June 6, 2001
Page One Feature
New 'Artificially Impoverished' Seniors
Get Medicaid to Pay for Nursing Homes
Annuity That Converts Assets Into
Income Can Help
Even Affluent People to Qualify; States Crack Down
By ANN DAVIS
Staff Reporter of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
JASPER, Ga. --
In a packed room at the public library in this small town, seniors listened
attentively as Rocco Canora told them how they could avoid dying broke after
depleting their hard-earned savings on nursing-home care.
By moving their
assets into what he called a "Medicaid annuity," they could appear
poor enough to get the government to pick up their tab for a nursing home. In
reality, they would be far from impoverished. The annuity would pay back their
entire nest egg in monthly installments over a few years. "Annuities can
protect what you've worked for," Mr. Canora said as he handed out fliers
for SunMark Group, an insurance broker in Duluth, Ga. "Remember, Medicaid
is everybody's right."
Martin Gardner
was an eager listener. "I'm disgusted with the U.S. government," said
the 75-year-old former defense-plant worker, who feared his wife would soon
have to enter a nursing home. "You work all your life, then you end up
stone broke. I want to fix my money so they can't grab it."
Since the late
1990s, sales pitches such as Mr. Canora's have led thousands of middle-class
and even affluent retirees to collect public assistance. Selling at a rate of
an estimated $300 million to $500 million a year, the Medicaid annuities are
the latest wrinkle in a strategy often described by critics as artificial
impoverishment.
Asset Play
Medicaid won't
pay for people's nursing-home care if they have assets of more than about
$2,000, not counting a house and car. This often means the assets go to pay a
nursing home until they're gone, after which Medicaid does step in, but heirs
are left with little. Lawyers and financial planners have long sought devices
to avoid this outcome, such as carefully crafted trusts, and Congress has
responded with crackdowns. Now, annuity sellers offer another strategy.
Their solution:
Hand over almost all of the elderly person's assets to an insurance company,
which agrees to send it all back, with interest, in monthly payments over a few
years. Voila, the person no longer has significant assets -- only an income
stream -- and thus can be eligible for Medicaid. This works so long as the annuity
appears to be set up for retirement income and is irrevocable and
nontransferable, even though federal officials say they didn't intend for the
Medicaid-eligibility guidelines they wrote to make this kind of maneuver
possible.
Medicaid
annuities have drawn tacit support from staffers at nursing homes, who
sometimes steer the elderly to Medicaid planners. Donna McDyer, social-services
director at a home in New Port Richey, Fla., estimates that 20% of its
residents who seek Medicaid have done some sheltering of assets. "I'm the
patient advocate," she says. "You do what's best for your
patients."
At Risk
But critics
such as state regulators see the annuities as a clear abuse and assail the
insurance industry for profiting from a product that they estimate has drained
$1 billion from Medicaid so far. Owners of some nursing homes are also opposed,
because Medicaid pays less than the private rate. Some of the sharpest
criticism comes from others in the insurance industry who sell a rival product,
insurance for long-term care. Joseph W. Jordan, a senior vice president at MetLife
Inc., says Medicaid annuities "smack of avoidance, and we think we would
put customers at risk" by selling them.
Now a
regulatory backlash is growing. Some states are restricting the annuities by
seizing the funds remaining in them when the elderly person dies. Other states,
such as Ohio and Pennsylvania, are starting to refuse Medicaid to some
assetless applicants on the ground that they are using an annuity to game the
system, not to obtain retirement income. "If you allow this to go on,
you're going to create a system where even Bill Gates could qualify for
Medicaid," says Joe Case, a spokesman for the Ohio Attorney General's
office.
Independent
agents who sell the annuities are raising funds for a lawsuit in hopes of
getting a federal court to weigh in against activist states such as Ohio.
Although insurance companies haven't joined in the agents' effort, they defend
their sales. "We don't believe we're doing anything outside the rules that
the government has set," says Margery Hughes, president of Allianz
AG's Allianz Life Insurance Co. of North America. "Our desire is to
develop products that people really need" and that "allow everybody
to be independent in their retirement years."
Others who sell
products used in the Medicaid strategy include General Electric Co., St.
Paul Cos., Allstate Corp., American Financial Group Inc. and
privately held Americo Life Inc. of Kansas City, Mo., which popularized the
annuities in 1998.
GE's position
is unusual because, as a big seller of long-term-care insurance, it has spoken
out against Medicaid asset-depletion and backed an association that is
dedicated to stamping it out. Yet GE's First Colony Life Insurance Co. unit
enables some customers to make their annuities nontransferrable, an essential
move in qualifying for Medicaid.
GE spokesman
Mike Kachel notes that GE's materials don't mention Medicaid. He says the
company isn't encouraging anyone to shelter money and has little control over
how the annuities are pitched because it leaves their sale to independent
marketing firms and agents. "Deliberate asset depletion is not part of
[our] product strategy," Mr. Kachel says.
Asset depletion
for Medicaid reasons took off in the 1980s, when some lawyers built a brisk
trade in sheltering money through trusts and ownership of expensive cars.
Congress cracked down in 1993, lengthening the number of years administrators
would "look back" at applicants' finances to see if they had transferred
their assets to their heirs or a trust. In 1996, Congress even authorized
prison time for some seniors who abused the Medicaid rules.
'Granny Goes
to Jail'
Advocates for
the elderly derided this as the "Granny goes to jail" law, and
Congress soon revised it, seeking to impose the prison penalty instead on
financial and legal advisers. But because of free-speech concerns, that
provision has never been enforced. Medicaid currently pays part or all of the
bill for two-thirds of people in nursing homes.
Meanwhile, a
few enterprising insurance agents pored over federal fine print and found an
opening. The Health Care Financing Administration, which oversees Medicaid,
warned that annuities shouldn't be used to "abusively shelter
assets." But its rules made clear what was needed to pass muster. For
instance, the annuity had to be bought to provide retirement income and
structured to pay back the principal within a senior's life expectancy.
An Austin,
Texas, insurance-marketing executive named Chuck Gill was among the first to
tweak annuities to make them Medicaid-friendly. Then, after he moved to a
marketing agency, he persuaded the Austin office of Americo's Great Southern
Life Insurance Co. to create a Medicaid annuity in 1998. Other insurers and
marketing agencies soon jumped aboard. Insurers created the annuities, while
the marketing agencies drew up brochures and trained agents to give seminars
for the public.
'You May
Cancel ...'
A brochure for
one Americo annuity promises "protection from nursing home costs" by
making assets "unavailable when an application for Medicaid is being
made." One from a St. Paul Cos. unit called Fidelity & Guaranty Life
Insurance Co. goes further: If told your annuity is "not allowable for
purposes of 'spending down' assets to gain Medicaid eligibility," it
advises customers, "you may cancel your contract and receive a full refund
..." St. Paul is in the process of selling this unit to London-based Old
Mutual PLC.
For insurers,
this was a way to expand a sleepy product line often used to structure lottery
prizes and court settlements. Unlike annuities that are tied to the stock
market (the "variable" ones), these are "single-premium
immediate annuities" for "term certain": one premium, payout
starting at once, lasting for a set period.
There is appeal
for independent agents, too. Michael Osadchey of Palm Harbor, Fla., says
Americo pays him a commission of as much as 7% of the annuity's face value,
more than he pockets for selling long-term-care insurance.
Not a Big
Money Maker
For buyers, the
terms aren't so hot. Buyers earn only about 3% annually on their money. And to
shift their funds into an annuity, people often have to first sell stocks or
bonds, triggering a tax bill. "It's a lousy investment, but that's not why
you're buying it," says Barry Rahm, an agent who sells an annuity called
the Wealth Protector from Employees Life Co. (Mutual).
Insurers and
agents soon found their market. Typical buyers were "blue-collarish"
savers with memories of the Depression who "didn't know about long-term-care
insurance or couldn't qualify for it or couldn't afford it," says James
Anderson, an Americo senior vice president. Dale Krause, an annuity broker in
Wisconsin, says he has done cases "right around the million-dollar
mark." But "it's the people that took 50 years to save a couple
hundred thousand that really are devastated," he says.
The annuities
are best suited to married couples, who under Medicaid rules can shelter part
but not all of their assets. The rules say that if a person entering a nursing
home transfers assets to his or her spouse, this spouse can keep half of the
couple's total assets, up to about $87,000, plus a house and car, without
barring the frailer partner from getting Medicaid.
But if the
healthier spouse pours the couple's money into an annuity, it is possible to
protect all of it. The annuity is set up to return all the money, in monthly
payments, to the spouse who remains at home. It deprives the couple of assets
but gives the healthier spouse income.
Occasional
Pangs
Fredric Zinger
of Zephyrhills, Fla., cared for his wife, who has a heart problem, for nearly
two years before putting her in a nursing home. In 1998, the retired trucker
turned nearly $200,000 over to an insurance company, and his wife went on
Medicaid, which now pays for her nursing home. Mr. Zinger, 77, lives on his
annuity income.
He admits to
pangs of conscience: "Who would ever think I'd be on welfare? If I could
have seen some way to pay it myself ... and still not go bankrupt," he
says, he would have.
In Sunnyvale,
Calif., Sarah Symington put $98,000 into an annuity and let Medicaid pay for
most of her husband's nursing home until his death last year. Now, the
97-year-old woman uses the $436 monthly annuity income to help pay her rent at
an assisted-living facility. "It's been too good to be true," says
her daughter, Sara Todd, of Palo Alto.
Marketers next
targeted people who didn't yet need nursing homes. Tyrone Clark, who says he
has trained about 7,000 agents through a workshop called Annuity University,
urged brokers at a recent seminar in Denver to tell seniors they face eventual
illness and likely bankruptcy. "Disturb them" with lines like
"the American dream just went down the tubes," he advised.
Seniors without
a spouse to transfer assets to are a tougher challenge, but some insurers are
tackling it. The tactic: a balloon annuity. It pays out a tiny monthly check
and then returns most of the money in the final month. The buyer thus gets rid
of assets and stays below income limits for a Medicaid recipient, which range
from $1,500 to $2,000 a month, depending on the state.
Hoping for a
Miracle
Ed Remisiewicz
arranged for his 84-year-old aunt, a widow with no children, to buy balloon
annuities after she entered a nursing home in New Port Richey. They totaled $336,000,
according to his insurance agency. "We knew her money would be gone if she
stayed a couple of years in the nursing home," says Mr. Remisiewicz's
wife, Annette. "We want to preserve her money in case she comes home -- in
case of a miracle."
Annuities can
work for the single elderly even without a balloon, although not quite as well.
Suppose an elderly man's annuity provides $1,400 a month of income. He
qualifies for Medicaid, but has to turn the whole $1,400 over to the nursing
home to pay part of its cost. So what's the advantage? Without this device,
he'd have to pay the home much more per month, maybe $4,000 or $5,000, and
would more rapidly deplete his assets. With the annuity, it's more likely there
will be something left for heirs when he dies.
It was balloon
annuities that galvanized state regulators. Mary Lou Percival, an eligibility
specialist in Washington state, became upset early last year when she felt she
had to approve Medicaid for an 80-year-old widow whose annuity would pay her
nothing for 59 months and then $325,000 in the final month. "This is
getting out of hand," she recalls telling colleagues. "That annuity
was not purchased to provide an income for retirement."
Ms. Percival
spurred her state to change its policy. Because states administer and partially
finance Medicaid, they have some leeway in interpreting the federal eligibility
guidelines. In addition, the federal government recently gave states greater
authority to recover what is left in an annuity when someone dies.
State Crackdowns
Now, Washington
state has decided that on future annuities bought by state residents, it has
the right, after a Medicaid beneficiary dies, to recover its Medicaid outlays
from what's left of any annuity in that person's name. It will let the heirs
have anything that's left over. At least 10 other states have put various
restrictions on the use of Medicaid annuities. Ohio and Pennsylvania now often
reject even applications involving couples, where no balloon payment is
involved. State courts increasingly are supporting the crackdowns.
At HCFA, a
deputy director, Charlene Brown, says the federal agency has done what it can
to stamp out Medicaid abuse. There isn't any way "to stop companies from
selling what they want to sell," she says.
State
clampdowns have produced some big surprises. After going into an Ohio nursing
home in 1999, Philip Parker, an 80-year-old former factory worker, let his
nephew and sole heir shift about $75,000 into a balloon annuity from Employees
Life Co. (Mutual). It would pay Mr. Parker $195 a month for about seven years
and $75,073 in the final month. But when Mr. Parker applied for Medicaid, Ohio
turned him down, saying he had transferred assets just to qualify for Medicaid,
not for retirement income.
The nephew,
Thomas Neal, says the insurer agreed to cancel the annuity and give all but
$10,000 of the money back. At a nursing-home cost of $5,000 a month, the funds
were soon eaten up, and now Medicaid is picking up Mr. Parker's tab.