Then he said something that mattered more. You ever remove it? Nope. Good, he said again. Because if this wall disappears, that slope fails. How fast? He tilted his head toward the sky. When the rain shows up in Oregon, rain always shows up. I hired him to write a formal report. Cost me $3,200. A week later, I had a professional engineering document that basically said in very polite technical language, “If the retaining wall is removed, slope failure is highly likely, resulting in soil movement toward the downhill properties.” In
plain English, the hill would slide. I copied the report, attached the survey, the permit paperwork, and wrote Vanessa a short letter. I kept the tone respectful, explained the engineering assessment, pointed out that the structure was on my land and legally permitted. Then I added one simple sentence.
If the wall is removed, the hillside may collapse onto the lower properties. I mailed the packet certified. Figured that would be the end of it. Two weeks passed. Then another letter showed up. This one came from a law office in Portland. The message was short and very lawyerish. Your retaining wall remains non-compliant with HOA aesthetic standards.
The association requests its removal within 30 days. At the bottom, there was a line that stuck with me. Property ownership does not exempt residents from community design rules. I stared at that sentence for a long time. Then I called my attorney. His name’s Greg Foster. Good guy. Dry sense of humor.
The kind of lawyer who looks like he’d rather be fishing. I dropped the paperwork on his desk. He read through everything slowly, occasionally making little noises like, “Huh?” And, “Well, that’s interesting.” Finally, he leaned back in his chair. So, he said, “They want the wall gone.” Apparently, you warn them. Sent the engineer report. He nodded again.
