[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E985-E986]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




  LISA P. RIMLAND: NEWLY RETIRED COURT-APPOINTED RECEIVER FOR NURSING 
                          HOMES WILL BE MISSED

                                 ______
                                 

                          HON. JOHN B. LARSON

                             of connecticut

                    in the house of representatives

                       Friday, September 27, 2024

  Mr. LARSON of Connecticut. Mr. Speaker, I include in the Record an 
op-ed by Lisa Rimland for recognizing Tim Colburn's career of courage, 
compassion, and care for those who are most in need and often 
forgotten.
  I have known Tim Colburn all my life. We grew up together in a 
federal housing project called Mayberry Village, named after the 
legendary Dr. Franklin Mayberry of East Hartford. We jokingly referred 
to it as the `Cardboard City.' Tim was then always caring, 
compassionate, and competitive--excelling at everything he did. In 
sports, he was probably the best all-around athlete in the Village and 
in the town we grew up in; he especially excelled at track and field, 
which require individual athleticism.
  His love of people, with special attention to the underserved and the 
underdogs, is legendary. It was an honor for me to know and count Tim 
as a true friend. I stand in awe of his selfless leadership and 
accomplishments. He was never concerned about taking credit and always 
did the right thing because that is how he was raised and what he 
valued.
  Lisa Rimland's op-ed in the Hartford Courant confirms what the world 
should know about Tim. They attest to Tim Coburn's contributions to his 
family, his friends, his community and associations, and the state and 
Nation he loved.

       One of the hardest-working people in Connecticut, who has 
     spent virtually his whole life doing good, retired recently. 
     What he accomplished should be shouted from the rooftops but 
     few people know his name because the world in which he worked 
     is not a world that is spoken about often. In many ways it is 
     not that well-known, yet it affects most of us intimately and 
     inevitably.
       The man is Timothy Coburn, and for decades he has 
     functioned as a court-appointed ``receiver,'' a person who 
     goes into nursing homes and other care facilities that are in 
     trouble, financially and/or otherwise, and tries to save 
     them. In these situations, the human stakes are very high. If 
     the problems in a home cannot be fixed or the home cannot be 
     sold, the home may have to be closed, resulting in transfer 
     trauma risks for frail residents and patients and the loss of 
     jobs for countless employees.
       The world of nursing homes has recently become better 
     publicized because of the COVID pandemic. With what they have 
     gone

[[Page E986]]

     through, these homes are now firmly in mythological 
     territory, as is Mr. Coburn. I first became aware of Mr. 
     Coburn and his world in July of 2012 when the care home I was 
     living in was put into receivership by the Superior Court due 
     to various problems. I was living in the care home because 
     after I was declared disabled in 2004, I could not find 
     housing assistance in Mansfield.
       On the evening of July 18, 2012, after Mr. Coburn had just 
     been appointed receiver of the home in which I lived, a quick 
     but violent thunderstorm knocked out the power, and the 
     generator failed. I called and reported the situation to 
     Barbara Cass of the Department of Public Health, and within 
     an hour a truck arrived hauling a new generator which was 
     hooked up to restore power. Mr. Coburn had rented the 
     generator. This is only one example of Mr. Coburn's constant 
     generosity. If a home that he was in charge of needed 
     something, he would go out right away and buy it with his own 
     money, then later get reimbursed by the court. If anyone 
     living in one of his homes had exceptional needs or 
     circumstances, he accommodated them. He was always available 
     to lend a helping hand, a listening ear, or a ride to 
     dialysis.
       Skilled-nursing facilities have been his specialty. A 
     nursing home receivership usually lasts about two years, but 
     Mr. Coburn's last one ran through the pandemic and is 
     approaching four under another receiver. Miraculously, he 
     remained healthy through most of the pandemic. Few of us can 
     imagine what he and all those responsible for running the 
     homes went through during the pandemic. But if you visit the 
     homes now, and even more so if you live in the homes, you can 
     see and feel the pandemic's mark, almost as if you were 
     visiting a country where a terrible war was fought: the 
     bodies'of the casualties are gone, but you can feel their 
     presence everywhere. It is quiet and peaceful, yet with 
     echoes of an unspeakable past, and the words ``God willing'' 
     are appended to every plan.
       This is the world that Mr. Coburn left, having served the 
     frailest citizens of our state during both peace and 
     metaphoric wartime. It was in these homes that the most 
     helpless of the pandemic's victims died, and that many of the 
     most courageous of the healthcare workers fought to save as 
     many as they could, and to save themselves. Many people shun 
     the world of these homes even if they have family members 
     living in them. This is a tragedy in many ways, because there 
     are lessons to be learned in the homes that cannot be learned 
     from books, lessons for the heart as well as the mind, 
     lessons in compassion and even keys to the mysteries of war 
     and peace. Eventually, most of us will occupy a bed in one of 
     these homes. Why wait until then to visit?
       If more people embraced the homes with the love, compassion 
     and enthusiasm of Mr. Coburn, it would be a better world for 
     all of us, both inside and outside the homes. If there is one 
     sure lesson that can be learned from the pandemic and the 
     homes, this is it.

                          ____________________