I found it hard to keep my mind on these business affairs, because my heart kept intruding. The businessmen who were trying to help me would have found many of my thoughts highly irrelevant . . . How much are a few British colonial stamps worth? So many dollars and cents? A hundred hours of pure pleasure? I could see Peter bending over the stamp books spread out on a card table in our living room. To him the stamps were not just stamps. They were cargo ships on their way to romantic, far-flung places—Antigua . . . Barbados . . . The Cayman Islands . . . Granada . . . Montserrat . . . Trinidad. The very names were music . . . ! The com memorative issues were some of history’s most dramatic moments . . . The stamps were beautiful . . . “ Catherine, take a look at this new St. Kitt’s ultramarine on blue violet—-and this magenta, and look at this carmine rose »> And sermons? How could sermons be appraised? So much lift and lilt to the human spirit? So much bowing down of the heart in adoration to its Maker? Yet the sermon manuscripts were an integral part of the estate and the next thing that had to be appraised. Obviously how much they were worth commercially was anyone’s guess. But even after some arbitrary value has been placed on them, then what disposition was to be made of them? It took several lawyers a little over four months to figure out that one. It seemed that almost daily, everywhere I turned, legal proof of my husband’s death was required. Finally I had a whole sheaf of photostats of his death certificate made. To the uninitiated in grief, this may seem like a small matter. Still it scarcely has a soothing effect on the bereaved. Then came the day when I had to reappear in probate court to be made Peter John’s guardian. Since then, I have been required to give a detailed financial accounting of my guardianship to the court each year. This will go on until my son becomes of age. Each year the account figures must be sworn to before a notary public. Each year a fee must be paid to the office of registrar of wills for the accounting. The amount of cash in Peter’s checking account at the time of his death was not large. Most of this had been given to us as a gift on the occasion of our tenth anni versary at the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church, and had been meant to pay part of our expenses for a trip abroad. Yet by the time the final accounting is made to the probate court, almost every cent of that original sum will have been drained away in legal and court costs. When I discovered the amazing amount of red tape involved even with such a small estate, I almost ran to a lawyer to get help in making a will of my own. Not only that, but I began urging my parents and close friends to consider the same move. Though in my case there was little to leave anyone, I reasoned that the tiny sum involved in making a will might some day save many times that amount in fees for dealing with quite unnecessary legal technicalities. Of course, Peter had no idea of all of this. Yet some of his close friends were lawyers. And often he himself had been called on to help the recently bereaved in practical matters as well as spiritual ones. I marveled that he had never even once encountered some other widow entangled in the same difficulties with which I was wrestling. Reprinted, with permission of McGraw-Hill Book Com pany, Inc. from TO LIVE AGAIN by Catherine Marshall. Copyright 1957 by Catherine Marshall. THE KING'S BUSINESS
P e t e r — to the surprise of all who had known him well —had left no will. Apparently he had thought that since he possessed little other than insurance, making me the sole beneficiary of that took care of the situation. If only he had known how much it left to be taken care of! Yet in thinking a will unimportant for those with a small or moderate estate, my husband was not unusual. I learned that an estimated 70 per cent of American property owners die intestate. The first business complication developed when Peter’s checking account (we did not have a joint one) was frozen. Consequently, no money could be drawn out even for funeral expenses or immediate needs. All of the insur ance polices were in a strong box at the bank. That box was immediately sealed by the bank under the Internal Revenue Department’s regulations. It took three weeks of cutting red tape before the insurance agent could even get into the strong box “ to initiate the collection of death proceeds,” as the insurance term has it. Then I learned that, under District of Columbia law, when a man dies without a will, after all the debts are paid, his widow receives one-third of his estate, his child or children, two-thirds. It was necessary for me to appear in probate court to post an expensive bond and to be made administratrix of Peter’s affairs. Everything there after came under the jurisdiction of this court. Not even funeral expenses could be paid until the court passed on them. Following this, some of my husband’s possessions had to be appraised—his car, his stamp collection, a few power tools. The appraisal of something like a stamp col lection is a highly technical matter. It has to be handled by men who know the value of stamps. But all appraisers had either to be appointed by the probate court or spe cifically approved by them. Such appraisal can be time consuming, a great deal of trouble, and costly.
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