NOW WHAT?

NOW WHAT?

By Tim Barkley. August 2019. The phone rang. The voice on the other end was subdued, but firm. “This is Ricky. You met with Susan and me about our mother. My wife just passed away.” Pause. “She had a heart attack and died at work yesterday. I need to know what to do – she didn’t have a will. Is the State going to take everything?” “I’m so sorry,” the lawyer empathized, then reassured, “and there’s nothing you really need to...

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WHAT DO I NEED?

WHAT DO I NEED?

What Do I need? February 2019. By Timothy S. Barkley, Sr. The handshakes concluded, the Johnsons sit across from the lawyer. “We need to get wills. We’re both in our seventies, and we’ve never had a will. And we think we might need a trust.” Mrs. Johnson interjects, “My cousin told me we should have a trust. She has one.” “Thank you,” responds their lawyer. “Tell me a little bit about yourselves. I see the two of you … kids?” “We have three,...

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BY HOOK OR BY…

BY HOOK OR BY…

By Hook Or By… September 2018. By Timothy S. Barkley, Sr. The phone rings a lot. “My sister who lives with Mom never lets me talk to Mom or see her. When I call she hangs up the phone, and if I come to her house she pretends nobody is home. She even disconnected the doorbell. I think she told Mom I was dead. I just went to the adult day care that I heard Mom was at, and she was there, so I took her out to lunch. She cried and told me she...

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LESS COMPLICATING

LESS COMPLICATING

Less Complicating. June 2018. By Timothy S. Barkley, Sr. First, the phone call. “Can you look over our wills and trusts?  It’s been a few years, and we want somebody to make sure they’re up-to-date. And we’re going on vacation and want to make sure everything is covered in case something happens.” Certainly. Let’s get together. Next week? The meeting. “We had this done about twenty years ago by a lawyer in Rockville. I read your articles, and I...

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MEET THE JOHNSONS

MEET THE JOHNSONS

By Timothy S. Barkley, Sr. March 2018. The bell on the outside doorknob jangled, startling the attorney out of his reverie. It had been a long day, and there was another client appointment pending. He straightened, stretched and strode to the waiting room. A middle-aged couple stood waiting there. He held out his hand, introducing himself. They reciprocated, “Albert Johnson, but you can call me Bertie.” “Elizabeth Johnson, and please...

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