It’s no secret – actually, we’re quite proud of it – that a division of my office staff devotes a good amount of time and attention to collecting and finding the owners of “unclaimed property.”
First off, you might wonder what unclaimed property is. Put broadly, it is any possession of value someone has misplaced, forgotten about or left behind. It could be shares of stock, an income tax return, jewels in a safe deposit box or simply cash sitting in a savings account.

“That’s his tough luck,” might be your automatic reaction to our hypothetical, absent-minded chap who loses his stuff. “Why should state government get involved?”

But someone needs to serve as the custodian, or caretaker, of these possessions, until the rightful owners or heirs can be found.

Luckily our state code specifies that this orphan property revert to the State Treasurer’s Office. Our job is to serve the people, of course, so we try to find owners.

One of our field representatives earlier this year found $140,000 belonging to a non-profit corporation that serves the physically and mentally handicapped.

Such an effort includes employing full-time office staff in Charleston and field representatives to track down claims; publishing periodic newspaper inserts listing property and owners; and doing a certain amount of marketing.

Does this cost something? Sure. People don’t work for free, though I assure you no one is getting rich in our pursuit of unclaimed property owners.

It’s important to note, however, that this venture is not simply an altruistic endeavor to make ourselves look good, or a slick public relations vehicle. It also makes financial sense, for the programs this agency administers and the larger state budget as a whole.

Let me illustrate:

We are presently holding about $80 million in unclaimed property. We invest the liquid assets in interest-bearing accounts, but the principal forever remains in our custody, waiting to be claimed by the owner – if he or she has been identified.

Some tangible possessions are eventually auctioned off, but again, those proceeds are not inhaled into some nebulous black hole of state government. Results of the sale are kept at hand, in the hopes we locate owners.

OK, you might ask again, what does this have to do with the price of eggs?

For one, it allows my office – thanks to legislation we pushed through last session – to use the interest generated, up to $500,000 a year, to plug any potential budget holes in our prepaid college tuition plan.

That plan, a product of this office, guaranteed West Virginia families a child’s college tuition by paying today’s rates for tomorrow’s prices. Actuaries persuaded the Legislature to suspend that program, though it has been replaced by our Smart529 plan, in which families can begin a college investment program with no more than $100.

No one knows the value of education better than I. Raised by working class parents in Boone County, any success I have enjoyed has its genesis in my West Virginia University degree.

But neither does education tell the full story. We are, as the corporate catch-phrase goes, “team players” when it comes time to balance the state’s budget.

The Treasurer’s Office poured $22.9 million into the state’s general revenue fund over the last 10 years, including $8 million in fiscal 1998 and $5.4 million in fiscal 2003.

The latter contribution occurred on the last day of the legislative

session, as lawmakers searched for ways to balance the books. I found out lawmakers needed the money when the chairman of the House finance committee contacted me by cell phone at a funeral graveside.

In that same 10-year period, we found $44.3 million in unclaimed property for our state’s residents, set against $19.3 million in the program’s operating expenses.

A well balanced newspaper story recently pointed out that we are spending $77,000 to print an insert listing the names of unclaimed property owners. Entirely true.

But you have to spend a little money to find a lot of money. In the process, we reunite folks with their possessions, help educate our state’s children and contribute to the state’s finances as a whole.