Success Stories
A Daughter’s Fight Against Financial Elder Abuse—and the Legal Lifeline That Helped
“She Loved That Car”: A Daughter’s Fight Against Financial Elder Abuse—and the Legal Lifeline That Helped
When Ronni’s mother came home from the hospital, she was still recovering—physically weak, emotionally raw, and, by her own admission, in a mental fog. She believed she had nearly died. She had seen what she called “the rainbow bridge,” where she hoped to reunite with her beloved dogs. Disoriented and grateful to be alive, she relied on the caregivers around her for support, guidance, and—critically—honesty.
But what she received instead was exploitation.
While Ronni’s mother was still in a fragile mental state and under medication, one of her caregivers asked her to sign over the pink slip to her cherished collectible car. She did. At the time, the woman was technically still under a power of attorney held by her trustee—meaning she shouldn't have signed anything of consequence. But the caregiver didn’t stop there.
She took the car—and everything in it.
Her mother’s electric wheelchair. Her handicap placards. Her dog’s beds and leashes. Every item was removed and kept as if it were part of a normal transaction. Later, when confronted, the caregiver claimed she had “bought” the car—despite the lack of a legitimate sale process—and refused to return it.
“They looted her,” Ronni says. “They took the car, but also the symbols of her independence, her mobility, her identity. She felt completely violated.”
What’s more, the caregiver had already begun tagging furniture she wanted from the home—writing her name on pieces as though preparing for an estate sale. “She thought my mom wouldn’t make it,” Ronni says. “And she acted like everything was already hers.”
Ronni’s mother wasn’t just the victim of a car theft—she was the victim of financial elder abuse at the hands of someone entrusted with her daily care. And for far too long, no one recognized it as abuse at all.
“This Is Financial Elder Abuse”
At first, no one called it abuse. Not the sheriff. Not Adult Protective Services. Not even the family’s own estate trustee. Authorities chalked it up as a “he said, she said” dispute over a car sale.
“There was no discussion about financial elder abuse,” Ronni says. “It wasn’t even on their radar.”
But something didn’t sit right. Ronni dug deeper. She reviewed legal documents, called the sheriff repeatedly, and eventually turned to a friend who happened to be an immigration attorney. That friend gave her a name she’ll never forget: Legal Services for Seniors.
A Civil Suit, A Small Claim, A Big Victory
With the criminal case stalled and law enforcement hesitant to pursue charges, Legal Services for Seniors stepped in to help Ronni navigate the civil court system. They worked with her to file small claims forms, prepare evidence, and pursue a legal remedy—not for the money, but for accountability.
“She just wanted her car back,” Ronni says of her mom. “It wasn’t about the Blue Book value. It was about what that car represented.”
In court, the caregiver tried to defend her actions by citing a revoked bequest in the woman’s will. “She said, ‘She loved me. She would have given me that car.’ As if love justifies theft,” Ronni says. “You should have seen the commissioner’s face.”
Ultimately, the judge ruled in Ronni’s mother’s favor. The caregiver was ordered to repay a portion of the car’s value. It wasn’t full justice—but it was validation.
“She felt seen,” Ronni says. “She felt like someone stood up for her.”
Behind Closed Doors: The Hidden Risk of Caregiver Theft
What happened to Ronni’s mom is more common than many realize. Financial elder abuse is a silent epidemic—especially when it’s committed by someone the victim trusts.
“They’re in the house every day. They have access to keys, documents, even passwords,” Ronni explains. “It starts to feel like their house, their stuff.”
In this case, the caregiver didn’t just take a car. Jewelry went missing. Furniture was marked for claiming. An amendment to the woman’s estate plan—signed while she was still mentally and physically vulnerable—gave $100,000 to each of the caregivers, though that change was later revoked.
“They count on the fact that pursuing legal action is expensive,” Ronni says. “But they don’t realize that seniors have access to legal support. That’s what makes Legal Services for Seniors so powerful.”
Legal Help That Doesn’t Come With a Price Tag
Legal Services for Seniors is a nonprofit law firm that provides no-cost legal services to low-income seniors in Monterey County. Their attorneys and advocates specialize in elder rights—including protections against scams, financial abuse, housing issues, and exploitation.
“They never treated us like we were less important because we weren’t paying,” Ronni says. “They showed up. They knew what they were doing. And they helped us hold someone accountable who thought they were untouchable.”
For Ronni and her mother, the experience has changed how they view caregiving, trust, and justice.
“There are laws to protect the elderly. They just get lost in the system. But Legal Services for Seniors knew how to use those laws—and they used them with heart.”
What You Can Do
This June, as the nation recognizes Elder Abuse Awareness Month, Ronni wants people to know what her family didn’t: that financial elder abuse is real, and that help is out there.
“I’d never even heard the term until this happened,” she says. “Now I see it everywhere.”
She urges families to ask questions, check in often, and not ignore small red flags. And if something doesn’t feel right? Call.
Legal Services for Seniors is available to low income Monterey County resident age 60 or older who needs help navigating legal issues—from caregiver abuse to contract disputes. They are confidential, compassionate, and mission-driven.
To support their work—or to get help—visit LSSMC.net or call (831) 899-0492.
“It Wasn’t Just My Home—It Was Our Home”: One Widow’s Search for Legal Clarity, and the Help She Didn’t Know Existed
Josina didn’t think she would need legal help. After all, she had spent her life as an academic—teaching, mentoring, writing, and reasoning. She earned her doctorate from UC Berkeley, taught at Ohio State University, and later helped found Cal State Monterey Bay, where she served as a professor and the founding dean of the College of Arts and Humanities. She understands structure. She understands systems. She even taught legal reasoning.
But grief doesn’t follow systems. And it doesn’t care how capable or educated you are.
Three years ago, Josina lost her beloved partner of 42 years, Carol. The grief was overwhelming, total, and all-consuming. “You don’t just lose someone after 42 years,” she says. “You lose a part of your body. A part of your breath. A part of everything that holds you together.”
Josina describes her state at the time as one of profound vulnerability. Though surrounded by a supportive network of friends, family, a therapist, and a grief group, she couldn’t bring herself to deal with the paperwork. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words or make the legal declarations. “I didn’t live in my house,” she says. “I lived in our house.”
And then came the letter.
A Letter From the Assessor—and the Breaking Point
The envelope came from the County Assessor’s Office. It was clear, clinical, and demanding: A change of ownership needed to be declared for the house. And failure to comply would result in penalties.
That’s when it all threatened to come apart.
“I couldn’t even say she didn’t own the house,” Josina says. “I couldn’t say it because it wasn’t mine. It was ours. We had made it together.”
The house was a labor of love. A fixer-upper that no one believed in except Josina—and Carol. “The realtor said, ‘You girls have no idea what you’re getting into,’” she laughs softly. “But I knew what I was getting into. I knew Carol would make it magic.”
And she did. So when the letter arrived, demanding official paperwork to strip Carol’s name from the deed, Josina froze. “I knew I had to do something. But I couldn’t cope with a cold, adversarial legal environment. I just couldn’t.”
That’s when she found Legal Services for Seniors.
Compassion, Not Courtrooms
She wasn’t sure what to expect. But something in the name gave her hope. Maybe, just maybe, this wouldn’t feel like a courtroom. Maybe it wouldn’t feel like loss all over again.
She was right.
From the moment Josina was connected with Vicki, a legal advocate at Legal Services for Seniors, she felt something shift. “She was so compassionate, so loving, so kind—and so competent. She walked me through every step,” Josina says. “Even when we weren’t physically together, I could feel her holding my hand.”
Together, they updated the legal title. Together, they processed the forms and the notary work. Together, they made the unbearable—possible.
“It was never adversarial. Not for one second,” Josina says. “It was human. It was healing. And I am so, so grateful.”
The Second Letter
A year later, another letter came. Josina can’t disclose the details—because the issue is still ongoing—but it came from a company, and she wasn’t sure whether it was real, fraudulent, or something in between. What she did know was this: “I wasn’t alone anymore.”
She called Legal Services for Seniors again. And again, she found not just legal expertise, but warmth, clarity, and unwavering kindness.
“We’re still in the process,” she says. “But I have complete faith. Because I’ve seen what it means to be treated with dignity, even when you feel completely broken.”
A Safe Place to Grieve, and Act
Josina is clear: grief is not a problem to be solved. It’s a state to be lived through. “We don’t move on. We move forward,” she says. “And Legal Services for Seniors helped me move forward.”
In her view, what sets the organization apart isn’t just that their services are no-cost to low-income seniors—it’s that their entire model is grounded in humanity. “They’ve mastered what it means to care. They’ve made legal help accessible in a culture that doesn’t know how to handle grief. That’s a gift.”
She believes more people would seek help sooner if they knew what kind of support they would receive. “If I had seen a video of someone talking about this—about how it feels, what it’s like—I would have reached out sooner,” she says. “I was afraid of being vulnerable in a system that expects you to be strong. But Legal Services for Seniors didn’t ask me to be strong. They just helped.”
Support That Feels Like Love
Josina says Carol is still with her. Not in the house, not on the deed, but everywhere else. “She’s with me all the time,” she says. “And I am filled with gratitude. I wouldn’t trade our life together for anything.”
She also says that supporting Legal Services for Seniors is one way she honors Carol’s memory. “I made a donation after they helped me the first time. And again after the second,” she says. “It’s what Carol would have wanted—to make sure others have the same chance I did.”
You Can Help Too
Legal Services for Seniors exists to serve people like Josina—those who find themselves in complicated moments, facing complicated paperwork, with no clear way forward. But they can’t do it alone.
To support their work or get help:
Visit LSSMC.net
Call (831) 899-0492
“They Said It Wouldn’t Cost a Thing”: How a Solar Scam Targeted Two Seniors—And What Saved Them
Rita and Trini have always tried to live simply and wisely. They pay their bills, budget carefully, and avoid unnecessary debt. So when a pair of young, well-dressed representatives from a solar company knocked on their door offering a way to lower their monthly electric bills—with no upfront cost—it sounded almost too good to be true.
“They said the panels would pay for themselves,” Rita remembers. “They said there would be no loan, no payments, just savings.”
The women were friendly and comforting. They made small talk about electricity costs, promised real savings, and assured the couple they would not owe anything. When they returned the next day with a man named Tyler—confident, polished, and eager to help—the message was repeated with even more warmth.
“You’re seniors,” Tyler told them. “We’re here to help you.”
What followed was not help, but deception. The couple was handed a smartphone and guided to sign a digital contract. They didn’t understand what they were looking at. They weren’t given a copy. They were simply told that everything they had just discussed was in the document.
Three weeks later, the truth arrived in the form of a bill.
“They signed us up for a loan we didn’t know we had,” Trini says. “It wasn’t a savings plan. It was a trap.”
A Con Disguised as Care
“They knew exactly what to say,” Rita says. “They took pictures with us. They acted like we were family.”
That familiarity is a tactic—one increasingly used against older adults. It builds trust fast. It softens skepticism. It turns sales into manipulation. And by the time the fine print is revealed, it’s often too late.
“We trusted them,” Trini says. “That’s what hurts most.”
There was no paper trail. No explanation of the financing. No way to undo the signatures submitted electronically on a device they didn’t understand. And when they tried to call and ask questions, the tone changed. Tyler stopped answering. Alexis, the assistant who helped install the contract on Trini’s phone, disappeared.
“We were left with a loan and no way to fix it,” Rita says. “We felt scared and completely alone.”
A Business Card, A Phone Call, and a Lifeline
Then something clicked. Weeks earlier, at the Monterey County Fair, they’d been handed a business card from a local nonprofit legal organization. At the time, they hadn’t needed it. But now, in the middle of the solar loan confusion, they finally picked it up.
“It just gave us hope,” Rita says.
The card belonged to Legal Services for Seniors. They made the call.
“We’re green,” Trini says. “We didn’t know what was out there to help us. But we’re so glad we found them.”
That call changed everything. Legal Services for Seniors immediately reviewed the couple’s case, explained their rights, and got to work.
“They were the first people who really listened,” Rita says. “And they never made us feel dumb for being tricked.”
The legal team helped them understand the contract, challenge the deceptive tactics, and take steps to fight back. Just as importantly, they helped Rita and Trini regain their footing and their confidence.
“They gave us hope again,” Trini says. “Without them, we’d still be buried under this.”
The Shame Is Not Theirs
What Rita and Trini experienced wasn’t a misunderstanding. It was fraud. Like many seniors, they didn’t know where to turn at first—not because they were hesitant to speak up, but because they simply didn’t know help was available.
“There’s so much stigma,” Rita says. “You feel like it’s your fault. But it’s not.”
Legal Services for Seniors understands that. Their attorneys approach each case with dignity and care, focusing not just on the legal issues but on rebuilding trust and restoring power.
“They didn’t just help us with paperwork,” Trini says. “They helped us feel like ourselves again.”
Protection That Costs Nothing—But Changes Everything
Legal Services for Seniors provides no-cost legal help to low-income seniors in Monterey County. Their work spans housing, healthcare, consumer fraud, elder abuse, and more ensuring that older adults can age with dignity and security.
“They gave us direction when we had none,” Trini says. “They gave us power when we felt powerless.”
As Elder Abuse Awareness Month continues, Rita and Trini are sharing their story to warn others—and to offer a message of hope.
“You don’t have to stay quiet,” Rita says. “And you don’t have to feel ashamed. There are people who will believe you, and people who will help.”
Stand With Seniors
Legal Services for Seniors depends on community support to continue its mission of protecting older adults from fraud, exploitation, and abuse. To support their work—or to get help:
Visit LSSMC.net
Call (831) 899-0492