FAMILY FEUDS: A James Island lawsuit illustrates the danger of waiting to resolve who owns family land

Alan Hawes/The Post and Courier

Julius Steven Brown (left) still feels comfortable walking the rolling hills of the heirs’ property his great-grandfather, Simeon Pinckney, once owned on Fort Johnson Road. The land is the subject of an heirs’ property lawsuit. David and Lisa Savage (right) bought 4.3 undeveloped acres on the eastern edge of the property in 1996.

Julius Steven Brown has few memories of his great-grandfather, Simeon B. Pinckney, except that he wasn't a slave but a sharecropper.

In 1874, just nine years after the Civil War, Pinckney bought 20 acres along the eastern end of what today is Fort Johnson Road, not far from the fort that fired some of the war's first shots.

He lived on the island for almost 50 years, was married for a time and sired four children, one of whom, James Pinckney, had many children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren of his own.

Brown, 75, said the Pinckney family also welcomed others onto their land, including African-Americans from nearby plantations. Here, they could stay while trying to make a fresh start.

As the years passed, relatives came and went. The family stopped planting collard greens, squash and okra, and no longer kept cattle and chickens. New suburban homes sprung up nearby.

The family grew -- and gradually grew apart. Many relatives headed for new opportunities in northeastern cities.

Others moved to other parts of James Island, while a few, like Brown, continued to live on the land where he was born.

Much of the family reunited recently, but it wasn't a festive occasion. Instead, they gathered inside the S.C. Supreme Court to hear their lawyers argue about who really owned the property that Simeon Pinckney bought more than a century ago.

Typical dispute

For an heirs' property dispute, the case of Robinson v. The Estate of Harris was as typical as it was complex.

On one side, some family, including Brown and some of his relatives, alleged that others had asserted a false claim on the property. They sought to have the land sold off and the proceeds split up among the rightful heirs.

The other side of the family included the heirs of the late Eliose Pinckney Harris and many others. They denied that there was any fraud and -- even if some things weren't right -- they argued that too much time had passed to address it.

Sometime after buying the land in 1874, Pinckney and his wife Isabella drifted apart, and she was deeded 5 acres on the western end of the site. Pinckney held onto the other 14.3 acres. Both died without wills in the early 20th century

James Pinckney was their only biological son to produce further heirs, but the lawsuit alleged that three other people -- Ellis, Simeon and Matthew --were dropped off on Pinckney's land around 1900 and became "yard children."

One of them, Simeon Pinckney (not the original owner), married Laura Riley. In 1946 she recorded deeds to divide the 14.3 acres between Ellis Pinckney and her son Herbert.

It's possible that she was able to record the deed because she was the widow of Simeon Pinckney -- even though he wasn't the Simeon B. Pinckney who had bought the land.

Brown said he remembers his grandfather, James Pinckney, talking about yard children.

"But I didn't know what he meant when he said that," he said. "I thought he meant the kids were playing in the yard."

Brown said his grandparents and parents didn't have a clue about this 1946 change in the deeds until about 2003. "They thought everything was always the same way," he said. "They thought everything was the way it was supposed to be."

After Brown's mother died, that side of the family began researching property and genealogical records. Then they sought a lawyer to file suit, which was done in 2005.

Attorney Edward Brown, who represented the other side, said there is nothing to substantiate the claims that Ellis Pinckney and the other descendents are not legitimate heirs -- or that they weren't really part of Pinckney's family.

"I think it all came about with this concept of the 'yard children.' That was foreign to me," the attorney said. "It's foreign and demeaning."

Joshua Walden, supervising attorney with the Center for Heirs' Property Preservation, said the Fort Johnson case has all the trappings of most heirs' property disputes: A hodgepodge of owners and claims that some heirs aren't legitimate, or that some deeds or wills are fraudulent.

"There's always a lot of gray area regarding who's an heir, who's not an heir, whether someone executed a deed and knew what they're doing," he said.

Not just family

The legal matter that went to the S.C. Supreme Court twice was more than a Pinckney family reunion.

Over the years, family members had sold off more than 5 acres, and many other property owners found themselves dragged into this legal dispute.

David Savage, a Charleston lawyer, took care when he, his wife Lisa and other family members bought 4.3 undeveloped acres on the eastern edge of the property in 1996. Savage and his wife lived about a mile away and thought the property would make a nice investment, and a nice place for a new home one day.

Savage even required the sellers to arrange for an archaeological survey. He noted that the Pinckney family previously sold the 4.3 acre tract to another set of buyers in 1966, and no one said anything at that time.

Still, when the lawsuit arose, Savage put his title insurance company and others on notice. "I didn't have a sense of peace," he said. "Worry doesn't get you anywhere ... (but) the fear was, 'Hey, I might lose my household.' "

"I knew somebody was going to be sadly disappointed, but there was nothing else I could have done," he said.

Several others who had bought property from the Pinckney family found themselves also listed as defendants.

Savage said he took some consolation from knowing that neither he nor the many other defendants had been accused of doing anything wrong.

"We were just innocent property owners," he said. "This isn't the case of a white couple stealing property from African-Americans."

What the court decided

The courts ultimately didn't wade into the question about whether there was fraud committed more than 60 years ago, when new deeds were recorded on the Pinckney land.

Instead, the most recent S.C. Supreme Court rulings -- against Brown's side and in favor of the Estate of Eliose Harris -- focused on the legal concept of laches, the idea that if someone waits too long to make a claim, then it no longer is valid.

Walter Bilbro Jr., the attorney for Brown's side, said he will ask the Supreme Court for a rehearing. He declined further comment.

Attorney Donald Howe, who helped argue Bilbro's case before the Supreme Court, said it was a hard case for the court to decide.

"On both sides you had nice people where something had happened in the past that brought them at odds," Howe said. "None of it was the fault of anybody living, but the court has a job to do. That part was kind of difficult. How do you make this fair? It has to go to A or B. You can't cut the baby in half."

Meanwhile, the lawsuit has left a bad taste in the mouths of some who were involved in it.

Judy Pinckney Singleton, the only heir who was a defendant and who still lives on the land, declined comment.

Julius Brown said that Jerome Harris, who now controls most of the property, came by Brown's house one night but didn't discuss the dispute. "He quit talking to me since then," Brown said. Harris, who lives in Trenton, N.J. could not be reached for comment.

Joshua Walden said if the Supreme Court's decision has any significance beyond the parties involved, it's a warning that people can't sleep on their rights.

"This case should put everyone on notice that if you feel there are things going on with your property, you need to address the issue immediately," he said. "It's scary because what I run into an awful lot on the education side is that some heirs are of the opinion that they should just leave it the way it's always been."

Walden said some heirs might be afraid to seek help or turn to the courts, partly because they fear that someone is trying to steal their property or undermine them. "That belief is not entirely unfounded," he said. "A lot of my clients get letters on a regular basis saying there's interest in buying their property."

But staying silent for too long can have consequences of its own.

Brown still feels comfortable walking the rolling hills on the largest chunk of Pinckney land -- a 9-acre mostly undeveloped parcel that is valued at more than $1 million on the county's tax books.

There's a view of marsh leading to Parrot Point Creek, a small wooden house where he lived after he got married -- and a lot of memories.

Brown said he doesn't understand the Supreme Court ruling, or why it's not possible to set right a wrong committed a long time ago. But he is not as bitter as the frostbitten oranges clinging to a tree in his backyard.

"Forgery is forgery," he said. "You have a rift in a family."

"I don't like the way it went because it's wrong, but hey, it's America," he said. "I am disciplined as an old man. Nothing surprises me anymore."

Meanwhile, Brown still visits the grave of his great-grandfather, which is hidden under bushes in a side yard of a suburban home a half mile away from his own.