Hecker soap opera has a missing piece

In a week of irresistible dish -- Letterman and his girlfriends, Levi posing for Playgirl -- the Denny and Tamitha Hecker divorce still rocks in the you-can't-make-this-stuff-up category.

Facelifts and maids, swimming pools (plural) and a tennis court (clay), mega-cash stashed in the car, a boy-toy out West, and a girlfriend popping up on a family vacation -- it's a script that makes it easy for us to feel smug; to say, "Those people aren't anything like us."

In one way, though, they are.

While I feel the you've-got-to-be-kidding-me winds blowing my way, I'm going to suggest that we add the lone element missing from this saga of overindulgence and bad judgment: empathy.

I don't know the Heckers. The closest I've gotten to him was slamming on my brakes to avoid hitting an MTC bus emblazoned with his picture. I have 13 bucks and a $1 off Caribou coupon in my wallet. I have no heroic fantasies of rescuing their fancy fishies, and I don't play tennis.

But I've been divorced, and have written about the subject extensively. I can tell you that no amount of money can buy you out of what one smart therapist calls "Crazy Time."

Briefly, Crazy Time is when you get to see you as your worst self possible. Most of us are incredibly lucky that we don't have to be crazy in front of the immediate world.

I doubt the Heckers started out that way. Like many couples, they had been moving toward divorce for some time. Because of their considerable wealth, they did a smart thing nine years ago: They crafted a post-nuptial agreement, specifying how their property should be distributed in the event of death, separation or divorce.

Of course they did it to protect their opulent, and increasingly separate, lifestyles. But a post-nup also is designed to minimize the ugliness and cost of divorce litigation.

Best-laid plans go awry

Now they're starring in a painfully public courtroom drama. What happened?

Divorce lawyers I spoke with are shaking their heads. Most divorces of the richest among us are done well under the radar, they say. Files are sealed. Attorneys don't talk to the media.

Some lawyers think Hennepin County District Judge Jay Quam may have been reluctant to seal the file on a case already so public, due to Denny's financial woes. Others say Denny's new lawyer, Bill Skolnick, enjoys the media spotlight, maybe a tad too much.

Maybe the couple have grown too crazy to care.

"When people have this warfare mentality, they want to make the other's life a living hell," said Jeanette Frederickson, a Minneapolis lawyer and mediator in practice for 25 years. "We've offered deals that were not just fair, but generous. But the other person wanted a pound of flesh. They wanted the fight and the hope of public embarrassment for the opposing party. It's a mentality that's hard to deal with."

Jonathan Fogel agrees. "The person without the power usually becomes more aggressive, and the other person is forced to respond," said Fogel, a Minneapolis attorney and the host of FM107's weekly "Family Affairs" program.

"It keeps deteriorating," Fogel said. "You try to level that playing field so both parties can negotiate, but sometimes our clients don't act the way attorneys want them to."

Admittedly, some fight-to-the-finish attorneys don't act the way collaboration-inclined divorcing couples wish they would, either.

Regardless, the humiliating details of this spectacular breakup are forever public. Not only did mega-money not save them, it did them in. So it's understandable to feel smug. It's harder to feel empathy, but here's why I hope you'll consider it. Their kids need you to. One of them is a 14-year-old who has to walk into his high school every single day. Remember high school?

Here's what else I know about Crazy Time. It ends. People can find their way back to their best selves, or at least, their better selves. Their best chance, though, is if we all back off and give them room to breathe.

Seal the file, somebody. And let this family deal with their personal drama privately.

Gail Rosenblum • 612-673-7350 • gail.rosenblum@startribune.com