Freedom Of Information Act

Last week in Connecticut, a theory was put forth: that the three asset managers who’d come forward with the winning Powerball ticket were doing so as a favor for a client who was too embarrassed to do so himself. To the naked eye, this seemed to check out. First off, it took Brandon Lacoff, Tim Davidson, and Gregg Skidmore nearly a month to claim their $252 million prize, and they only did so after lottery officials essentially waged a manhunt to find them. Second, they didn’t seem excited at all about their post-tax lump sum of $103 million. No smiles, no jazz hands, no chest bumps for the camera. Third, the guys all work for a firm called Belpointe Capital, an asset manager that, while it affords them the luxury of living in Fairfield County, is not at the point where it’s making everyone rich beyond the dreams of avarice or where the principals are in a position to be telling clients what’s what or failing to acquiesce to their demands, unconventional as they may be. Finally, a “person familiar with the matter” swore it was true. So most people chose to accept the theory and move on with their lives. The crack investigative team at the Stamford Advocate, however, decided this wasn’t over. Instead, they demanded to see a copy of the ticket, in addition to “passport and driver’s licenses of the winning trio and a photocopy of a check made out for $103,586,824 to a trust set up by Davidson, Lacoff, and Skidmore,” all of which they were able to obtain it under the Freedom Of Information Act, which was conceived with exactly this sort of matter of public importance in mind.

Upon viewing Davidson’s signatureprinted name on the above scan, despite being unclear what it proves exactly other than that he signed the ticket after the fact, one might be satisfied that three men did in fact pool 33, 33, and 34 cents each to buy that winning ticket. Like the Advocate, however, someone else is not yet finished here. Read more »