As readers of this blog know, I lost my grandmother last fall. It was sad, but not tragic. After all, she was 99 and lived a long, productive, happy life. Last week, I (and my siblings) received a very formal letter from a lawyer with an enclosure — under Pennsylvania law, where my grandmother lived, beneficiaries of her estate are required to receive notice of her death. So, the lawyer duly enclosed the official Pennsylvania state language letting me know of my rights (to contest probate, etc.). The cover letter was equally formulaic:
Ladies & Gentlemen:
You will find enclosed with regard to the trust . . . the notice required under Pennsylvania Uniform Trust Act of your grandmother’s death on November 3rd, 2009.
Thank you for your attention to this matter.
Here’s the thing — this lawyer was at my wedding, invited to my son’s Bar Mitzvah, and has known me since I was 10. I get the same cover letter as someone he has never met — really? And, even if we didn’t know each other, the letter should be better.
How about this as the letter:
Dear Andrea,
I am enclosing the official PA state notice that is required under law. Of course, you already know of your grandmother’s death but we have to send this out. Please call me if you have any questions. In the meantime, hope all is well with you and, again, so sorry for your loss. May her memory continue to be a blessing to you.
That doesn’t take much energy to produce and only slightly longer time than the cut and paste job I am no doubt billed for in six-minute increments. Why don’t lawyers do this? Why can’t we remember that we are human, our clients are human, and we might even be friends.
And, by the way, this letter ensures that our professional relationship will end when my grandmother’s estate is closed.
Cross posted at Indisputably.
Writing a letter to a client is one of the hardest legal writing tasks for me. I always struggle to find the right tone. It’s disheartening that this lawyer did not consider tone at all. When we don’t think about the emotional impact of tone for a client, we contribute to the stereotype that lawyers don’t care about their clients as human beings. Sorry, Andrea!
The lawyer probably didn’t draft the letter.
But (presumably)he did sign it and he’s the one that caused it to be sent out. In my experience as both a lawyer in private practice and a lawyer who employed lots of lawyers, little things matter, particularly to clients with whom the lawyer has had a long relationship. I would think that a trusts and estates lawyer, in particular, would be sensitive to this.
I can’t imagine (although I could be wrong) that Professor Schneider’s grandmother set up a trust with hundreds of beneficiaries. But even if he had to spew out a form letter, it would have been an easy thing to cross out the canned salutation and write in “Andrea” while hand writing a note of condolence on the bottom. I have done it and have had it done on letters sent to me countless times.
Basic human decency is the reason to do it. Losing a client (as apparently has happened here) is a potential (and deserved) consequences.
It’s a lousy experience that provides a good lesson.
I prepare letters like this all the time and am torm between making a formal notification and a more personalized letter.
I lean towards the formal letter but do not reference a death, only the the fact that I am required to notify the beneficiary of the existence of a trust.