Flint councilman's funeral, life insurance money prompt fight, lawsuit asking for millions

In life, Flint City Councilman Eric Mays earned accolades and garnered criticism as a controversial local leader.

Now in death, family members of the firebrand are embroiled in a battle over his body. And money: a $75,000 city life insurance payout with no named beneficiary, and alleged online donations for a funeral that may not happen.

The clash spurred a judge this week to temporarily delay Mays' burial. It also prompted a lawsuit against Flint Mayor Sheldon Neeley asking not only for the insurance money, but at least an additional $1 million.

Mays, 65, died Feb. 24 at his home. An official cause of death was not immediately released. Almost immediately, problems arose.

Lawyer Joseph Cannizzo Jr. represents the former councilman's son, Eric HaKeem Deontaye Mays, in a recently filed lawsuit. They say the ex-lawmaker's siblings are holding his body "hostage" at a local funeral home, intentionally sidelining Mays' son and denying he is Mays' biological child.

The son is suing four of his father's siblings and the Flint funeral home that has Mays' body, seeking control over funeral arrangements. The lawsuit alleges the siblings are inappropriately using the death to seeking online donations for the funeral.

The former councilman's sister told the Free Press all of the allegations in the lawsuit are false.

The dispute prompted a Genessee County judge on Thursday to temporarily postpone Mays' funeral, previously scheduled for Saturday. Another hearing is set for Monday morning.

The fight also spilled over into a long-standing feud between Mays and other Flint city leaders. During a recent city council meeting, Cannizzo said Neeley and other officials may be scheming to prevent paying out the former councilman's life insurance policy to his son.

A colleague echoed those claims in a lawsuit filed Friday.

"The city is wrongfully denying Mr. Mays access to the city's life insurance policy that was in place on his late father, preventing him from applying for the insurance proceeds to which he is entitled as the named beneficiary on the policy," said John Fernandez, a lawyer working with Cannizzo and the Lento Law Group,

"This appears to be nothing more than a cruel act of retaliation against a grieving son as a result of animus the defendants in this action felt for his father."

In a statement, Neeley and city Human Resources Director Eddie Smith quickly denied the allegation, explaining the complicated situation must be resolved in court.

"We are disappointed that misleading allegations are creating undue strife in our community. We continue to lift the entire family of Eric Mays in prayer as mourners wait to pay their final respects to the first ward councilman, and we pray for comfort and peace for our community in this time of sorrow," Neeley said in a statement emailed to the Free Press.

Veronica Simon, the former councilman's sister who is named in the lawsuit, told the Free Press the allegations by Mays' son are false. In a phone interview Friday, she said Eric HaKeem Deontaye Mays is a part of the family and included in discussions about funeral arrangements until he was approached by his father's attorney.

She suggested the attorney "dangled money" in front of him, prompting the lawsuit, but declined to provide additional information. Attempts by the Free Press to reach other siblings named in the lawsuit were unsuccessful.

Loyst Fletcher Jr., a lawyer who represents at least some of the siblings, did not return a phone message seeking comment. A representative who answered the phone Thursday at the Moon Funeral Home, the location of Mays' body, declined to comment or say whether anyone else could speak about the issue.

While battles among a family after a death are not unprecedented, this particular quarrel is driving discussion throughout city hall and the greater Flint community.

"I would not put it in the bizarre camp, but I wouldn’t put it in the common camp either," said Daniel Borst, a Grand Rapids attorney who serves on a statewide legal advisory board that specializes in estate planning.

"The grieving process can bring unexpected things out of people. Things can go in unexpected directions."

Cannizzo and Eric HaKeem Deontaye Mays said in statements they appreciated the Genessee County court's decision that resulted in delaying the funeral. But Cannizzo, who previously represented Mays in some of his fights against the city, foreshadowed other fights are on the horizon.

During Wednesday's Flint City Council meeting, he told council members he tried to help Mays' son start the process of collecting his father's city life insurance policy.

But they were denied "I assume on Mayor Neeley's orders, but I can only surmise," Cannizzo told council.

Every elected official in Flint is eligible for a life insurance policy that would pay out $75,000 upon accidental death, according to a copy of the city rule provided to the Free Press.

"Flint City Councilman Eric Mays never designated a beneficiary for that life insurance policy, and under the applicable City benefit policies, 'in the event no beneficiary is designated, the policy will be payable to the Employee’s estate,' " Smith, the city human resources director, said in a statement.

"A personal representative of the late councilman’s estate must be designated by the probate court in order for the city to effectuate payment, and to date, the city has not received any documentation showing that this has occurred."

In the event someone dies without a will or other legally binding instructions, Borst noted situations can get complicated quickly. He said fights over what to do with a person's remains are not uncommon, especially when there are numerous people suggesting they have equal claim to make the decision.

He noted Michigan lawmakers envisioned this scenario, creating a law that allows for the designation of a funeral representative. Even if a person dies without a will, this designation can clear up confusion or frustration over who makes arrangements, he said.

At the time of his death, Mays was fighting a three-month suspension from his council seat levied by his colleagues on the city's legislative body.

They temporarily ousted him after they said he used "racist rhetoric" during public hearings. He and his lawyer Cannizzo tried to fight the suspension in federal court, but a judge denied requests to intervene.

This was far from his first time Mays fought with colleagues. He regularly traded barbs with other officials during public events, once notably likening the council president to Adolf Hitler and giving a Nazi salute during a meeting.

He served the Flint community for more than a decade, notably during the city's long-lasting water crisis. His supporters — and even Neeley, with whom Mays fought frequently — described him as a fierce advocate for his constituents.

There is no indication the former councilman had a will or picked such a representative. For now, that likely means additional legal wrangling.

In the meantime, the city of Flint is requesting residents observe a "collective moment of silence" at noon Saturday, noting this was the time previously set for Mays' funeral before the court acted.

There is still no clarity as to when the councilman might be laid to rest.

Contact Dave Boucher: 313-938-4591 and on X, previously called Twitter, @Dave_Boucher1.

This article originally appeared on Detroit Free Press: Flint councilman's funeral, life insurance payout prompts fights