by Henry, ©2025
(Aug. 19, 2025) — Old folks’ homes in Minnesota are dens of thievery, from the custodian to the local bank. The police and lawyers are part of the equation. Any items in the room or in the safe, savings account, and/or checking accounts are easy pickings for the thieves who never read the ‘TEN COMMANDMENTS,’ specifically the part that commands ‘THOU SHALT NOT STEAL.’
“And that’s my opening. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to ‘The Pulse of the Nation,’ the place to here it here first. Stealing from an old person is just as easy as stealing from a baby, with one important difference. Stealing from an old person is the same as stealing from whomever is mentioned in the will. A piece of candy does not equate to cash or a family heirloom. To explain how easy the Minnesota thieves get away with it, we’ve asked a recently retired bank president from St. Cloud, MN, to help us navigate how the widespread theft is so successfully accomplished. We’ll withhold her name for obvious reasons. Welcome to ‘Pulse,’ the most popular information show in its time slot.”
“First off, I want to thank you for exposing the dark side of the retirement home industry. It all starts off innocently enough. The old person doesn’t want to bother with making monthly payments. Maybe the payment goes to a credit union or to the home itself. Enter the ‘GUARDIAN,’ the person who the old folk trusts but no Minnesotan would, not even with a ten-foot pole.”
“How’s that work?”
“Simple enough. The old person gives the guardian the ‘POWER OF ATTORNEY’ that allows for insuring that all the bills are paid on time. And after a time, the guardian transfers what once was an individual account to a shared account without the old person having a clue, and why should they? The bills are paid on time. And, because the guardian checks the daily mail, the old person is never exposed to late-payment notices or any notice at all.”
“And the retirement home is part of it all?”
“Maybe not directly, but, trust me, they know exactly what’s going on. Whenever an account went from an individual account to a joint account, I was notified, and it was an unwritten rule that I would call the head honcho of the old folks’ home and they, in turn, would inform the Chief of Police.”
“Wow.”
“You said it in a nutshell. It’s because the money is so good, and lots of it. Even the poorest of the poor is worth thousands, but most are in the hundreds of thousands. The money is just too easy to steal, which they do. Steal. Spread it around. Everyone gets paid but the people in the will. The children and grandkids get nothing because there’s nothing left. Bank accounts cleaned out. Anything in the room? Gone, stripped clean as a whistle, just like the safe deposit box at the bank and all accounts. Balance: $0.00.”
“But surely the children protest, inform the police, get a lawyer, right?”
“Right, that’s what they do. Go to the bank and find out that the ‘joint account’s’ balance is ‘$0.00’ and has been for years. Take that to the bank. Sorry, wrong expression.”
“We get it. Well, that’s all the time we have so this is Henry, along with a retired bank president from St. Cloud, wishing each of you a goodnight: Goodnight.
“You have to leave? So soon? I’m sorry to hear that. You know, we have a picnic table out back. Want to hear what I’m having? No? Alright, goodbye. Nice to have met you.”