ROANOKE TIMES  
                      Copyright (c) 1997, Roanoke Times

DATE: Monday, April 7, 1997                  TAG: 9704070015
SECTION: NATIONAL/INTERNATIONAL   PAGE: A-1  EDITION: METRO  
SOURCE: DAVID REED ASSOCIATED PRESS
MEMO: ***CORRECTION***
      Published correction ran on April 8, 1997.
         The last lines of an Associated Press story about David Reed's 
      dispute with the IRS were omitted in Monday's paper. The article should 
      have ended as follows: 
         It's possible that the IRS office in Philadelphia will hold its 
      ground, but we can file an appeal if it does, he said. Then he tried to 
      reassure me:
         ``I can't imagine they would.''


TAX COLLECTION AGENCY REJECTS DEDUCTION FOR 8-YEAR-OLD, DEMANDS PAYMENT HONEY, THE IRS LOST OUR KID

The Internal Revenue Service denies the existence of the Roanoke-based reporter's son, even after the local tax man actually pinched the boy's arm. The IRS has threatened to seize paychecks, a bank account and more because Reed and his wife claimed the boy as a dependent.

The Internal Revenue Service insists my son doesn't exist, and my paycheck may be seized because my wife and I owe $838.40 for claiming him as a dependent. Plus interest and penalty.

Try explaining that to an 8-year-old.

``Does that mean I have to go to an orphanage or something?'' he asked.

At first, it was humorous nonsense.

Back in August, the IRS said we had to either pay up or prove that our son was not just a ruse to get a tax break.

I eventually learned that many parents around the country - mistakenly identified targets of an IRS crackdown on fraud - have received letters challenging the existence of their children.

At the agency's request, our tax preparer mailed the IRS copies of his birth certificate, Social Security number, school records and medical records, and a letter explaining the IRS mistake.

My wife and I thought nothing more about it - until the threatening letters started arriving.

``URGENT!'' the latest letter blared. ``Immediate action is required. We have made several attempts to collect the tax you owe, but we still have not received your full payment. If you do not respond, we may seize your paycheck, bank account, auto or other property.''

This was pretty shocking stuff, and our tax preparer was unable to fix the problem with telephone calls to IRS service centers.

So I decided to bring Exhibit A into the regional IRS office.

My son didn't mind the trip to the 12-story federal building in Roanoke. He got to skip school for a few hours, and he was deep into his latest Star Wars book, ``Young Jedi Knights.'' And he thought it was cool when they X-rayed his backpack in the lobby.

``I have an unusual situation,'' I told the taxpayer service specialist as we sat across from him at his desk.

``We assume that's the case this time of year,'' Mike Spears said cheerfully.

The tax man is lean, with the posture of a two-by-four. He wore a blue button-down dress shirt with a muted tie, and he clicked a mechanical pencil to get the lead ready to fill out forms. But the person I thought would be a stiff bureaucrat had an engaging smile and nonchalance that made me think this wasn't going to be too bad.

After explaining the situation, Spears reached over and gently pinched my boy's arm. ``Yeah, he's here all right.''

The diagnosis was surprisingly quick and painless.

``We're going to do an amended return since the tax is already assessed,'' Spears said. ``Let me see [his] Social Security card. We're going to get you back on the planet, here.''

As he put the card in a nearby copy machine, Spears matter-of-factly told a curious colleague, ``It's a kid that doesn't exist.''

He also made copies of my son's birth certificate, report card and the picture of his entire second grade.

The tax man finally finished filling out the 1040X form and informed me that the IRS actually owes me money - $10.

``So, how did this happen?'' I said.

Spears said the IRS questioned about 1million taxpayers who sought to claim their children as dependents, and many of the challenges in Southwest Virginia were unfounded. ``It was like out of the blue,'' he said. ``We've had 300 or 400 in this office.''

Most get resolved quickly, Spears said. My response apparently fell through the cracks at the Philadelphia service center.

``Nobody worked on it, and the computer has been told by programmers to issue another bill because it doesn't know any better,'' Spears said.

Diane Stover, my tax preparer, said, ``It's not like they couldn't pull up past returns and see that he's been claimed as a dependent since 1989. Duh. It defies reason.''

In 1995, the IRS spread the word that examiners would closely check returns to make sure people were entitled to claim dependents, agency spokesman Frank Keith said.

The warning was successful, he said: ``There were 1.5 million fewer dependents listed on tax returns that were filed last year.''

But in Washington, the Clinton administration and Congress are looking into ways to overhaul the IRS, which has come under unprecedented criticism for a botched computer upgrade and poor service.

Back in Roanoke, the case of my allegedly phantom child remains unresolved.

Spears sent a message to Philadelphia via computer that asked the office to stop sending menacing letters and not seize my paycheck for nine weeks, the longest delay he is allowed to authorize.


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by CNB