I thought naively that this irrefutable proof of fraud would be the end of it. I expected a sheepish apology, a retraction. I underestimated her ego. Brenda’s response was to double down. At the next HOA meeting, which I attended as a concerned and amused observer, she held up my report and called it a campaign of harassment by a disgruntled local.
She waved her fraudulent map and declared, “This is our community. This is our lake. We will not be bullied.” The assembled homeowners, most of whom just wanted a nice place to live and were caught in her gravity, applauded dutifully. her enablers on the board, a collection of yesmen who were clearly intoxicated by their proximity to power, nodded in solemn agreement.
They voted to proceed with the construction of the recreation area immediately, and they did. The bulldozers arrived the following Monday. I filmed them from my porch as they crossed my property line, tearing up the earth, felling 100-year-old oak trees. I called the sheriff. When the deputy arrived, he was met by Brenda and the HOA’s slick lawyer.
They showed him their fraudulent map. I showed him my authentic survey. The deputy, a young guy just trying to do his job, was caught in the middle. He looked from one map to the other and said, “Sir, ma’am, this is a civil dispute. It’s a property line disagreement. You’ll have to take it to court.” Which is exactly what Brenda was counting on.
She knew litigation could take years and cost a fortune. She was betting I didn’t have the stomach or the resources to fight her corporate back machine. She was wrong again. I filed for an immediate injunction, but as she had planned, the court docket was backed up. The soonest we could get a hearing was 6 months away.
