And then I waited. About 5 days later, a White County truck pulled up outside my house. Two inspectors stepped out, one younger, clipboard in hand. The other older, moving slower, but looking at everything like he’d seen every trick in the book. I met them in the yard. Morning. The younger one said, “We’re here about the complaint.
Figured you might be.” I walked them through it, showed them the markers, the stumps, the survey. They measured everything themselves. Quiet, professional, no small talk. The older inspector crouched near one of the stumps, ran his hand across the cut surface, then looked up at me. “These were healthy,” he said. “Yeah,” I replied. “They were.
They didn’t say much after that. Just nodded, made notes, took their own photos. Then we walked over to the tea box. Standing there, it was even more obvious. Without the trees, there was nothing stopping a ball from flying straight into my yard. No barrier, no buffer, just open space.” The younger inspector pointed down range.
So from here, he said a slice or hook could carry right over into that property. Exactly, I said. The older one didn’t even look surprised. He just sighed. Which is exactly why that buffer requirement exists. We stood there for a moment looking at the same line of sight the developers had been so eager to create. Clean, open, and now a problem.
They left without saying much else. But 2 days later, I got my answer. A notice was posted at the T- box. Stop. Use order. Until further notice, the structure could not be used. Just like that. Brand new construction shut down. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t walk out there that evening just to look at it. Not to gloat.
