In Betrayal (2001), James Hillman observes (from Connie Zweig, 2021):

“We can be truly betrayed only where we truly trust — by brothers, lovers, wives, husbands, not by enemies, not by strangers. The greater the love and loyalty, the involvement and commitment, the greater the betrayal. Trust has in it the seed of betrayal.”

Elder abuse is the betrayal of trust.

As defined by the World Health Organization (2002), elder abuse is,

“…a single or repeated act, or lack of appropriate action, occurring within any relationship where there is an expectation of trust which causes harm or distress to an older person”

In late 2005, my father and I stood in his New York Upper East Side duplex just before heading out to a restaurant. He said, “Some of your grandmother’s friends are trying to get me to open Holly Hill.” I guessed out loud, “Are they David Rockefeller and Annette de la Renta?” My father replied, “Yes.” I barely knew Mr. Rockefeller and Mrs. De la Renta, but I knew they were trustworthy, as proven by their steadfast, decades-long demonstrated love for my grandmother and their concern, now.

Holly Hill was my grandmother’s country house where she spent weekends refueling—and where she wished to spend her last days. Her family, close friends, and staff all knew this.

I learned later that Mr. Rockefeller and Mrs. De la Renta had met in Mr. Rockefeller’s office with my father in May 2005 to address their concern. My father’s third wife joined the meeting uninvited. As chronicled by Meryl Gordon, in Mrs. Astor Regrets (2009, ch.10):

“Rockefeller urged the Marshalls to reopen Holly Hill, stressing that he thought Brooke would appreciate the fresh air and countryside. ‘She always loved it out there in the spring — she loved to see the daffodils, she had a whole field of daffodils,’ says Rockefeller. ‘It seemed cruel that she was unable to go.’”

Gordon continues:

“Bob Silvers remembers accompanying Annette to see Brooke around the same time, on a day that Tony had told his mother once again that she could not return to Holly Hill. “Brooke was sitting there, all dressed up, wearing a hat, and she was crying,” he says. “She looked up, tears coming from her eyes. She said, ‘It’s not right. I want to go.’”

My father opened Holly Hill in a diminished form for the summer. He closed it once again, come fall.

Chris Ely, my grandmother’s country estate butler, was fired when Holly Hill closed the first time. After, my grandmother’s nurses showed her a photograph of Chris. She asked, “Is he dead?” She didn’t understand why he wasn’t with her.

Following years of angst, frustration, and a sense of impotence, in January 2006, I decided to act. The impetus was one long night-time conversation with two of my grandmother’s nurses, Minnette Christie and Pearline Noble. After months of research and reaching out, I met in May 2006 with Mr. Rockefeller and Mrs. de la Renta. Through their support, two months later I filed a guardianship petition, which was awarded.

During subsequent discovery by the court, it was revealed that my father had sought control of tens of millions of dollars, most of which my grandmother had bequeathed to New York charities. His criminal acts resulted in a six-month trial by the Manhattan District Attorney in 2009. During the days I testified, my message to my father was clear: please plea and seek forgiveness. He did not. My father “was found guilty of 14 of the 16 counts against him” (John Eligon; October 8, 2009). All but one was upheld on appeal. The convictions included criminal possession of stolen property and forged instruments, grand larceny, and conspiracy. One count resulted in a mandatory prison sentence.

As reported by Jose Martinez and Corky Siemaszko (December 21, 2012) New York Daily News, at the sentencing Justice Bartley addressed my father:

“What would your mother say if she were here? Would she blanch at the spectacle? Would she despise you for the breach of trust?”

After serving two months, my father was released. During his interview, the New York State Board of Parole asked my father, “Do you have any regrets about what happened that brought you into prison, sir?” to which my father replied, “Well, regrets, yeah, naturally.” (Shayna Jacobs; August 29, 2013). New York Daily News.

In August 2007, my grandmother passed away having spent her last year at Holly Hill with grace, surrounded by loved ones, and free from fear. Before returning to Holly Hill, at night in her New York City apartment my grandmother would ask nurses to look under her bed for the man who was trying to kill her. That man was her only child, my father.

As James Hillman observes (from Connie Zweig, 2021),

“We can be truly betrayed only where we truly trust.”

But what of the betrayal of trust in guardianships, designed to protect persons who are vulnerable, when this state-sanctioned relationship is abused? This is the subject of my next essay.

Shapiro observes,

“Those in which ‘one party is at the mercy of the other’s discretion’ [Weinrib 1975, 7] are labeled ‘fiduciary’ or ‘trust’ relations and subject to much stricter legal rules and intrusive moral rhetoric ”

Above all other relationships between society and self—and far, far beyond any informal “expectation of trust”—guardianship embodies our most demanding legal, social, ethical, and moral obligation. Arguably, guardianship manifests society’s greatest responsibility held in trust, given the courts’ and guardians’ broad-scope fiduciary duties and the profound, asymmetric power imbalance (Luhmann 2017) imposed on persons subject to guardianship in the absence of beneficiary control.

Gratitude

I am grateful to the following persons for their work and/or review, which contributed to this article and the cause:

• Meryl Gordon, Professor and Director, Magazine & Digital Storytelling Program, Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute, New York University

• Shayna Jacobs, federal courts and law enforcement reporter, National Security Team, The Washington Post.

• Jose Martinez, Senior Reporter, THE CITY

• Art Mason, Director (retired), Elder Abuse Prevention Program, Lifespan of Greater Rochester

• Corky Siemaszko, Senior Reporter, NBC News Digital

• Connie Zweig, therapist (retired) and writer