How Older People Get Scammed
As my father approached his 90s, the daily stack in his mailbox grew—a dozen appeals for donations some days. He was impossibly frugal with himself: frayed canvas shoes and a tattered windbreaker for all seasons. He abhorred wastefulness. He would put down the phone when solicitors called. But the entreaties for money that flooded his mailbox, including many from firefighter, law-enforcement, and veterans’ funds, typically wound up on his desk.