Elder Exploitation; Lessons from 2 Unscammable Elders

So far this month I have  heard of two elder women being targeted for scams. Contrary to what we might expect, these ladies proved unscammable.

Their fast reactions contradict the findings of a new research study reported in the New York Times. The study shows that as we age, our brains are less able to assess danger. However, in this case we have a 99 year old who managed to avert a scam.

That newly-unscammable elder was Ruth, who had gotten wise to this type of scam since being targeted once before in a similar way. This time she was on guard. The evening phone caller pretended to be her grandson in great need. “Gramma, it’s me, your grandson. I need your help.” This time Ruth said “Can you please hold for a moment?” and paused to gather herself. When she went back on the line, the caller had hung up.

Similarly, Carol, age 75, recounted how a woman called, and with a kind voice, started asking questions. Carol answered a few of her questions and then managed to ask her own question. “Can I ask who is soliciting this information?” she said. The caller hung up.

It seems as if a stall technique can be a valuable tactic in assessing danger.

The realization that one is being targeted and perceived as vulnerable is a powerful one. I doubt it made either of their days. But it was fine fodder for talk among their friends, and the good news is, that realization will hopefully help them (and their friends) the next time a scam outfit calls.

A friendly holiday message from Ruth and Carol: In this holiday season, when old friends and distant family members may be calling, be on guard for fakes!

 

 

 

An Independent Woman, Hurricane Irene, and Handwritten Notes

Theirs (the “oldest old”) is a generation that still writes handwritten notes.

The other day I got a letter from Elizabeth, sent to my university office. I wasn’t surprised. Elizabeth was never able to call me directly, because she didn’t pay for a long-distance service. So instead she called my husband and left a message (a local number I gave her), or wrote a note.

I met Elizabeth in her women’s Fortnightly research club in Albany about five years ago. She was not shy. She wanted to tell me all about her life story. She taught high school English in a black school in Georgia during the civil rights era. She was also a codebreaker for the Navy during WWII. And boy, the stories she could tell about these things!  At age 88, Elizabeth was about as fiesty and independent as they come. She insisted on continuing to live alone in her suburban home, and though her family wanted her to come to Georgia and live with them, she wasn’t willing to give up her autonomy, her space, and her busy social life.

Elizabeth and I had a common friend in the research club, Julia. When Julia passed away while in church, Betty called to tell me. “She had a heart attack in the pews,” Elizabeth said. She kept talking — saying this was the most amazing thing – an independent woman, age 95, still driving herself to church. And to die amongst her friends, with the church choir singing, how great was that? I had to agree.

Elizabeth didn’t feel the need to be sentimental about Julia’s death. Julia was old; and she died the way she would have wanted.

So now, a few years later, in flowing cursive, Betty thanked me for the advance copy of the book I sent along. She was thrilled, in particular, with the fact that she was Elizabeth in the book, a name she treasured, and one that was rarely used as her friends all called her Betty. She was also thrilled that my daughter’s middle name is Elizabeth, and she wanted to invite me and my daughter over as my earliest convenience. She made a reference to our friend Julia, also in the book. I made a mental note to call her.

Then I got word today, only a week or two after Elizabeth wrote that note, that Elizabeth died during Hurricane Irene. She was checking her flooded basement when she died.

That day all of us Central New York homeowners were checking our basements. For most of us the power was out, the wind was whipping, and the heavy rain was never-ending. Elizabeth was doing what all homeowners were doing. But she was alone. This makes me so sad, but she wanted it that way.

A year ago her housekeeper found her “white as a ghost” and took her to the hospital. She had pneumonia. She was hospitalized for a long long time. She made new friends at the hospital. And then she returned home, and thrilled in recounting this story over the phone.  She wasn’t ready yet, she said, to make changes in her life. She loved her independence too much.

And so, another life ended in line with how it was lived. A stalwart independent, a local hero, confronting the latest storm.

Goodbye dear Elizabeth.

Read the Sept 1 piece in the Times Union honoring Elizabeth, with more details from her amazing life story.

“The biggest mistake of my 100 years”

I have spent the last few weeks delivering books to the elders who inspired Aging Our Way. With each visit, I continue to learn about the friends I met five years ago. The next few posts will be about these reunions.

Josie was brushing her curly white hair when I knocked on her wide-open door at the nursing home. One of the first things she said was: “The biggest mistake of my 100 years was selling my home and giving all of my things away.”

I reminded Josie that five years ago when we met, one of the first things she had told me was that she might move into an assisted living center. “I love my house, but I am so lonely, and I’m blind, so things are getting harder.” I was amazed at her foresight.  She followed her plan a few years later, when self-care was proving difficult, but when a transfer was arranged because she needed oxygen for a period of time, she found herself permanently at a nursing home. Now she was miles away from her church community, friends, and that home she occupied for many years, where she cared for her ailing mother and friends.

Josie, like many childless elders, is among the most at risk for loneliness and isolation in late life. Over the years she has told me heart-breaking stories about living alone and begging nieces and nephews to visit her.

As I read to her from Aging Our Way, she immediately recognized herself, the tough-talking but lonely soul who never married, worked long hours at the railroad, and thrived on close friendships throughout her life. “You really captured me, and I thank you for that,” she said. I thought I saw her eyes get watery. She sighed. “At least I have my grandmother’s bureau and my mother’s dresser here with me,” she said, pointing next to her.

I asked if I could take a picture of her next to her most valuable possessions. She agreed, and held up a picture of her mother and sister. Here is the picture I took:

How will you celebrate your 101st birthday?

On her 101st birthday, two twenty-something therapists from Josie’s nursing home took her to the local casino to gamble. After donning a birthday sash and pin, Josie wheeled her walker to a slot machine and put in some quarters. She reported, “It was an absolute thrill.”

Months later, Josie is still talking about it. Sure, she enjoys the shock value associated with her age and birthday destination. But when she tells the story, the gambling really isn’t the most thrilling part to her. It is the generosity and goodness on the part of her new friends, Maria and ___, who took time out of their busy lives to make a lonely old woman very very happy.

Turns out, it was a thrill for her friends too. There, on the wall of the therapists’ office, they have proudly taped up this snapshot.