Jack Anderson died with a $108 million estate and one unsettled question: where, exactly, did he live? He had a house in Greenwich, Connecticut, and a life in Florida. The difference between those two sentences is worth $13.2 million.
Connecticut says Greenwich was home and is claiming $13.2 million in estate and gift tax — the tax some states charge on what you leave behind. The estate says home was Florida. Florida, you may have noticed, does not charge for the privilege of dying there.
In June, the Connecticut Supreme Court handed the estate — and every snowbird watching — a meaningful win. The court said taxpayers must prove they left the state with “clear and convincing” evidence — a high bar, but a reachable one — and it ordered a new trial.
So the Anderson estate gets another chance to prove that a man can, in fact, move to Florida. The rest of us get something more useful: a fresh look at how this game is actually scored.
The hunt is on
Connecticut’s estate tax now starts at $15 million — the same line as the federal exemption, which is the amount you can leave behind tax-free. Below that line, the state has no claim. Which is exactly why the audits concentrate on the estates above it.
And it is not just Connecticut. Domicile audits of snowbirds — people who winter in one state and summer in another — are rising. High-tax states watch their retirees drift toward Florida, and they do not wave goodbye. New York City has its pied-à-terre tax on part-time apartments. California has a proposed billionaire tax. The hunt for the departing dollar is a growth industry.
Here is the uncomfortable part. The auditor does not ask where you felt most at home. The auditor asks what the file shows.
What the file must show
“Domicile” is the legal word for your one true home state. You do not declare it. You document it.
Think of domicile as a court case you are assembling years before anyone files it. Every ordinary decision is an exhibit. Where do you spend your days? Where is your doctor? Whose driver’s license is in your wallet? Which state’s law governs your will?
Mr. Anderson’s estate is arguing that case now, after the fact, at trial prices. The entire point of planning is to argue it in advance, at filing-cabinet prices.
What to actually do
One: count the days. Keep an actual calendar of where you slept, and keep it every year. Vague memory is how estates end up in court. A day count is how they stay out.
Two: move your life, not just your mail. Doctors, dentists, driver’s license, voter registration, the accountant who returns your calls. Each one is an exhibit for whichever state holds it.
Three: move the estate documents. Have your will, trusts and powers of attorney re-signed under the new state’s law. An old-state will is the first thing an auditor reads and the last thing you want them to find.
Four: run the checklist before an auditor does. If your estate is anywhere near the $15 million line and your winters are anywhere near Florida, this is a this-year project, not a someday project. The Anderson estate is spending years and legal fees to establish what a clean file establishes in an afternoon.