The fourth conversation at the Black Men’s Excellence Summit shifted the room from vision and motivation to protection. If the earlier sessions focused on why legacy matters, how it is built, and how it is sustained through identity and mentorship, this final panel addressed a harder truth: legacy can still be lost after it is built if it is not legally protected.
“I am pleased to be here today,” attorney Arthur “Ray” McCoy told the audience, explaining that he had stayed for the entire Summit to absorb the context of the conversations. “The attorneys are the folks who help you put together a plan to protect the legacy. The legal documents you need to make sure whatever assets you leave actually get to the people you want them to go to. But this is about more than paperwork.”
Ray grounded his remarks in personal history. He grew up in Baltimore City, raised by a single mother who had eight children. “I learned resiliency and community from my mother,” he said, crediting Black women, and specifically his own mother, for shaping the life that allowed him to do the work he does today. That lived experience, he explained, is why estate planning begins with listening. “When I work with families, I start by saying, I need to understand your story. What are you dealing with. What matters to you.”
He shared a painful example of what happens when these conversations are delayed. Despite being an attorney, his own mother resisted talking about wills, health care directives, and powers of attorney. Ten years before her death, she suffered a major stroke. “She could not speak for six months. She could barely walk. She was all there mentally, but we had no legal right to make decisions for her,” he said. Without a health care directive or power of attorney, the family lost valuable time navigating limitations that could have been avoided. “By putting this off, we lost serious time that could have been used to take care of her.”
Ray then described another moment that revealed how even modest assets can fracture families when no plan exists. His father died owning little more than a nearly new Ford Torino, a car he loved. “He had no will. There were eight kids. Something as simple as transferring a car turned into disputes,” he said. “That is why I do this work. To help families avoid that kind of pain.”
Estate planning, Ray emphasized, is not about death alone. “Most of us will experience some period of incapacity before we die. If we do not put things in place, courts will step in. That process eats up what you are trying to leave to your loved ones.”
Lee Lafayette, an estate planning and probate attorney, reinforced that message by tying it directly to homeownership and wealth transfer. He reflected on his own family’s history. His grandparents migrated from Arkansas, worked land, and owned their home in a small Black town in Illinois. “But there was no estate plan. That house, that land, those memories never made it to the next generation,” he said. Later, his financially savvy stepfather developed dementia with no plan in place. “Those investment properties never made it to me either.”
“So yes, real estate is the number one way wealth is transferred,” Lafayette said. “But only if it actually makes it to the next generation.” In his probate practice, he sees the same pattern repeatedly. “The number one reason people end up in probate is real estate. If they came to me before, we could have avoided probate completely.”
When audience members asked what probate is, Lafayette explained it plainly. Probate is a court process that determines where assets go after someone dies. It is slow, expensive, public, and often invites conflict. “It is also where creditors come looking,” he said. “And by the time families come to me, they have often already paid debts they did not legally have to pay.”
Questions quickly turned to cost, a concern raised repeatedly throughout the Summit. Ray addressed it directly. “Mistakes in estate plans cost five figures. Sometimes six figures. No estate plan costs that much,” he said. His standard package, including a will, health care directive, power of attorney, and transfer on death deed, typically costs around $1,500, often less depending on circumstances. “Tell me what you can afford. I cannot do it for free, but I will meet people where they are. Our community needs this.”
Lafayette added that he allows flexible payment arrangements. “This is about time and care. I want to make sure your plan reflects your life, not just whoever lives the longest.”
As the discussion deepened, the attorneys addressed special needs trusts, disability planning, and the importance of getting documents right to avoid jeopardizing benefits. They clarified the difference between wills and trusts, stressing that trusts are not about having a lot of money but about having a reason. Ray shared a personal example. “I have five kids. Some are doing fine. Some struggle. I do not want any of them to experience homelessness after I die. So the trust says they can live in the house rent free for three years. That is my last parental act.”
Questions about retirement accounts and beneficiary designations followed. Ray explained that many assets transfer outside of a will if beneficiaries are properly named. “A will controls only what is in your name and has no beneficiary. Its real purpose is deciding who is in charge when you are gone.”
As the session closed, moderator Jeffrey Robinson urged urgency. “Strike the iron while it is hot,” he told the room. Planning packets and contact information were placed in every attendee’s bag. The message was clear. Do not wait.
This fourth chapter completes the arc of the Summit’s legacy conversation. Building wealth matters. Identity and mentorship matter. Presence and love matter. But without legal planning, all of it remains fragile.
Legacy is not only what you build in life.
It is what survives you.
