Long before she died, a professor who had taught at a
small college in the Midwest started making a list of what she wanted done with
her belongings once she had died. She had no living relatives, but she had
taught at the same college -- the one she had herself attended as an
undergraduate -- for more than four decades.
Upon her death, the professor left a sizeable amount of
money to the college. But her belongings were dispersed among dozens of former
students according to her wishes. Pieces of antique furniture went to some
students; settings of bone china tea cups and saucers, framed prints and
paintings to others. By the time the executor of her estate was through, the
professor's belongs were shipped off to their new owners, more often than not
arriving as a surprise to the recipient.
The professor left several hundred books and unpublished
papers and assorted documents to one of her students who had gone on to become
a professor himself. Over the years, he sorted through the books and documents.
While he didn't believe there was anything of great monetary value, the
sentimental value of the material was incalculable.
Among the materials was an inexpensive plastic sheath in
which the professor had left assorted museum and travel brochures as well as
programs to various events she had attended over the years. Her student had set
the sheath aside and it sat for years on a bookcase in his home office.
Recently, when he was cleaning and organizing his office
after a semester of teaching and papers piling up everywhere, he came across
the sheath and decided to take a closer look at its contents. All the brochures
and programs were still there, but when he had emptied the sheath, he noticed a
plastic Ziploc bag at the bottom that he'd never noticed before.
When he took a closer look, he found that the bag
contained two Wedgwood portrait medallions (one apparently a limited edition)
and one sterling silver commemorative medallion. A quick search on the internet
revealed that the value of the items was not insubstantial.
Since his professor had been so intentional about how she
had dispersed her belongings, he was fairly certain that the medallions hadn't
been sent to him in error. But because they were so personal in nature, related
to the work his professor had spent decades doing at her college, and were also
of some value, he wondered whether it was wrong not to ask someone at the
college if they would like to have them.
It might be a kind gesture, but the professor's student
has no obligation to offer to return the medallions found among the papers and
books he was left to the college. As he points out, his professor was
meticulously deliberate in directing who should receive her various belongings
upon her death. If she had wanted the medallions to go to the college, she
would have left such instructions.
The former student should decide if he wants to keep his
inheritance or to donate them to the college. The decision is his and his alone
and he should make it with a clear conscience and the knowledge that his former
professor trusted him to do the right thing.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin
(c) 2018 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. DISTRIBUTED BY TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.
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