Luck be a lady (with a capital "B")

No one has come forward to claim the $365 million dollar Lotto prize in Lincoln, Nebraska yet.

The winning ticket was sold at a local convenience store but the holder of the ticket has yet to step forward. He/she probably was murdered by a close family/friend who coveted the prize, the biggest in Lotto history.

My grandpa, a deeply "religious" man, used to buy Lotto tickets once a week and grew bitter at God for not ever letting him win big. Luck be damned, he knew that God was the one pulling all the strings.

I never bought Lotto tickets because I know that I would be an unproductive member of society if I did win. Instead of earning an honest living and trying to do something meaningful in the world, I would just live in a presidential suite and go to luxury spas everyday. What a waste of a life.

Most Lotto winners haven't fared much better than that. Here are some sad cases:

Evelyn Marie Adams

Evelyn Marie Adams hit the jackpot not once, but twice, buying both winning tickets at the 7-11 store her husband owned in New Jersey.

At the time Adams won, she was required to take winnings as an annuity paid out over 20 years. While the winnings were taxed at 50 percent, the government initially took only 20 percent, surprising her later with a tax bill for the remaining 30 percent. Like many lottery winners, Adams had to sell off her annuity to pay her taxes and her debts.

She spent some money on travel, visiting South America, Hawaii and Disney World, and ignored the seven marriage proposals she got. But she did follow some bad advice; she was told to become a professional gambler so she could use her gambling losses to offset her winnings at tax time. Adams says she spent so much money gambling that she actually lost more than she won.

Today, Adams lives in a trailer park and works in an upscale food services company. She does still play the lottery, but only in affordable amounts now and then.


William "Bud" Post

In 1988, William "Bud" Post, a traveling carnival worker who also did house painting and other odd jobs, won $16.2 million in the Super 7 Pennsylvania lottery. He was living on a government disability pension at the time.

Within months, he was successfully sued by a former girlfriend for a third of the prize, about $5.3 million, and his brother Jeffrey was imprisoned in Florida for trying to hire a hit man to kill Post for a share of the winnings.

Post says he bought Cadillacs, tractor-trailers, utility vehicles, Harley Davidsons and electronic gadgetry. He also gave relatives loans, set his family up in doomed businesses, and borrowed in advance of his lottery payout

Today, Post has come full circle. He now lives entirely on a government disability pension of $450 a month.


Curtis Sharpe

In 1982, Curtis Sharpe, a plant operator at Bell Labs in New Jersey, claimed his $5 million New York State lottery prize, with his wife on one side of him and his mistress on the other.

Sharpe stayed on for eight more years in his $20,000-a-year phone company job so he could earn a pension, but he lived the high life. His 1983 wedding set him back $100,000 and he even fed a number of gate crashers. He bought a beauty parlor for his fiancée, invested in Florida real estate and fell behind in payments to the IRS.
With fellow winner Lou Eisenberg, who became a lifelong friend, he promoted the lottery in TV, radio and billboard advertising.

Today, Sharpe, in his mid 60s and the father of eight, is a preacher in Tennessee. He sold off the remainder of his annuity, but he still drives a fancy car and lives in a comfortable home. He also sill is involved in several side businesses and entrepreneurial ventures.

Lou Eisenberg

On Friday the 13th in 1981, when Lou Eisenberg won $5 million in the New York State lottery, he was earning $225 changing light bulbs in midtown Manhattan. At the time, it was the biggest jackpot in the world.

Dubbed "Lightbulb Lou" by the press, the painfully shy Eisenberg quit his job and became a state lottery poster boy. With fellow winner Curtis Sharpe, who became a lifelong friend, he promoted the lottery in TV, radio and billboard advertising.

His 20-year annuity has come to an end but he says he enjoyed every cent, despite some bad investments and losses. He and his first wife, Bernice, bought a Brooklyn condo and did a lot of traveling in the early years. When they divorced in 1990, he assigned her half his winnings.

He met his next wife through the lottery; she was a lottery spokesman. They moved to Jupiter, Fla., and Eisenberg began betting on dogs at the Palm Beach Kennel Club. His second wife asked for no share of the prize when they divorced not long ago.

Today, Eisneberg, 73, is living in an apartment in West Palm Beach, is dating a woman he met at the dog tracks and survives on a $600 monthly Social Security payment plus a union pension of several hundred dollars a month.

What would you do with 365 million dollars?