Sunday, June 25, 2023
The eulogy I gave at my father's service Saturday morning.
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While Dad was practicing law in New Canaan, the wife of a man who required around-the-clock care because of Alzheimer's came to see him.
She poured onto his desk 360 canceled checks representing 30 years of premium payments that her husband had diligently made to CNA Insurance for a long-term care policy.
But now that he needed the coverage, CNA's claims department was playing a cat-and-mouse game—deliberately avoiding opening claims seeking long-term care benefits and failing to send out written notices after such claims had been denied.
Dad orchestrated a class action lawsuit, accusing CNA of violating the Connecticut Unfair Trade Practices Act, fraudulent misrepresentation, negligent misrepresentation, unjust enrichment, breach of contract, and bad faith.
CNA paid millions to settle the case.
When I was about eight years old — I got angry with my Dad over some now long-forgotten and no doubt minor issue, but whatever it was, it loomed large for me then, and I told him I wanted to sue him.
But instead of sending me to my room, Dad sat down and said, "Let me hear more about this. Perhaps, I can represent you."
His response mortified and confused me. Either this man was so gentle or confused that he would bring such an action against himself, in which case I was ashamed, or he was so much smarter than me that his end game was something I could not begin to fathom. Either way, litigation was off the table.
Growing up, Dad spent hours helping me with school essays. I would write, and Dad would edit line by line, explaining how each sentence might be improved.
Often he would read a line or two and then set the page down and say — you know – and then launch into one of the most interesting stories about law, history, and politics. Eventually, Mom would appear, accusing us of frolic and detour. “He needs to get the assignment done; it’s getting late.”
Dad ran for the state legislature to advocate for equality and fairness and to improve the state in the face of out-of-control spending. He cared deeply about the people.
In his freshman year, Dad got legislation passed requiring the water company to replace the utility connections for seniors at no charge.
If each qualifying individual today were to take advantage of the program over the next decade, it would mean a $3.6 billion helping hand to some of this state's most needy citizens.
Later he was instrumental in securing the passage of legislation to require the Connecticut DMV to reinstate the driver's licenses of those incarcerated upon their release.
Before the change in the law, 'confusion' over invalidated licenses often led to arrests, parole violations, and even reincarceration of the very people trying to get their lives back on track.
On his final day in the legislature, the majority and minority leaders praised my Dad on the House floor.
The minority leader said, "Every once in a while, there is a standout. Somebody who, with their intelligence, their thoughtfulness, commands respect. And John Hetherington is one of those men."
Another colleague said: "One of the things that is probably the most disturbing to me in politics is no matter how well you know someone, sometimes they can just turn that public face on you. And it's disturbing because you thought you knew them.’
“But John Hetherington is the real John Hetherington, and that's all we've ever seen because John Hetherington doesn't have a public face. He doesn't need one. It doesn't get any better than John Hetherington."
