Dad’s Error Nets Michigan Woman $300,000
When you send Dad to the store to pick stuff up for you, he'll usually screw it up. And it did, but in a good way.
A 33 year old Oakland County, Michigan woman recently won a $300,000 Lottery jackpot because of her father.
Winner Is Anonymous, But Has No Problem Throwing Dad Under The Bus
The woman, who wishes to remain anonymous, asked her father to pick up a lottery ticket for her. She told the Michigan Lottery:
"My dad was going to the store, so I gave him a few dollars and told him to get me a lottery ticket. He came home with a Bingo ticket, which I have never played since I usually only play the Cashword games. When I finished scratching the ticket, I had my dad look it over because I thought I was reading it wrong. After he looked it over, we scanned it on the lottery app to confirm because we both didn't believe what we were seeing. When the message came up confirming my $300,000 prize, we both started crying! It still doesn't seem real."
The winning ticket was bought at the Super Happy Dollar Market (how can you not like that name?) in Pontiac.
Did Dad Get A Cut Of The Action?
Nowhere mentioned in the entire story is whether or not Dad will get a cut of the proceeds, because after all, if he doesn't buy the wrong ticket, there is no money.
I hope it doesn't turn out to be a nasty family lottery ticket fight, because history shows those are the worst.
A 2017 law passed in Michigan allows residents to remain anonymous after they win, which is a good thing.
Anonymous Is The Way To Go When You Win The Lottery
If you've never won a big lottery prize (that would be me!) you may not know that winners are often besieged by solicitors, long lost relatives and other assorted ne'er-do-wells who want some of that stash.
The Daily Beast once recounted the tale of a Michigan man, Joseph Palmarchuk, a West Michigan man who $1.25 million in the Tennessee lottery, only to be hounded by folks wanting a piece of the action.
Palmarchuk was dodging strangers who had heard about his good fortune. And these strangers requested—sometimes demanded—that he reward them with a gift to make their lives better. Others hawked Florida timeshares, or their services as financial gurus who said they knew better than anybody how to put his millions to work.
The retired Chevrolet service manager started answering the phone in character. “Michigan State Police,” Palmarchuk would say. “How can I direct your call?”
The happiness Palmarchuk had thought would come to him and Phillis after his miraculous lottery wins had been compromised, leaving him fearful and leery of others.