to these kids in Columbus who chose the wrong shut-in to bother.
Also, speaking of wills, here's a great New Yorker cartoon on the subject.
entry no. 1068
Posted at January 28, 2008 02:24 PM