Featured Post from Retire with Equity

The Rise of Grandparent Scams

Why a recent U.S. fraud case should have Canadians checking their caller ID

Aug 29, 2025

8 min

Sue Pimento

Before you scroll past thinking, “Oh, another scam alert,” please pause.


This isn’t your average “don’t answer spam calls” notice. What follows is an examination of the growing sophistication of grandparent scams—complete with call centers, scripts, and even AI voice cloning. More importantly, it’s about how to protect yourself and, especially, the older members of your family. Read on—not just for awareness, but for fundamental tools to keep your loved ones safe.


Even Elvis Isn't Safe From Scammers


You know the world has gone topsy-turvy when even the King of Rock 'n' Roll isn't immune to fraud. I've written before about the recent attempt to scam Elvis Presley's Graceland estate, but a recent story about senior fraud really got my blood boiling.


U.S. authorities in Boston just charged 13 people connected to what I can only describe as a "grandparent scam industrial complex" – a sophisticated operation that bilked over 400 elderly Americans out of more than $5 million. These weren't your run-of-the-mill phone scammers calling from their basement. Oh no. These criminals were running call centers with scripts, managers, and daily money-making leaderboards like they were selling insurance, not breaking hearts.


The math alone should make you furious: $5 million divided by 400 victims equals about $12,500 per person. That's not pocket change – that's someone's emergency fund, their vacation savings, or money they've been carefully setting aside for healthcare costs.


The Grandparent Scam: Emotional Manipulation 101


If you're not familiar with grandparent scams, buckle up. These predators have turned family love into their business model, and they're disgustingly good at it.


Here's their playbook:


Step 1: The Panic Call – "Grandma, it's me! I'm in jail and need bail money RIGHT NOW!"


Step 2: The Identity Theft – Using social media details (yes, those cute Facebook posts about little Johnny's soccer game), they sound convincingly like your grandchild. Some are even using AI voice-cloning technology.


Step 3: The Time Crunch – Everything's an emergency. No time to think, no time to verify. Just panic and send money. Real emergencies, by the way, allow time for a phone call to confirm details.


Step 4: The Collection – Cash via courier, rideshare driver pickup, wire transfers, even Bitcoin. Anything except the legitimate ways actual legal systems collect bail money (spoiler alert: the good guys don't send Uber drivers to your house).


The Boston Grandparent Fraud Case: Scamming at Scale


The level of organization in this Boston case reads like a twisted business manual. These criminals weren't just winging it – they had:


• Dedicated "Opener" staff who made initial contact with victims

• Specialized "Closers" who pretended to be lawyers demanding payment

• Management training programs for their scam employees

• Daily performance systems (because nothing says "organized crime" quite like gamifying elderly financial abuse)


A number of things bothered me about this case


The fraudsters got over $5 million from 400 victims – The simple math shows on average that each victim would have lost $12,500 – that’s not “walking around” money. I suspect many would have had to tap into a variety of savings accounts or possibly borrow from others to source funds on short notice. This creates an extra degree of hardship for victims who are struggling to manage on a fixed income.


The average age of the victims was 84. This breaks my heart. The oldest in this cohort are especially vulnerable. At this age, many seniors live alone or are more isolated, making them easier prey for these deceitful tactics. Many of them are still uninformed about how these scams operate.


The scammers showed a very high level of sophistication. According to court documents from the U.S. Department of Justice, District of Massachusetts (2025), the scammers ran a sophisticated “call center” operation with technology at multiple sites that allowed them to place a massive number of calls to unsuspecting victims.


• These scams would begin with an “Opener” employee, who would call victims and read a script (see below) pretending to be a grandson or granddaughter who was in an accident.


• Then, a “Closer” would allegedly follow up with another call, pretending to be their grandchild’s attorney, asking for a sum of money to pay for their grandchild’s fees due to the accident. Each of these call center locations had managers overseeing staff who trained, supervised, and paid employees.


The most sickening part? They kept detailed records of how much money they stole each day, treating vulnerable seniors like ATM machines with feelings.


Here is an actual photo of their “Leaderboard” taken as evidence in the Boston case.


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When it came to handling cash, they also had a plan for that. Most often, they used unsuspecting rideshare drivers whom they ordered to do a package pickup at the victim’s house.


And these heartless criminals often went back for seconds and thirds. Using lines designed to trigger seniors into emptying their bank accounts. They would say things like "Oh, there's been a mix-up," or "A pregnant woman's baby was lost in the crash" – any lie to squeeze more money from people who'd already been devastated once.


Now, I’ve been in enough boardrooms to know that leaderboards usually track sales of widgets, mortgages, or, at worst, how many stale muffins are left in the breakroom. But imagine walking into work and your boss says, “Congratulations, you scammed the most grandmas today—you win Employee of the Month!” That’s not just evil, it’s the kind of thing that should earn you a permanent bunk bed in a tiny jail cell.  And using Uber drivers to pick up cash? Please. The only thing Uber should be picking up is takeout and slightly tipsy people at 11 p.m.—not Grandma’s retirement savings.


Some of These Scams Are Coming From Inside Canada


Here's where this story hits close to home. While we might imagine these scams operating from some far-off location, some of the biggest operations have been running right here in Canada.

In March 2025, Montreal police arrested 23 people connected to a massive network that allegedly defrauded seniors across 40 U.S. states of $30 million over three years. The suspected ringleader, Montreal developer Gareth West, allegedly ran call centers from Quebec properties and laundered the proceeds into luxury real estate. West remains at large, proving that sometimes the worst criminals are hiding in plain sight in Canadian suburbs.


The Canadian Reality Check


According to the Canadian Anti-Fraud Centre, emergency or 'grandparent scams' have become one of the fastest-growing crimes targeting seniors in Canada, with reported losses rising from $2.4 million in 2021 to over $11.3 million in 2023.


Here's where it gets even more interesting.  Those figures are just the losses for gradparent fraud that are reported – experts estimate the true losses are at least ten times higher since only 5-10% of fraud victims come forward.  Let that sink in: we could be looking at over $100 million in actual losses annually in Canada alone.


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Here’s the part that really stings: no one is exempt. Not me, not you, not even that friend who insists they “don’t answer unknown numbers.” (Sure, Jan. We all know you still pick up when it says “potential spam.”)


This isn’t just about losing money—it’s about losing confidence. The shame, the self-doubt, and the “How could I fall for that?” spiral are often worse than the financial loss. I’ve seen strong, capable people withdraw after being scammed, too embarrassed to tell their own families. And honestly—I get the same chill when I read these stories: Would I have caught it in time?


It’s a reminder that vigilance is like flossing—we all know we should do it daily, and yet… sometimes we forget until it hurts.


Supporting an Elder Who’s Been Scammed


Here’s where we need to step up as families and communities


Practical Support:

• Help them file a report with the police and the Canadian Anti-Fraud Centre.

• Contact their bank to determine if the funds can be recovered.

• Lock down social media and adjust privacy settings so future scammers have less ammunition.


Emotional Support:

• Listen without judgment. Don’t say, “I would never have fallen for that.” (Trust me—you might.) or “you know better, Granddad”.

• Normalize the experience: this can happen to anyone. If AI can clone voices and manipulate emotions, it’s not about intelligence—it’s about being human.

• Follow up regularly. Shame makes people pull back, so check in to ensure they’re not withdrawing or losing confidence.


Your Family’s Fraud Fighting Toolkit


Look, I've spent over 30 years in the financial industry, and I can tell you that preventing fraud is always easier than recovering from it. Here's your family's defence strategy:


The P-A-U-S-E Method


Pause – Don't act immediately, no matter how urgent the request sounds.

Ask questions only family members would immediately know ("What's Mom's maiden name?")

Use known phone numbers to call your grandchild directly and verify information

Set up systems to protect family members (like a secret family password)

Explain to others – share this information widely with all family members


Know the Red Flags


• Demands for immediate action (real emergencies allow verification time)

• Requests for secrecy ("Don't tell Mom and Dad!")

• Payment via courier, rideshare, wire transfer, or cryptocurrency

• Emotional manipulation ("I'm so scared, Grandma!")

• Any request for cash payment to resolve legal issues


Family Password System

Set up a secret word or phrase that only your family knows. Make it something memorable but not guessable from social media. "Fluffy" (your childhood dog) is better than a pet name you posted on a recent social media post.


What to Do If You're Targeted


Stop. Don't. Send. Money.


Instead:

• Hang up immediately

• Call your local police to file a report

• Report to the Canadian Anti-Fraud Centre: 1-888-495-8501 or visit antifraudcentre-centreantifraude.ca

• If you've already sent money, contact your bank immediately

• Tell other family members what happened – you're not the only target


These criminals exploit the most powerful human emotions: love, fear, and the desire to protect our families. They've turned grandparents' natural instinct to help their grandchildren into a multi-million-dollar crime operation.


But here's what they're banking on (pun intended): that we'll be too embarrassed to talk about it, too confused to verify it, and too panicked to think clearly.  Don't give them that satisfaction.


Remember, the average age of victims in the Boston case was 84. These aren't people who have time to recover from financial mistakes. Every dollar stolen from a senior is a dollar that won't be there for healthcare, housing, or basic dignity in their final years.


We Can Fight Back


Knowledge is power, and conversation offers protection. The more we discuss these scams openly – around dinner tables, in community centres, at family gatherings – the more we hinder these criminals from succeeding.


Share this post with the seniors in your life. Not because they're naive, but because they're caring. And because caring people deserve to know how heartless criminals are trying to exploit their love.


What is your family doing to protect against fraud? What are your strategies and ideas for keeping our loved ones safe?


I’m also particularly interested in what financial institutions and various government agencies are doing these days to combat fraud and protect this vulnerable group. As I research this topic more, I’d love to hear from you.


Remember: Real grandchildren in genuine emergencies can wait five minutes for you to confirm who you're talking to. Scammers can't.


Helpful Resources:

• Canadian Anti-Fraud Centre: 1-888-495-8501

• Report online: antifraudcentre-centreantifraude.ca

• For more retirement security tips, visit retirewithequity.ca


Stay safe.


Don't Retire - Rewire! 


Sue



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Sue Pimento

Sue Pimento

Founder | CEO

Writer, author & presenter focused on financial literacy and retirement strategies. I advocate for the health, wealth & purpose for retirees

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The Grace to Fail: My MBA Journey (Part 3)

I have a confession to make. My wife Bonnie and I are addicts. Not the kind that requires an intervention, exactly, but close. We are addicted to home improvement. We are always planning the next upgrade, the next project, the next thing to tear apart and make better. It gives us genuine pleasure and a profound sense of accomplishment. Bonnie leads most of these endeavours. She is remarkably capable with power tools and can pull off a tool belt like she is strutting down a Home Depot runway (aisle). Our shared obsession has even spawned a series of Facebook posts called the 2 Capable Women, where we document everything from felling trees to the deeply humbling art of Ikea assembly. So there we were, driving in traffic, and Bonnie was telling me about her next project: removing the circa-1960 wood panelling and replacing it with modern shiplap. Mid-conversation, she went quiet for a moment and said, almost to herself, “I guess I need to allow myself the grace to fail.” I nearly drove off the road. You must understand something about Bonnie. She is a self-declared perfectionist. Not casually. She is committed to being a perfectionist at being a perfectionist. So, hearing those words come out of her mouth, unprompted, while discussing a renovation project, was like hearing your accountant quote Oprah. It stopped me completely. The truth has a certain ring to it. I heard that bell loud and clear. Because sometimes wisdom does not arrive in a lecture hall or a leadership book or a TED talk. Sometimes it arrives in a car, in traffic, from the person sitting next to you holding a coffee and thinking about shiplap. That phrase has not left me since. Many of us do this. We replay mistakes endlessly, convinced that self-criticism is somehow productive. We lie awake revisiting conversations and missteps, assuming that if we beat ourselves up long enough, we will emerge wiser. All we accomplish is a thorough self-beating followed by self-flagellation. Lots of noise. Zero progress. Zero calories burned. This is not just a problem for people climbing mountains or starting businesses. It plays out in perfectly ordinary moments. You send an email and immediately wish you had worded it differently. You make a comment at dinner that lands wrong and spend three days replaying it. You make a small error at work and carry it around like luggage for a week. The inner courtroom convenes regardless. Most of us are not failing spectacularly. We are just living, occasionally getting things slightly wrong, and treating that as evidence of something deeply and permanently wrong with us. It is not. It is just Tuesday. I have been thinking about this a lot lately because I am in the middle of my MBA at the Sprott School of Business. I wrote about My MBA at age 69 in Part I and Part II. Back in graduate school after four decades in the workforce, opportunities to feel uncomfortable, uncertain, and occasionally like you have wandered into the wrong building are plentiful. A recent assignment on crafting Team Charters and enhancing my leadership skills inspired me to write a personal manifesto for my graduate studies and to take a closer look at myself. You can read mine here. While working through it, I made a surprising discovery. Most of the commitments I was making to myself had nothing to do with school. They were about life. Read the instructions carefully. Ask for help sooner. Pay attention to what your emotions are trying to tell you. Trust your experience. Hold yourself to your own standards. And this one, which stopped me cold, and sounded very familiar: Allow yourself the grace to fail. There was that bell again. Those six words turned out to be the most important thing I wrote. Not because failure is something to celebrate, but because the willingness to risk it is the price of admission for virtually everything worth doing. Failure is not a topic most of us rush toward. It is about as pleasant as stubbing your toe in the dark. Yet every meaningful thing I have ever done required me to risk it. Starting a new career. Leading a sales team. Launching a business. Climbing a mountain. Writing a book. Going back to school at 69. None of it came with guarantees. All of it came with uncertainty, mistakes, and moments where I genuinely wondered whether I had lost my mind. The jury is still out on some of those. The irony is that failure and growth are inseparable. Dweck (2006) found that people who view setbacks as learning opportunities rather than evidence of inadequacy are more likely to persevere and ultimately succeed. Duckworth (2016) agreed, and in Grit, one of my favourite books, long-term success depends less on talent and more on the willingness to keep going after things fall apart. Neff (2023) added that people who respond to failure with self-compassion rather than harsh self-judgment show greater improvement and are more likely to try again. The friction produced by failure is often exactly what generates learning, but only if we give ourselves enough grace to stay in the game. I see this everywhere. Professionals are staying in jobs they no longer enjoy because starting over feels too risky. Retirees hesitate to try something new because they might not be good at it right away. Students who will not ask a question because they do not want to appear uninformed. And if I am being honest, I see it in myself. Every time I hesitate to contribute to class because everyone else seems younger and sharper. Every time I catch myself wondering whether I belong in the room. One exercise has helped me enormously. When I catch myself spiralling into negative self-talk, I imagine my five-year-old self standing beside me, listening. Would that little girl feel encouraged? Not a chance. So why do we think inner dialogue helps us? A recent example: I made a point in a meeting that got a polite nod and complete silence. You know the silence. The one that could mean anything from “interesting” to “what on earth did she just say?” I replayed that moment for two days. Eventually, I asked a colleague how the meeting had gone, and she said she barely remembered it. The forensic investigation was conducted entirely in my own head. I am not suggesting we lower our standards. We should hold ourselves accountable, learn from our mistakes, and strive to do better. But there is a meaningful difference between accountability and cruelty. Between reflection and rumination. Between learning from a mistake, and building a summer cottage on top of it, and checking in every long weekend. I worry about what this means for the generation behind us. Research by Professor Gabriel Rubin at Montclair State University found that despite living in one of the safest periods in history, Gen Z perceives risk virtually everywhere (Rubin, 2023). They have grown up knowing that at any moment, someone has a phone. One stumble, one terrible dance move, and the clip is posted before you catch your breath. Permanent, searchable, shareable public failure is something entirely new, and the consequences are showing up in surprising places. Monocle magazine noted young people standing completely still on nightclub dance floors, phones in hand, unable to lose themselves to the music. The club has become a stage, and the crowd has become the content. Instead of dancing, people film. Instead of connection, there is performance. This is not a small thing. Dancing is how humans have always signalled availability, built trust, and found each other. It requires a willingness to look slightly absurd. If we have raised a generation so terrified of being captured mid-stumble that they will not move to the music, we have handed surveillance culture a victory it does not deserve. Calculated risks lead to new opportunities, foster innovation, and teach lessons that comfort never could (Rubin, 2023). Risk aversion makes short-term sense. As a way of life, it quietly closes doors that were never meant to stay shut. Give yourself and the young people around you, explicit permission to be unpolished in public. To dance badly. To say the wrong thing and survive it. The phone will always be there. So, fortunately, will the music. Here is what I keep learning inside this MBA: wisdom arrives disguised as failure. The assignments that challenge me teach me more than the ones that come easily. The questions I most resist asking are usually the most important. I did not expect graduate school to teach me this. Then again, I did not expect to be here at seventy. I no longer think in terms of Wins and Losses. Those categories are too simple. I think in terms of Wisdom and Learning. Success builds confidence. Setbacks build insight. Both move us forward. Read that again. So the next time you find yourself at two in the morning replaying something you said three days ago, ask whether your five-year-old self would find your internal monologue useful. If the answer is no, offer yourself a little grace. Which brings me back to Bonnie. Last weekend, she pulled off that 1960s panelling. Every last piece. It was messy and uncertain, and at several points she was unsure what she would find underneath. There were surprises. There were moments of doubt. She kept going anyway. By the end of the weekend, the shiplap was going up, clean and bright and exactly right. She did not do it perfectly. She did it anyway. And it is beautiful. That is the whole lesson, right there, delivered by a woman with a pry bar and a tool belt, on a weekend in June. Failure is not the enemy. Most of the time it is just fear wearing a funny hat. And if you are lucky, it will teach you something genuinely worth knowing. Sometimes it comes from a research paper. Sometimes it comes from your wife, in a car thinking out loud about shiplap. Either way, listen for the bell. Writing my manifesto was one of the most clarifying things I did this year. Not because it solved anything, but because it forced me to decide, on paper, who I was going to be when things got hard. I want that for you, too. So I created the ReWirement Manifesto: a simple template for anyone navigating a new chapter, a big transition, or simply a Tuesday that did not go as planned. It is not a bucket list. It is not a vision board. It is a set of honest commitments you make to yourself, in your own words, that you can return to when your inner courtroom calls you to order. Download your free ReWirement Manifesto template here. Fill it in. Keep it somewhere you can find it. And the next time you are staring at a wall of 1960s panelling, wondering if you are in over your head, remember: the grace to fail is not a consolation prize. It is the whole point. Don’t Retire…Re-Wire! Sue My Book is Now Available for Pre-Order I hope you will consider pre-ordering a copy of Your Retirement Reset for you, a friend or loved one. It's available September 8, 2026 published by ECW Press - You can now order at Indigo or Amazon. And if you love supporting Canadian booksellers, please also check with your local independent bookstore. Most can easily order it for you.

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