In some editions, a Jan. 28 Sports article about former Miami Dolphins running back Eugene "Mercury" Morris incorrectly said that the film "To Kill a Mockingbird" was set in Mississippi. It was set in Alabama.
| Page 4 of 5 < > |
Long After His Retirement, Morris Still Making Claims
|
Discussion Policy
Comments that include profanity or personal attacks or other inappropriate comments or material will be removed from the site. Additionally, entries that are unsigned or contain "signatures" by someone other than the actual author will be removed. Finally, we will take steps to block users who violate any of our posting standards, terms of use or privacy policies or any other policies governing this site. Please review the full rules governing commentaries and discussions. You are fully responsible for the content that you post.
|
Morris said he read the plan carefully and realized the doctor had left out a key provision at the end of that sentence: "or part of the central nervous system." Didn't his neck injury qualify for that? In 1989, independently of the board, Morris saw more than a half-dozen doctors who he said concluded that he did indeed have a nerve problem. Finally, the plan sent him to an orthopedic specialist in New Jersey who qualified him for line-of-duty disability, Morris said, but only for a partial-permanent disability, never addressing the nerve problems.
After two more years of haggling over this language and the plan's insistence that the matter be handled in arbitration, Morris settled for $295,000.22, a figure that Atlee Wampler, a Miami attorney who advises him for free, said is far below what someone with his condition should receive. "He took it in the face of them forcing him to arbitration," Wampler said.
But Morris, with the help of an attorney, had language inserted into the settlement that said he would be entitled to full retirement benefits, which would qualify him for the larger payments today.
In 1996, he went to court to have a declaratory judgment made on his disability benefit. The judge said the matter had been taken care of in the settlement. So Morris appealed. The retirement plan came back and sued him for legal fees.
"They wanted to put him down so nobody would try this again," Wampler said, then gave a dry laugh. "The nerve of a beneficiary trying to judge the breadth of his benefits."
This time, though, Morris won, arguing himself before a U.S. magistrate judge.
Two years ago, Morris sued again, for the higher retirement benefits he said his injury allows and are provided for in the plan once a retiree turns 55. He insists these are protected by the terms of his settlement. He even had a trial scheduled for 9 a.m. Feb. 4, the day after the Super Bowl, in U.S. District Court in Miami.
"I was excited," he said. "One day they were going to have the biggest game and the next day they were going to have the biggest pain."
But last year, the plan successfully argued that the claim already had been dismissed by lower courts.
Still, Morris pushes on. A few days ago, he sat in his house filing three motions in response. There were more late nights, more legal papers for Gita to type at 3 a.m.
Morris figures he has generated almost 200 letters back and forth between the courts and law firms. Wampler patiently tries to tell him that this is an arduous fight, that courts like to preserve settlements and leave discrepancies in retirement plans up to Congress to settle. He knows Morris listens when he says this, then stubbornly ignores the advice.
'Do U Wonder?'
Despite everything that's happened, Morris still loves football. None of the 1972 Dolphins remains as fiercely defensive of the only undefeated team in modern NFL history as Morris. His star rose quickly as a player, culminating in 1972 when he had 1,000 yards, and fell quickly two years later when the injuries took hold.





