Legal Advice Blog: Legal Advice, Case Insights, & Local Law Information

A darling grade school young lady that I know recently had to do a social studies project. The project took her to the state finals.  This was done on a subject that many of us know to be true, especially those of us in the legal field.  It’s a subject in which focus groups have been performed time and time again to support the theory that eyewitness testimony can quickly become a distortion of one’s memory.  I was quite impressed that this grade schooler was able to accomplish supporting such a study by performing her own focus groups. Live eyewitness testimony coupled with credibility can slam-dunk a case, but not remembering correctly can be destructive.  What if this is a criminal matter?  It might just send an innocent person to jail.  What if this is a matter as small as one child being mistaken for another that took the cookie out of the cookie jar?  Small as it may seem, that child being wrongfully accused may suffer some serious emotional damage feeling that they are untrustworthy and persecuted unfairly. Either way, incorrect eyewitness testimony can be harmful and hurtful. It has been proven that as soon as we start processing and interpreting from our mind, the distortion begins.  This can occur based upon original memory, personal experiences, personal thought processes and others influences and opinions.  Not intended to be deceitful, just human. What can we do to ensure eyewitness testimony? There are some steps you can take to safeguard what you may have witnessed. ·      Take action.  Write a statement immediately about everything you remember.  Even if this is not a formal statement you have given, write it for yourself. ·      Keep a log about any conversations you have and the details that transpired that may have an effect on your recollection so as to ensure another person has not influenced or impacted your memory. ·      Rely solely on what you saw. ·      Do not be let anyone else shape what they think you may have or should have seen. ·      Never add anything or take away anything just because you think it may fit the story and make more sense then, it becomes false. ·      Have confidence that without any fabrications or incorrect additions and/or subtractions, the truth should prevail and you have done your best to have no doubts of your own.

In 2008 I lost my dog, Molly. She was 14 when she passed away. Originally, I got her for my children thinking that all kids need a dog. Well, that wasn’t in Molly’s plan. She was a one-woman dog, and she made it very clear from the beginning that woman was me. She played with the kids but she would always come to wherever I was for a cuddle or the last bite of whatever I was eating. We were together every moment I was home. Where I was, she was. She slept with me, ate with me and followed me everywhere. In fact, she would follow me so closely, that the back of my calf would be wet from her nose. Molly would wait for me to sit in my rocker and jump up and lie down in the crook of my leg while I read or watched TV, or in many cases, with a child in my lap. She didn’t mind sharing. Molly was such a special dog, she even used the cat litter because she thought she was a cat! She even helped me clean, or at least she thought she was helping. Molly would follow me from room to room with a dust cloth in her mouth and wait patiently for me to finish. She would growl if anyone tried to take her cloth away. As funny as Molly was, she also loved oranges! I couldn’t eat one without her begging for a slice. The kids enjoyed that so much because I would throw her a piece and she would jump up and catch it mid-air. The only thing that she hated was getting a bath. On bath day I swear that dog was psychic! I would nonchalantly gather things for her bath and ignore her so she would think one of the kids was getting into the tub. She would just stare at me and then when I started to work my over to grab her, she would take off and hide in the smallest place possible so it was hard for me to get her out. I loved that silly dog so much! The day she died was so hard and unexpected. She was seemingly fine one moment and gone the next. Even after all these years I grieve for her still. Over the years I have thought about getting another dog but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Currently, I have three cats, and although I love cats, none of the ones I have were chosen by me. Two of my sons gifted me with them because they didn’t want cats. Jasmine’s (Minnie for short) mother abandoned her when she was just a couple of weeks old. My daughter-in-law nursed her with a bottle until she could be weaned. She is snow white and so cute that I just couldn’t say no when they asked me to keep her. Then, my oldest son gave me Twinkle (aka Fat Girl) because he said they were never home and she wasn’t getting enough attention. She is a multicolored gray with long hair and, you guessed it, fat. Not as fat as she used to be though. I put her on a diet so she’s slimmer now. Minnie’s benefactor also found a stray cat behind his grandmother-in-law’s house that was meowing pitifully in the dead of winter, so Pumpkin came to live with me, too. Yes, Pumpkin is orange and a rotten little boy who gleefully torments the other two and feels no remorse before, during or after his exploits—much to the disgust of the other two. From my earliest memories, I have always had dogs and cats and have loved every one of them. Although I miss Molly every day and only have cats now, somewhere in my future is another dog. I don’t know when or what kind, but someday I will get another dog; not to take Molly’s place because no one could, but perhaps one that needs a loving home who will be able to burrow its way into my heart and find its own place in my family.

When my daughters were teenagers, they both enjoyed playing in the fast- and slow-pitch softball leagues that are so popular in northern West Virginia. I’m sure my granddaughters will do the same.  It was certainly good for them--keeping them active and teaching them important lessons in sportsmanship, teamwork and commitment. But when I was growing up, these kinds of leagues were almost nonexistent.  That’s why sandlot ball helped to fill the gap. My best friend had a large, open field next to his house where we played ball.  I say “open,” but that’s not exactly true.  There was an apple tree in center field.  There was also a driveway that cut its way through almost all of left field.  But everybody quickly adjusted to these obstacles. Why?  Because your survival depending on avoiding low hanging branches and keeping your footing when you stepped onto the asphalt. There were plenty of kids in the neighborhood who enjoyed getting together for ball games.  We would play for hours and hours in the summertime.  Most days we wouldn’t leave until sunset.  Then we would grab our bikes and head home, looking forward to another game the next day. For many years, I was the catcher.  I don’t think it had anything to do with my talent.  I owned a catcher’s mitt, and as far as everybody else was concerned that meant I was fully qualified.  Home plate was only a few yards away from the garden that was faithfully planted and cared for every year by my best friend’s dad.  What he didn’t know was that I spent a lot of time in his garden.  Ostensibly I was looking for baseballs that had been foul tipped and found their way into all of the greenery.  But inevitably I would find myself in the strawberry patch, sampling handfuls of the choices berries as I searched in vain for the missing ball.  Home grown strawberries are the best! There were other adventures in store for us.  To the left of our sandlot was a pasture.  Needless to say, there were plenty of foul balls that veered left and ended up in the pasture.  As you probably guessed, the pasture wasn’t empty.  Thankfully, it was only used by milk cows.  But the patties they left behind made every trip into the pasture fraught with danger.  Occasionally, one of the cows would get hit with a ball, but nothing more would come of it than a startled cow and a loud, confused “moo.”  The worst thing was when you heard a loud, sloppy, “splat” when the ball hit the ground.  Then you knew somebody was going to get stuck with ball cleaning duty! As we grew bigger and stronger, we soon began to outgrow our sandlot.  Rather than quitting, we decided to switch from baseball to softball.  That way we couldn’t hit the ball quite so far. It was the best thing that could have happened to me.  I’ll admit that when we played baseball I was a pretty lousy hitter.  Striking me out wasn’t really rocket science--two fast balls, followed by a curve ball.  That’s all it took.  But when we switched to slow-pitch softball I found my groove.  I seemed to have a knack for putting the ball exactly where I wanted, and I could even hit for power.  We managed to squeeze several more years of play out of the old sandlot, and began dreaming of the big leagues. Then came that fateful day in the summer of ’77.  For reasons I can’t remember, we decided it would be a good idea to switch back for the day so we could play a game of baseball.  I was playing in the outfield, and somebody hit a high, high fly ball.  Too high.  It would never had gotten so high if we had been playing softball.  But there it was, and I ran as I hard as I could to get under it.  Alas, another fielder was running under it too.  We collided, and I broke the tibia in my right leg.  Everybody swears they could hear the snap of my bone breaking.  I honestly don’t remember.  I just collapsed.  Like a brave young lad, I tried to “walk it off.”  But my leg literally wouldn’t hold the weight and I fell back to the ground. I know this sounds like a sad ending to my story, but kids see things differently.  Here’s what I actually remember about the whole ordeal.  I was carried off the field to my best friend’s back porch.  While I waited for somebody to pick me up, my best friend’s mom brought out a tall glass of iced tea and homemade (yes, that’s right, homemade) donuts that she had just finished making in the deep fryer.  I don’t have any memory of the pain or disappointment I may have felt.  What I do remember is being surrounded by good friends and eating home-cooked delicacies that couldn’t be beat. Years later I played in a men’s league and had some exciting experiences, especially in tournament play.  But what I remember best is the sandlot.  That’s where friendships were forged and a young boy grew up.  That’s where lasting memories were made.  I still miss it, and I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything!

Growing up in Michigan taught me all about driving and going outside in below freezing temperatures. However, this winter, I have had to educate myself about the cold weather's effect on a new member of the Pasciak family, our eight-month-old puppy.  Over the past several years, my wife continually pushed for us to get a dog, but as someone who never had a dog growing up, I was hesitant.  However, this past summer, my mother-in-law saw a red female golden retriever for sale, which is exactly what my wife wanted.  As they say, the rest is history. My wife grew up with dogs, cats and even pigs, so she was already well aware of the responsibilities and joy associated with owning an animal.  I was quickly amazed with our little puppy's personality and how quickly I became attached to her.  However, this also required me to do some research regarding how to best take care of our new family member. One day in January, I was taking our puppy for a morning walk when she started sitting down more often and refusing to walk on one of her paws.  This trend continued the following morning, and I decided to search the Internet to figure out what was wrong.  The odd thing was that she loved the snow, had been outside for much longer on colder days, and never had a problem with cold weather.  I read several articles discussing the importance of taking pets inside during the cold winter months, but I could not figure out why her paws were hurting her on our walks and not when she was running around freely. Finally, I came across an article discussing salt's effects on dog's paws.  Based on my research, prolonged contact with salt can cause irritation and, in extreme circumstances, chemical burns on a dog's paw.  Moreover, the salt used on roads and sidewalks is usually not the same salt a person would find on their French fries.  While the salt is effective for clearing our roads, it should not be consumed, which creates a concern for dogs licking their salty paws. We have not had any problems since finding this information and now try to walk on the snow/grass and avoid salt patches.  While this may be old information to some dog owners, it was new to me, and I thought passing it on may be helpful to some of our readers.

I’ve always been a lover of all animals, but I’m definitely a “cat person.” I’ve had a cat in my life for as long as I can remember and I’ve been so fortunate to have them live to ripe old ages. I got my one cat, Gus, when I was in fourth grade and had him for two years after I was married. My other cat, Lacy, lived to be 20, and my current cat, Rascal, is 11. I can only hope and pray that I’ll have him for many more years to come because he’s my “furry son.” It’s not that I don’t like dogs, I do, but for some reason I have a fear of some breeds and have always found dogs to be high maintenance. And, with my busy lifestyle, cats are just so simple – they’re loving/loyal companions, yet independent and don’t require the “maintenance” that dogs do, allowing me to come/go as I please -- fill up their water/food bowls, make sure the litterbox is clean and you’re good to go. Then, I entered the offices of Bordas & Bordas and have now discovered three new passions – Caroline and “the boys,” Barley and Guinness…dogs. My friend and co-worker, Crystal, and I sit in the workspace where the dog crate is located, so we get to enjoy the company and shenanigans of the dogs on a daily basis.  For me, having them in the office creates a sense of peace/relaxation, makes for such a homey environment and always brings a smile to my face. There’s nothing cuter than when they come barreling in the office in the morning and make a bee-line for Crystal and me, tails wagging, tongues out, as if to say “Good morning, friends, I’m so excited to see you!” Now who can say they get that special treatment at work? Caroline is a chocolate lab and just the sweetest girl. She’s just like my cat – give her a good belly rub and a loving pat on the head and she’s happy. Barley and Guinness are brothers, Wheaten Terriers, and, like human siblings, couldn’t be more opposite in personality. Barley is sweet, timid, a bit on the nervous side and lower-energy, while Guinness is outgoing, high energy and a lover of the great outdoors. He can be quite the escape artist when left to his own devices, so we have to make sure the doors are secured when he’s around. When I need a break, I find solace in taking them out for brief walks around the grounds.  And, on the rare occasion when they don’t come into work, I miss them. I guess I’m officially a dog person now, too.

In 1981, I was a young, inexperienced high school graduate looking for my first job. There are not many job opportunities in my small hometown, so I applied for jobs at Reynolds Memorial Hospital and all of the banks in Moundsville.  I did not receive any job offers for a few months, but in early 1982 I received a call from my former high school business teacher who informed me that attorney G. Charles Hughes was looking for a good typist.  He told me that he had given me a good recommendation and that I would probably be hearing from Mr. Hughes.  True to his word, I received a call from Mr. Hughes one cold, snowy, January day in 1982, and I was asked to go to his office in Moundsville and take a typing test.   That same week, I received a job offer as a bank teller from United Bank where a friend was working.  Following my typing test, I did receive a job offer from Mr. Hughes as well, and I soon found myself faced with a decision--bank teller or legal secretary?  I can’t believe that it was actually a hard decision for me to make, but I was young and naïve.  I started my job as a legal secretary in February 1982 at G. Charles Hughes, L.C., 526 Seventh St., Moundsville, W. Va.  This is, of course, now the Moundsville office of Bordas & Bordas.  I have always had a love of antiques and all things “old” so the moment I very shyly and fearfully stepped inside the old “bank building” for my first day of work in 1982, I immediately loved the place.  At that time, the building actually housed two law offices—G. Charles Hughes, L.C., facing Seventh Street, and Madden & Whorton, in the rear of the building facing Court Avenue.  Madden & Whorton at that time consisted of attorneys John T. Madden, Mark A. Karl, and B. Michael Whorton.  As many of you know, John T. “Jack” Madden and Mark A. Karl went on to become Judges of the Second Judicial Circuit. I stayed with Mr. Hughes, or as we called him “Charlie” for a couple of years, took time off to start my family and returned to work for Charlie a second time before I moved on to other offices and a legal career that has now spanned 34 years.  In 2015, after taking a break from the legal field for a year and a half, I had the opportunity to jump back in.  The opening was with Bordas & Bordas and it was in the old bank building at 526 Seventh Street where I first got started all of those years ago.  When I stepped into the old bank building again all I could think was “wow”.  Still the same old bank building with the original bank vaults and teller windows, but also a much improved, beautifully and thoughtfully restored old building.   There are a lot of changes that have taken place in the building, but there are so many things that are the same and that bring back memories.  The old mural proclaiming the building as “The Merchants Bank of Glory,” which was painted for the movie Fools’ Parade that was filmed in Moundsville in 1971 is still here.   The original bank vaults are still here, and we still use the old vaults for file storage, just like we did in the 80s.  The spiral stairs were installed by Charlie to gain access to the “mezzanine,” which was his work room, and they are still here for access to the second floor.  What we use as a conference room now, was actually Charlie’s “good office” where he would meet with clients.  I could be wrong, but it looks like the original flooring is still in that office.  The area outside our conference room is where our photocopier stood in 1982 when we finally got one.  Believe it or not, copiers have not always been around and I remember using carbon paper between 2 sheets of paper to make a copy of a letter, which I would type on a typewriter instead of a computer.  Walking down the back hallway is the library area of our office and it is much the same as it was clear back in the early 80s because it was also our library area then, and one of the downstairs restrooms is still located where it used to be.  The part of this old building that is actually new to me is the upstairs, because most of that was occupied by Madden & Whorton.  We now have several roomy offices upstairs for attorneys and staff, so the building is very spacious. Being in this old, historic building brings back a lot of memories and I am so proud to be working here again.  I enjoy showing the building to clients and friends when they ask to see it and giving them a history lesson as we walk through.  It will always be special to me because it’s where a lifelong career began and where lifetime friendships were formed.  It was beautiful in 1982, and it is even more beautiful now.  I understand that it was in a state of disrepair when it was purchased by Bordas & Bordas.  I am so glad that they saw the potential and the beauty in this old place that I have always seen and decided to bring it back to its former glory.  Bordas & Bordas—you did this well.

All I wanted was a new color of paint in my living/dining room. Which lead to having all of the trim throughout the entire house painted white.  Which lead to replacing the old, ugly doorknobs on the closet doors, bathroom door and bedroom doors.  Which lead to replacing the ugly hinges on the doors.  Why not replace the old light switches and outlets for modern looking, white ones? Picking out the paint for the room took days on end and the purchase of $14 worth of sample paint.  I picked out new doorknobs and ordered those online.  I ordered the new hinges (chrome!) online.  Ordered all the switches, receptacles and covers online.  And don’t forget a new cover for the cable and phone outlets since they are not white. My son came over to help me out because the strike plates for the doors weren’t the same shape as the old ones and he had to cut out for the new ones.  While he was working on that, I was removing the old doorknobs.  We then made an attempt to install one of the new doorknobs.  It just so happens that the size of the hole necessary for a standard doorknob has changed since my house was built in 1971!  You can no longer buy a doorknob to fit in a 1 7/8” bore.  The standard bore for a doorknob now is 2 1/8”.  That meant the holes on every one of the doors had to be re-drilled. I found this nice, young man to come re-drill the doors.  Since I’m having someone who can do any number of home maintenance jobs come to the house, I might as well have him replace the faucet in the laundry room that has been broken for three years.  He might as well also fix the water to the back yard since I had no water in the back yard all last summer because the knob to turn the water on fell apart.  And why not have him do the wiring for the new switches.  I could do it myself but he could do it much faster and efficient. Then there is the matter of the pillows on the couch not looking great with the new paint color.  Now I am shopping for fabric to cover the pillows that I have.  Those old curtains need to go also.  More fabric shopping! What about wall décor?  I got sick of the shelves hanging in the dining room so now I have to do something on that wall and it is a pretty long wall.  I found a clock that comes in parts and sticks to the wall so you can make it as large as you want.  Ordered that online as well! So you see what I’m saying?  A decision to paint the living/dining room has snowballed into spending quite a bit more money than a couple gallons of paint.  Which reminds me, I really don’t like the style of my dining room table and chairs anymore!!  And on it goes – my snowball has grown into the abominable snowman.

I was so happy when my new neighbor, Sheila, moved in next door to me this summer. Living in a townhome has both its advantages and disadvantages.  It’s always a plus when she/he no longer likes to party late into the night, but does like to brag about her grandchildren and enjoys keeping her grass mowed.  It’s especially nice when you share similar hobbies, like working, walking, shopping and eating out. More often than not, we decide to grab some dinner together. We’ve recently discovered our most favorite place is Five Guys!  Old fashioned hamburgers, French fries and milkshakes.  Yummy!  There’s also free peanuts.   Good service, clean tables, music and great food at a reasonable price.  My kind of place!  If you haven’t tried it yet, next time you’re at The Highlands, check it out. What other yummy restaurants do you suggest we give a try?

I hope to continue to provide our readers with updates as to the status of important cases pending in our highest courts that affect oil and gas and landowners. The Ohio Supreme Court recently issued its ruling on a matter that has been fairly well known to those interested in the Ohio oil and gas leasing scene. SER Claugus Family Farm, L.P. v. Seventh District Court of Appeals, et al.  and Hustack et al, v. Beck Energy Corporation,  Slip Opinion No. 2016-Ohio-178.  Some people have been aware that, for the last several years, litigation and appeals have been ongoing as to the validity of Beck Energy Corporation leases signed in Eastern Ohio as many as eight and nine years ago.  At issue was a standard lease form, Form G&T (83), used by Beck for most of its transactions.  Upon review of the lease, the Monroe County Court of Common Pleas ruled that the leases, as written were invalid under Ohio public policy because they created leases in perpetuity.  The rule against perpetuities is an old rule that developed in England to prevent wealthy landowners from tying up their property forever.  It was a means to try and help more people eventually become landowners.  In the context of the Form 83 leases at issue in the Beck cases, the trial court determined that the leases allowed Beck to keep their leases active indefinitely simply by paying delay rental fees, without any actual efforts to obtain oil and gas production.  The trial court believed that to be against the public policy of the State of Ohio. On appeal, the 7 th Appellate District disagreed and determined that the Form 83 leases actually did provide for a limited term of years during which the oil and gas company could delay its operations by the payment of rentals.   The company could not, however, do so forever.  Oil and gas leases include a defined “primary term” during which the payment of rents provides the company with the right to hold the property without operations.  If no operations have occurred during that primary term, the lease must either be renewed, if the lease allows, or renegotiated.  If, however, certain types of operations occur, the lease enters the secondary term.  Those types of operations are usually defined in the lease agreement and so long as those types of operations or activities are continuing, then the lease will remain in effect in its “secondary term.” The Ohio Supreme Court agreed with the 7 th Appellate District in the Beck cases.  The Court confirmed some longstanding principles of oil and gas law.  The Court confirmed that delay rentals alone may only hold a lease active during a primary term and that the language of the granting clause of a lease provides the nature and effect of the legal rights held by the parties.  Finally, the Court determined that implied covenants, which generally protect mineral owners during the operation of the lease, have limited effect during the primary term and can actually be waived by lease language agreed to by the parties to the lease.  The Supreme Court confirmed that the leases at issue had a 10-year primary term and that the oil and gas company could keep the leases active during that 10-year period by paying the delayed rentals. This was not an unexpected decision from my perspective.  While I hoped that landowners would be able to seek redress for the poor lease terms they were offered, the issues as presented were not that confusing and seemed to be headed towards the decision reached by the Court in this case.  Bigger concerns in this case related to the fact that many of the lease terms were actually stayed by the appellate courts during the time this litigation was ongoing.  Beck Energy filed Motions asking the Supreme Court to toll all the terms of the Form (83) lease as to all members of the class action, which potentially includes every single Ohioan who signed such a lease with Beck.  The Supreme Court, while finding the leases valid, did not enter an order tolling the leases further. Justice Pfieifer concurred with the decision that the leases were still valid, but authored a fairly vigorous dissent on other issues and took the Court to task as well as the original attorneys handling the case for the original Plaintiffs.  Non-parties to the original litigation, including the Claugus family, had their rights affected as the class action certification resulted the tolling of all of the Beck leases regardless of whether or not those affected landowners wanted to get out of their leases.  Despite the fact that the 7 th District determined that the leases were not perpetual, it continued the tolling for both the named and unnamed plaintiffs potentially affected by the case.  As a result, many hundreds of Ohio mineral owners were left in the lurch.   The end result in these cases is not what many wanted, but it seems to be that the decision was fairly clear under the law.

For the first time in United States’ history, a California doctor, Hsiu-Ying Tseng, was sentenced to 30 years to life in prison for committing second-degree murder for prescribing exorbitant amounts of painkillers that left three (3) young male patients dead. Although prosecutors were only able to bring three (3) murder charges against the Los Angeles-based physician due to factors including drugs prescribed by other doctors and potential suicides, they estimate that her reckless prescription writing led to around a dozen deaths.  Tseng, who had no records for the three male victims when she was contacted by the California Medical Board, was accused of forging medical records to justify the prescriptions; ignoring the pleas of family members who begged her to stop writing prescriptions for loved ones; and, ignoring more than a dozen “Your patient has died” notices from coroner’s and law enforcement officials.  Despite these warnings, Tseng’s prescribing habits remained unchanged. According to the Drug Enforcement Administration, Tseng wrote more than 27,000 prescriptions over a three-year period –  an average of 25 per day.  The prosecution said the busy practice was highly lucrative, with the doctor handing out prescriptions after appointments that sometimes lasted just three minutes.  It is estimated that Tseng earned $5 million in a three-year period during the time that her patients died.  "You can't hide behind a white lab coat and commit crimes," Deputy District Attorney John Niedermann told The Associated Press. "Writing a prescription to someone knowing that they're going to abuse it and potentially die was the theory of second-degree murder that we had. Something is wrong with what you're doing if your patients are dying." Tseng’s conviction is part of a nationwide initiative to crack down on so-called "pill-mills" — doctors, clinics or pharmacies that knowingly distribute prescription narcotics to patients who do not need them for medical reasons.   Closer to home, Dr. Tressie Montene Duffy, 45, a doctor in Martinsburg, W. Va., was convicted in federal court in December 2015 for facilitating the unlawful distribution of narcotic painkillers through her medical practice.  Duffy pled guilty to seven counts of “Aiding and Abetting the Distribution of Oxycodone.”  Duffy signed blank prescription orders and allowed unlicensed members of her staff to issue prescriptions for narcotic medications to patients who had not been seen by a physician.  She faces up to 20 years in prison and a fine of up to $1 million on each of the seven counts. Sadly, what is unknown to many people is that prescription narcotics can often lead to heroin use.  Just last week, Gateway Rehabilitation Medical Director Dr. Neil Capretto said, “ is in every community from middle to upper-middle class, richest to poorest, and it does not discriminate.”  In 1985, Allegheny County had 22 drug overdose deaths and that number has increased to 349.  Dr. Capretto said most new cases of heroin use start with a prescription drug addiction.  “ often even as early as middle school with use of prescription ,” he said.   Dr. Capretto’s comments came in conjunction with U.S. Attorney David Hickton’s press conference to alert the tri-state area that nearly two dozen non-fatal heroin overdoses have been reported in the area in the past couple of days.  “We’re in an epidemic of unprecedented proportions. We’re losing more than 120 people a day to drug poisoning, which has passed traffic accidents as the leading cause of death in this country as of 2009,” Hickton said.  At least a dozen non-fatal heroin overdoses have been reported in Washington County since the weekend. At least 15 similar drug overdoses were reported in Cambria County. Stay vigilant – if you suspect that a physician is inappropriately prescribing narcotic medication, you are free to lodge a concern with either the Federal Drug Enforcement Agency at https://www.deadiversion.usdoj.gov/rxaor/spring/main?execution=e1s1; or, the Pennsylvania State Board of Medicine.

I saw a very old picture on Facebook recently with a caption that read, “How Grandmothers Used to Look”, and I had to do a double take because that really is how my grandmother used to look. I never knew my first Grandma Kinney because she passed away before I was born, so when my Grandpap Kinney remarried somewhat later in life to an elderly lady named Leila, she was the first “Grandma Kinney” that I actually knew.  Leila had probably accepted the fact she was going to be a spinster, when she suddenly found herself married and with a ready-made family.  We weren’t quite sure about Leila, but it didn’t take long for her to win everyone over.  She was a country woman to the core.  She wore dresses that she handmade herself on an old treadle sewing machine, and thick beige stockings and sensible lace up shoes.  She wore her gray hair in a bun on her head and little wire-rimmed glasses. Leila was the best cook in the world and everything was homemade.  The highlight of every Sunday was always a trip up the road to visit Grandpap and Grandma Kinney because we couldn’t wait to have one of her mouthwatering dinners.  There was always plenty of good food to go around, most of which was raised on the farm.  I still can see the huge, thick slices of homemade bread, and we always had the same three drinks to choose from—orange Kool-Aid, strawberry milk or plain white milk from the cows on the farm—all of which would be served throughout the years in the same glasses that probably came from the Fostoria glass factory in Moundsville.  If she could make it or grow it, she did—everything from ketchup, to clothing to lye soap.  I can still see her standing out in her garden on a hot summer day, in her dress, stockings and shoes, vigorously attacking the weeds that were growing among her vegetables with a hoe.  Later, she would work even more by preserving those vegetables for the coming months.  She had an amazing green thumb, and her front porch had clay pot after clay pot of African Violets on display during the summer months, which were moved indoors to the back room in the winter. One of my favorite pasttimes when I was visiting was to sneak into the back room and play around on the old upright piano.  Even though she always seemed so busy, she still took the time to show me how to bang out a little tune on the piano.  I don’t know what that tune is called, and I am definitely not a piano player, but even after more than 40 years I can still remember how to play that little song.  I was eventually given that beautiful old piano, which sits proudly in my dining room and brings back great memories every time I look at it.  She truly was the hardest working woman I have ever known, and all of her chores were done without the modern conveniences we have today.  No weed eaters, no microwaves, no store-bought bread, no bathroom….wait, they did have a bathroom, but they preferred to use the outhouse.  She was a simple country woman, who preferred to do things the “old fashioned way” and live a simple, country life.  I wish my kids could have known her.  In the hustle and bustle of today’s world, it’s nice to revisit time spent with her, and those days gone by, in my memories.

It is difficult to understate the magnitude of the dangers facing our elderly friends, family members and loved ones. We would like to believe that these dangers can be prevented when our elderly citizens are under the protection of a long-term care facility.  Tragically, however, this is not always the case. According to a 2012 Research Brief published by the National Center for Elder Abuse, “Elder and vulnerable/dependent adult abuse affects millions of people in the U.S.  It occurs regularly and in long term care settings such as nursing homes and board and care homes/assisted living facilities.  It has been reported that ‘a vast reservoir of undetected and unreported elder mistreatment in nursing homes may exist.’” Abuse of Residents of Long Term Care Facilities, available at http://www.ncea.aoa.gov/Library/Review/Brief/ index.aspx. That research paper cited some truly staggering statistics.  For example, according to the brief, “Nearly 1 out of 10 homes had violations that caused residents harm, serious injury, or placed them in jeopardy of death.”  Further, “ver 50% of nursing home staff admitted to mistreating (e.g., physical violence, mental abuse, neglect) older patients within the prior year in one study.” Id. (emphasis in original). What can be done to minimize the occurrence of these tragic and largely preventable injuries and death? Clearly, the nursing homes themselves, their owners, their administrators and their staffs have a role to play in doing whatever they can to make the safety of their residents a top priority.  Efforts along these lines should start with the commitment to provide enough caring and attentive staff members to meet the needs of their residents.  Understaffing should simply never occur. State and federal governments also have a role to play, as do the other agencies charged with reviewing and preventing instances of elder abuse and neglect.  Of course, our communities also have a role to play in enforcing these rules and community standards.  Once important aspect of community rule-enforcement is the civil jury system, which holds careless long-term care facilities responsible for the harm they have caused. Accordingly, lawyers should be aware of the range of tools available to help injured residents or their families seek justice. Among those tools are the ordinary negligence laws, the laws governing professional liability actions, and the Ohio Wrongful Death Act.  O.R.C. §§ 2305.113, 2125.01, et. seq.  In addition to these powerful tools, lawyers should not hesitate to utilize the Ohio Nursing Home Residents’ Bill of Rights when helping members of the community enforce the rules by providing just compensation to injured residents and families. The Ohio Nursing Home Resident’s Bill of Rights and its enforcement mechanisms can be found at Ohio Revised Code §3721.10, et seq.  As the statute makes clear, it applies to broad categories of nursing homes and skilled care facilities and provides broad protections to the residents of those facilities.  The Bill of Rights obligates the facility itself to protect the rights of its residents.  Those rights are spelled out in the statute and include the right to a safe environment and the right to be free from abuse, among other important rights.  O.R.C. § 3721.13. The statute allows the state to take enforcement actions but it also provides a private right of action.  As the statute states, “Any resident whose rights under sections 3721.10 to 3721.17 of the Revised Code are violated has a cause of action against any person or home committing the violation.”  O.R.C. § 3721.17(I)(1)(a).  The statute specifically allows residents and their families to seek injunctive relief as well as compensatory and punitive damages. O.R.C. § 3721.17(I)(1)(a). The Ohio Nursing Home Residents Bill of Rights is a powerful tool to help families seek justice.  Lawyers providing help to such families should consider its provisions when deciding how to proceed.