I am Olga Ponorovsky, I am 80 years old, and I watched more than $1.3 million—my life savings—vanish because of a cruel, calculated scam that preyed on my trust and my age.
It began in September 2023 when I came across what looked like a legitimate online investment advertisement. As a retired engineer, I believed I could evaluate opportunities carefully. I was wrong. That ad was the doorway through which unknown scammers entered my life and systematically drained me financially.
Over months, these fraudsters convinced me that I was investing in something real—something profitable. They pushed me to withdraw money again and again, promising returns that never came. Trusting what I was told, I made 30 separate transactions over five months, totaling more than $1.3 million. Some single withdrawals were as high as $80,000, $100,000, $149,000, and even $210,000.
Every one of these withdrawals was done in person at my longtime Chase Bank branch in Hallandale, Florida, where I had banked for over a decade. The staff knew me. They knew my habits. They knew I did not normally move money like this. Yet no one stopped me. No one questioned me. No one protected me.
By the time I realized the truth, it was too late. The money was gone. The promises were lies. I had been exploited.
Devastated and betrayed, I filed a lawsuit against Chase Bank, accusing them of failing to protect me from an obvious case of elder financial exploitation. Their own systems had reportedly flagged several of my transactions as suspicious—yet the bank still allowed every single withdrawal to go through without delay, without intervention, and without warning.
Worse, Chase allegedly failed to report my situation to Florida’s Central Abuse Hotline, something required under the Florida Adult Protective Services Act. Had they followed the law, this nightmare might have been stopped before it destroyed my financial future.
My attorney, Andrew Frisch, made it clear: Florida has specific laws designed to protect seniors like me from exactly this type of scam. Banks are not just encouraged—but legally and ethically required—to act when warning signs appear. According to my legal team, reporting my activity could have saved me.
Chase, however, refuses responsibility. They claim the blame lies solely with the criminals—the unknown scammers—and argue that because I authorized the transactions myself, they had no duty to intervene. They have even filed a motion to dismiss my case.
But the legal landscape is changing. States like Florida are recognizing how widespread and devastating these scams have become. As my attorney explained, cases like mine stand a better chance in states that take elder protection seriously.
As I fight to recover what was taken from me, I want other seniors and families to hear this loud and clear: education and oversight are critical. These scams don’t usually happen all at once—they happen slowly, transaction by transaction, until everything is gone.
If someone had been monitoring my accounts, if someone had stepped in sooner, this could have ended differently.
I am Olga Ponorovsky. I am the victim. And what happened to me is not rare—it is happening to seniors across America every single day.