Death Pics

Divorce lawyers generally hate fighting over tangible personal property such as furniture, collectibles, and appliances. For the most part, used furnishing and household goods are of little economic value. However, for some people, those items can be invested with a great deal of emotional value and this can lead to conflict and present barriers to settlement.

One of the very first divorce cases I handled was extremely simple. The young couple had just been married a little over a year. They had no children, no real estate, one low-balance credit card, and a set of green drinking glasses. The green glasses became the focus of all my client's disappointment, hurt, and anger.

The lawyer on the other side of this monumental litigation was an established, experienced, middle-aged gentleman named George Gross. He had forgotten more about divorce than I knew at the time and he was a delight to work with. When I called and told him that my client, the wife, would not agree to give up the green glasses, George responded, "Let's just divide them in half." I gave him the bad news: "Mr. Gross, there are an odd number of green glasses."

His practical, experienced response: "Break one of the sonofabitches!"

Occasionally, however, a case presents itself that involves personal property of significant value, such as antiques, grand pianos and other musical instruments, or unique pieces of furniture. Or, in one case I remember well, a collection of Victorian death photographs.

As photography became more available and affordable in the late 19^th century, families sought to memorialize their loved ones through post-mortem pictures. The custom died out (pun intended) early in the 20^th century.

My client was the film and photography librarian at an Ohio university. He was a devotee of Victorian death photographs and had what he identified as the largest collection in the world. All of his collection had been acquired during the parties' marriage and was subject to the property division in the case. We offered to have the collection appraised and to buy out his wife for one-half of that value. Her lawyer told us his client was ready to make such a deal.

Valuing collectibles necessitates identifying an expert who can provide a fair-market appraisal. Sometimes, finding an acceptable appraiser is not difficult – many people can ascertain the value of the more common items, such as stamps and sports memorabilia. Opposing counsel and I went about the process of finding someone to tell us what the photos were worth.

In those pre-Google days, the process of finding our appraiser involved contacting other known collectors, whose names were provided by my client who was most knowledgeable, and asking if they felt they were qualified or if they could provide names of others who could help us. We sent out a number of letters.

Most of our correspondents replied. And every one of them who did so told us the same thing: My client was identified as the go-to expert on the value of Victorian death photographs! Opposing counsel and his client eventually agreed that my client could set the value and that wife would accept one-half as her share. There was little alternative but to trust him to be honest and fair.

When he had completed his inventory and arrived at a value, he told me that he had added about 10% before we made our proposal for settlement. He wanted to be sure that everything was on the up-and-up and that he would be able to keep his precious death portraits in good conscience. And so he did.