Edward B. Box, III, comes from a long line of ancestors in this region. It’s important to him that the things he’s gathered in this world are distributed as he sees fit.
“I want my (property) to be protected and handed down as it should be,” he said.
He’s is a member of the Southern Ute Indian Tribe. That means, when he dies, in accordance with the American Indian Probate Reform Act of 2004, his property will go to his eldest child. If there is no oldest child, then the one oldest grandchild, or the one oldest great-grandchild and so on. Within those laws, it is possible that nothing could go to a spouse or partner or other family members.
John Roach wants to provide more flexibility for families. “It is my belief that a person should have the ability to change this,” said Roach, fiduciary trust officer for the Southwest Region of the Department of the Interior. “And that can be changed with a will.”
Roach saw the potential problem with the reform act, called APRA, early on. It was passed in Congress to combat an issue with inherited land called fractionation, where lands passed through generations get divided into factions of property so small they hardly serve the use of individual ownership.
“We have tracts (of land) that have over a thousand owners,” Roach said. “If you have more than 20 owners, you cant get them to agree on where the sun rises, much less on how to lease the land for agriculture or gas and oil or whatever.”
So Roach had an idea. He wrote letters to numerous law schools and caught the attention of Lucy Marsh, a law professor at the University of Denver.
“I run a program in Denver where students write wills for low-income people and families, and so I thought, ‘Well, it’s all the same deal,’” Marsh said. “Well, it turns out it’s way more complex.”
She described APRA as incredibly difficult and said without a proper will, many family members are at a loss.
“It’s the heck with the second or third kids. That is just ferocious.”
So, for the second year, Marsh and a group of students packed their bags and spent their spring break in the Four Corners, setting up shop in makeshift legal offices at the Sky Ute Casino Resort in Ignacio to help. And it’s all pro bono.
Colin Fletcher, in his second year of law school, jumped at the chance.
“I’m here to help out tribal members,” Fletcher said. “That’s the bottom line. I’m a big believer that if it’s your property, then you can do with it what you want after death, and (APRA) takes that right away.”
Marsh said she brought 21 students this year, up from ten last year, and said she had to turn some away. This week, they plan to provide the same services to members of the Ute Mountain Ute Tribe in Towaoc. They also plan to meet with students at Fort Lewis College and local bar associations.
The law students worked under supervision of Roach, Marsh and Paul Padilla, a former student of Marsh’s who now holds a private practice in Durango. He said the service is invaluable to tribal members, and the experience is rewarding for students.
“A lot of law students in Denver want those 17th Street jobs in corporate law with a six-figure starting salary,” Padilla said. “But I think this is a really cool way to show a different facet of the legal profession. This is hands-on law in an under-served area.”
A few years ago, Padilla said, there were only 900 attorneys on the entire Western Slope, as opposed to tens of thousands in the Denver area.
“It’s a pretty big contrast,” he said.
Southern Ute tribal member Georgia McKinley said her father wrote his own will, but it wasn’t recognized as a legal document.
“It’s important to get this done,” McKinley said. “In case of a death, with every family there are hardships. Maybe there is a house. Maybe there is land. It’s important to have a will.”
bmathis@durangoherald.com
