His wife, Jan, has nonsmoker's lung cancer. Together, the lovebirds have a standing weekly date with in-home hospice workers. At their helpers' suggestion, the couple yesterday inaugurated a La-Z-Boy couch.
"We want visitors," Bender said, "and we don't want them to see us on hospital beds."
When work hurts
Last summer, Bender walked from his home-studio in an old meat market on South Street to the MSB concourse for the sole purpose of closing his business.
"All they'd have to do is look at my tax returns," he figured. "It's pretty clear I'm not making any money."
Weeks later, a Revenue Department investigator rang Bender's doorbell. "He looked around and said, 'You'll get our decision by mail.' "
The letter arrived as promised. The verdict? Denied.
Baffled, Bender called the investigator to seek answers.
The artist said he was told that his paintings, sculptures, and supplies would have to be removed from his home for him "not" to be in business. And then there was the matter of neighbors noticing foot traffic in and out of the building.
"I couldn't believe it," Bender exclaimed. "That was family and hospice workers!"
Last fall, Bender received his diagnosis and a Veterans Administration declaration rendering him "100 percent unemployable" due to the service-related disability.
"It would be life-threatening for him to keep working around all those chemicals," argued Bender's bookkeeper, Joan Crescenz. "And financially, he'd risk his VA benefits. That would be crazy."
But the city wouldn't budge.
Suspicious minds
I spoke to the revenue investigator, who affirmed his suspicion about the artwork. But Revenue Commissioner Keith Richardson wouldn't give any details about Bender's case, citing "taxpayer confidentiality."
