Case closed?
Imagine that you're informed about a deceased ancestor who stood to inherit a large fortune and that you may be entitled to a large portion of it, say $8 million. Now imagine that the year is 1919, meaning the $8 million would be equivalent to about $31 million today. Here's how a St. Landry Clarion Herald article reported the reaction of one man to such an event:
"McDonald has built a fine bungalow, drives an automobile and appears well supplied with money and is living in grand style. McDonald will be remembered by citizens of Opelousas as a day laborer here some years ago.”
There's only one problem. Neither McDonald nor anyone else who thought a significant fortune was on the way received any funds. Although their ancestor had in fact been a brother of the man whose will was the source of the excitement, he hadn't been named as a beneficiary. Or so they were told...
The ancestor in question here is Jean Francois Di Gradenigo (b. about 1730 in Venice, Italy, d. 1809 in Opelousas, Louisiana) and the will in question was that of Mons. Giuseppe Gradenigo. Members of their family had held positions of nobility and Giuseppe had at least sent money to Jean while the latter was in Louisiana, but an official document from the superintendent of state archives said that Giuseppe hadn't left any bequests to his relatives, according to the New Orleans Times-Picayune.
Now, there isn't any readily apparent evidence that government officials made a mistake or that anything nefarious took place in this instance, and I suspect that some of those who stood to inherit large sums ensured that every relevant document was scrutinized as carefully as it could be. Still, if you're a descendant of Jean Francois and his Mobile, AL-born wife Maria Marguerite Krebs, maybe you'd like to try and make sure that no stone was left unturned.
For more on this story, see this Pointe Coupee Library Facebook post.