Young man's lottery windfall has peers contemplating uses
January 18, 2002
BY DAN SHINE
FREE PRESS STAFF WRITER
Thaddeus Coats
Thaddeus Coats is Michigan's newest multimillionaire. The 20-year-old from Inkster slipped quietly into Michigan's Lottery offices Thursday to turn in his ticket and claim the $80-million Big Game prize ($43.9 million after taxes).
And then he slipped quietly out without facing reporters. He left lottery officials with a few quotes about how he nearly lost the ticket several times and how he intended to use the money for college, a trip to Japan and piano lessons. He said he bought the easy-pick ticket for himself while buying others for his grandmother.
Beyond that, Coats, a customer service representative for Weight Watchers, wanted to keep a low profile.
His Inkster neighbors described him as smart, hard working and devoted to his mother. "You couldn't ask for a better kid," said Bonnie Olds, who has known Coats since he was 8.
While Coats doesn't have too many plans yet for his windfall, others his age were more than ready to offer ideas on how to spend it.
But remember, they are just a couple of years out of high school -- much younger than the typical lottery winner. So don't expect talk of buying a motor home, paying the grandchildren's college tuition or monthlong vacations in Branson, Mo.
"I'd buy us a new fraternity house," 20-year-old Richard Odtohan, a sophomore at the University of Michigan-Dearborn and Delta Sigma Phi member, said Wednesday.
This is not your grandfather winning the lottery. Well, maybe it is. At least in Henrietta Palmer's case.
"I'd buy an 'old school' car like a Grand Prix or Impala from the '60s or early-'70s," said Palmer, a nursing student at Wayne County Community College.
Cliff Snitgen, a sophomore English major at Oakland University, said Thursday that he would be overwhelmed by winning the lottery.
"I wouldn't know what to do," the 19-year-old said.
Then he changed his mind.
"Can I buy my way into a Hollywood picture?" Snitgen wondered.
"I'd buy myself a spot on 'Saturday Night Live.' But Molly Shannon would have to be on, too," said Jennifer Jones, 19, a journalism major at Oakland.
Then Snitgen, who wants to be a teacher, said he'd enroll at Harvard to get his doctoral degree.
"They'd ask, 'How's your GPA?' and I'd say, 'It's green,' " Snitgen said as he and his friends laughed.
Worth a chuckle is Stuart Reynolds' idea for a small portion of the winnings.
"I'd buy some Enron stock so if it did rebound, I'd make a killing," the Wayne County Community College student said.
He didn't say whether he would get Arthur Andersen to do his taxes.
Most of Coats' peers said they would have opted for smaller annual payouts -- about $3 million -- for the next 26 years instead of the lump sum.
"I'd take it in installments. That would be best for me," Odtohan said. "That way I wouldn't go out and spend it all the time and get out of hand."
Most of those who pondered having $43.9 million in the bank said they would invest most of it for use in their golden years. Those who were students said they would complete their educations -- and be able to pay off the student loans.
But their were some dreams, too.
Odtohan would open a club or Internet cafe. Palmer would invest in a hair and nail salon. Sabrina Carter, 19, also a student at WCCC, would buy three houses (for herself, her mom and her aunt) and a Jeep Cherokee.
Snitgen would travel around the world, get a place on a lake in northern Michigan and maybe one in northern California overlooking the Pacific. Jones would buy a Volkswagen Beetle "in orange if they had it." Then she remembered that she would be a millionaire. "Then I could get it in orange!"
All agreed that having that much money at a young age could be difficult. They said they would expect their parents to offer opinions on how they should spend their windfall -- and they said they would listen.
Most said the biggest problem with winning the lottery would be determining who is their friend because of the sudden wealth. All said they would just keep the friends they had back when they drove cars with dents, worried about student loans and fretted over grades.
"They'd be your old friends, but they'd expect you to pick up the check at dinner or at the bar," Jones said with a laugh.