Letters for George: Tax Time

American Taxpayers 1972 [D, J, K]

Dear George,

When Katja and I were in graduate school, taxes weren’t much of a problem. My meager grad stipend of $1450 was tax-free, and we only had to declare Katja’s $2000 part-time salary from Faber’s Fabrics. I filled out the forms each year, and it was a breeze. It didn’t seem much more complicated when I took my new job at the University of Cincinnati, though I now had a salary of $9,500 a year. I again did the taxes the first year. In the summer the IRS called me in for an audit. It seems I had misread the instructions and computed a deferment five times higher than it should have been. The IRS guy was very accusatory and obnoxious, though his supervisor read my nonverbal cues and concluded I was innocent but dense. The next year I decided not to take any risks, so I took our tax info to H&R Block in Northside, and they did the job for $10. Katja wasn’t pleased. The H&R Block office was a small storefront lodged between a bar with a large Hudepohl sign and a used furniture store. She thought we could do better.

Katja took over the taxes the next year. That was fine with me since financial matters felt too adult for me anyway. The next thing I knew Katja had hired a lawyer at Taft, Stettinius, and Hollister to do the task. If you were from Cincinnati, you would know the name, since it’s the family firm of President William Howard Taft, Senator Robert Taft, Governor Bob Taft, etc., and the law firm for many of Cincinnati’s major corporations and their CEO’s. Our household income had climbed to nearly $14,500 a year, but it was unclear to me why we needed the most prestigious law firm in the city to handle our financial affairs.

Katja has taken care of our taxes ever since, bringing our stuff to lawyer Teddy N. at Taft et al. on an annual basis. This year she thought that I should come along, so I did. The firm’s 95 lawyers occupy the 18th through 20th floors of the US Bank Building on Fountain Square. We rode up the express elevator, and the elegantly tailored receptionist called Teddy to meet us. Though I hadn’t seen him for 15 years, he was very cordial. We walked to his office, admiring framed original prints by Picasso, Dali, Calder, and a host of contemporary artists along the way. Katja had brought all of our financial documents in a paper bag decorated with a Bengal tiger, and she laid them out one by one for Teddy in what looked to me like a random order. She was thrilled when Teddy said the info was complete, this apparently being the first time. Our business completed, she and Teddy chit-chatted for a while. Teddy’s older son’s owns a Tibetan Mastiff which had recently won Best of Breed at the Westminster Kennel Club show The son was leaving shortly for China to get a new Mastiff. He’d recently had a new Mastiff litter of 13 and was shipping dogs to Chile, Australia, and other faroff places. He was flying with one of the puppies to Santiago. Katja updated Teddy on our sheepdogs, explaining that I was taking them to Mt. Airy Forest a lot. Then, at Katja’s prompting, I explained that I’d gotten our current will off the Internet, but we were wondering if somebody at Taft/Stettinius might help as draft a more professional version. Teddy was glad to oblige since they handle some very complicated wills. We exchanged friendly goodbyes and made our way out. My main conclusion is that it’s a good thing that Katja’s around to take care of this stuff.