Monday, January 16, 2006

How I was cheated out of my inheritance.

My great uncle Cecil emigrated to Canada in the mid 1920’s. With the sublime sense of timing common in my family, he disembarked to hear the heartening news that Wall Street had crashed.

The land of opportunity that he had been expecting turned out to be a depression era disaster zone. He ended up penniless and homeless in Vancouver, picking up whatever scraps of work he could and living in a hostel for vagrants.

Luckily for him, a kind Canadian lady took pity on him and provided him with free board and lodging so he could get himself back on his feet. Eventually he found employment as a ship hand, and gradually worked his way up to the position of Captain on a cruise liner.

An astute individual, he invested in property in Vancouver. He ended up an extremely wealthy individual with a massive penthouse apartment overlooking Stanley Park.

He married a Canadian Indian, referred to as ‘the Squaw’ by my grandmother, who couldn’t abide the woman. They had no children, and when my great uncle died in 1990 she inherited his entire estate. She advised her relatives that when her time came we would all be left sums sufficient to set us up for life.

The Squaw died in 1995. When the estate was wound up, we found to our horror that the cow had sold the property portfolio and gambled the proceeds in casinos and on the gee gees. None of us got a cent.

Sometimes life just aint fair.

13 comments:

Sniffy said...

I bet she was related to April.

It's great how these blogs follow themes: last week poo, this week Canada, next week? Barnsley???

garfer said...

I think April is only partly squaw.

Even so, you should still take care. It's hard to know which is more dangerous: squaws or wolverines.

Kyahgirl said...

...this doesn't surprise me.

S.I.D. said...

I bet she squawendered the lot?

Anonymous said...

Oh SID's witty today, isn't he?

And there's nothing to be said of Barnsley.

M said...

Ain't it always the way...

pissoff said...

I say good on her. I never understood why some relatives figure they are entitled to someone elses hard earned money?

garfer said...

I bet you wont think that when you are screwing the nemesis for half his worldly goods!

Go for it I say.

Girl said...

Ouch.

Anonymous said...

Yeah, go for it April. But don't go for half - go for the lot.

Then remember us, you poor bloggy friends, who supported you through the experience. Holding your hand every step of the way. Guideing you gracefully through the legal minefield.

Often putting aside our own worries and task to ensure you triumphed.

There for you when you needed a shoulder.

There for you for much needed support.

There for you to cheer you up.

And Tina can have an extra fiver for all the clit tickling she'll provide you with in the summer months.

We lurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrves you April, we do.

Can I get the flying machine now?

Spinsterella said...

Brilliant.

I have absolutely no wealthy relatives, aged or otherwise. I love stories like this...

Rainypete said...

I'll be luck if I don't get the bills from my relatives when they die, so when something like this happens I get a chuckle. Would it still have been a problem if she'd dumped all the cash into charities?

Faltanus said...

my great great uncle owned something like 500,000 acres of land in West Virginia. today there are 450 acres left in the family. yep....he gambled it all away.