Florida probate litigation regularly features emotionally charged will contests, particularly when a very elderly testator makes a late-in-life change to an estate plan that disinherits a family member. These cases often sound compelling at first blush. But compelling narratives are not evidence, and Florida courts remain disciplined about what actually defeats a will.
The Third District’s recent decision in Reeves v. Gross is an excellent illustration of how Florida courts analyze testamentary capacity in the post-2021 summary-judgment era—and why many will contests fail long before trial.
I. The Setup: A 100-Year-Old Testator and a Disinherited Grandson
The facts in Reeves are dramatic, but not unusual in sophisticated probate disputes. The testator, a prominent publisher and businessman, executed his final will at age 100 and died less than two months later. The will disinherited his only grandson and left the bulk of the estate—95%—to a charitable foundation the testator had created years earlier.
Predictably, the grandson challenged the will on grounds of lack of testamentary capacity.
From a litigation standpoint, this is where many contestants believe they have momentum: extreme age, medical issues, hospitalization close in time to execution, and a result that departs from earlier estate plans. Reeves shows why those facts, standing alone, are not enough.
II. Florida’s High Bar: The Presumption of Testamentary Capacity
Florida law begins from a strong presumption: adults are presumed to have testamentary capacity. Overcoming that presumption is, as the court put it, a “heavy” burden.
The legal standard itself is not demanding. A testator need only understand, in a general way:
• the nature and extent of his property,
• his relationship to those who would naturally benefit, and
• the practical effect of the will.
Importantly, capacity is measured at one moment in time: when the will is executed. Mental decline before or after that moment is legally irrelevant unless it bears directly on the testator’s condition at execution.
Reeves applies these principles strictly—and that is the point.
III. The Evidence That Actually Mattered
The personal representative did not rely on generalities. After extensive discovery, including more than eleven depositions, he moved for summary judgment with powerful, specific evidence:
• Testimony from the testator’s longtime general counsel, who met with him weekly and described detailed, coherent discussions about assets, business dealings, and estate planning.
• Evidence that the testator reviewed draft documents line-by-line, directed substantive revisions, and understood the consequences of disinheriting his grandson.
• Consistent testimony from multiple attorneys present at the signing that the testator was alert, engaged, and fully oriented.
This was not “checkbox” evidence. It was concrete, contemporaneous, and tied directly to the date of execution.
IV. Why the Medical Expert Was Not Enough
The contestant relied heavily on a geriatric psychiatrist who never examined the testator and based his opinions solely on medical records from hospitalizations before and after the will signing. The expert opined that the testator suffered from dementia and delirium during the relevant period and therefore lacked capacity.
The court assumed—generously—that this opinion was true. Even then, it failed.
Why? Because Florida law recognizes lucid intervals. A diagnosis of dementia, even a serious one, does not establish incapacity at a specific moment. To defeat summary judgment, the expert needed to explain why the testator could not have experienced the lucid intervals described in detail by multiple eyewitnesses.
That analytical gap was fatal. Possibility is not proof. Speculation does not create a genuine issue of material fact.
V. Summary Judgment After the 2021 Rule Change
Reeves is also a reminder that Florida’s modern summary-judgment standard is real. Courts now evaluate whether the evidence could actually meet the contestant’s burden at trial. If it cannot, the case ends.
This matters enormously in probate litigation. Will contests are expensive, intrusive, and emotionally draining. Reeves confirms that courts will not allow them to proceed merely because the testator was elderly, ill, or unpopular with a disappointed heir.
VI. Practical Takeaways for Clients and Referring Counsel
For beneficiaries and personal representatives:
• Strong contemporaneous attorney testimony is often decisive.
• Careful estate-planning process matters as much as the documents themselves.
• Well-developed records can end litigation early.
For potential contestants:
• Medical diagnoses alone are insufficient.
• Experts must engage directly with the concept of lucid intervals.
• These cases rise or fall on precision, not outrage.
For lawyers evaluating these disputes:
• Reeves is a roadmap for both prosecution and defense.
• Weak capacity cases should be identified early—before sunk costs take over.
• Sophisticated probate litigation requires disciplined evidence analysis, not just sympathetic facts.
VII. Conclusion
Reeves v. Gross is not just another affirmance. It is a clear signal that Florida courts will enforce the presumption of testamentary capacity and apply modern summary-judgment principles rigorously—even in emotionally charged family disputes.
For clients, it underscores the value of experienced counsel who understand how these cases are actually decided, not how they sound at cocktail parties. And for referring attorneys, it highlights the difference between a plausible story and a provable case.
In probate litigation, judgment matters. Evidence matters more.

