In his court, relatives accuse Nelda of concealing estate property in Louisiana, and they want foundation attorneys booted off the case for alleged conflicts.
Weeks later, back in Orange county court, surviving twin Homer Stark emerges from straddling the fence in the war. His lawyers argue that Nelda intended to give him Lutcher's large Colorado ranch "for the wrongs that she had done," but others prevented that from happening. And they allege that Homer was illegally thrown off the foundation board back in 1991 -- in a meeting that they say never took place.
Photo courtesy of Ida Marie Stark
An idyllic start: Grandmother Miriam reads to the "adopted" Stark twins.
In nearby district court, Burgess shows the kind of bare-knuckle brawl ahead when he seeks to have Judge Hahn removed from the case. The attorney argues that Hahn is a close golfing buddy and former business associate of some opposing lawyers, and has other conflicts as a member of the Lamar State College-Orange Foundation. Last September, around the time of the new suit by the family, the Stark Foundation gave the college $673,000 -- the largest single donation in the school's history.
Hahn pointed out that he advised attorneys in the last case that he had connections to lawyers on both sides, not unusual for the judiciary in a relatively small county. And he noted that the college foundation had no ties to the Stark Foundation contribution. But Hahn stepped aside in the case, which will now be heard by former Houston appellate judge Eric Andell.
Elsewhere, the family demands depositions from the foundation trustees, while the foundation insists that their claims be thrown out. And more motions and directives and orders and pleadings and all manner of legal maneuvers continue to converge on various courthouses.
Late on a weekday morning at the fortresslike Stark art museum, the two guards inside look momentarily startled as their only visitor enters.
The emptiness accents an already strong sense of vast, cool isolation along the sterile walkways and galleries. Past the Steuben crystal and the ceramics and Native American art and Frederic Remington sculptures are subtle suggestions of the strife waiting outside.
The painting A Dangerous Situation follows another title, Return of the Hunting Party. Just around the corner from Andy Anderson's whimsical carving -- a crass courtroom crowd -- is the boldly proclaimed featured attraction:
"Stark Legacy: Selections from a Personal Collection."
Promotional material boasts that these works had been hanging for years in Nelda Stark's home, and were "never seen before by the public."
Other than the politely trailing museum guard, the gallery gives an odd sensation that someone else is watching. There on the wall, between the picture of Lutcher Stark and the doorway, is the photo portrait of a staring Nelda Stark. She's got closely cropped dark hair and a white blouse primly buttoned fully to the base of her neck. Her black-rimmed glasses rest above high cheekbones, eyes locked in an intense protective gaze over this impressive collection.
There's no frown. No smile. Nelda wasn't sharing the fortune or her secrets with the family -- then or now.
