“I’m sure,” I said. “They made a decision about my property without asking me. Now I’m making a decision about theirs.”


The Letter That Started Everything
Patricia drafted the notice. Formal. Legal. Citing the damage, the violation, the clause that gave me the right to enforce consequences.
“This letter serves as formal notice of revocation of the easement granted to Cedar Ridge Estates HOA on March 15, 2019. Per Section 7(b) of the agreement, this revocation takes effect thirty days from the date of this notice due to material damage caused to the grantor’s property by actions authorized by the grantee.”
I hand-delivered it to the HOA president’s mailbox that evening. A man named Gordon Hale. Mid-fifties. Real estate developer. The kind of guy who wears polo shirts with his company logo and thinks volume equals authority.
Then I went home and waited.
The response came two days later—certified mail, return receipt requested, from the HOA’s attorney.
“Dear Mr. Morrison, We are in receipt of your notice of easement revocation dated [date]. While we acknowledge an unfortunate miscommunication regarding tree removal, we do not believe this constitutes grounds for revocation under the agreement. The trees in question were believed to be located on HOA property based on survey records. We request an immediate meeting to resolve this matter amicably.”
I called Patricia. “They’re calling it a miscommunication.”
“Of course they are. Did they offer to pay for the trees?”
“No. They want a meeting to ‘resolve it amicably.’”
“Do you want to meet with them?”
I thought about it. About my father planting those trees when I was eight years old. About Gordon Hale signing an authorization to cut them down because they blocked his members’ view of the valley. About the presumption that my land was just a resource for them to manage.
“No. The notice stands. Thirty days.”
The Escalation
The calls started on day ten.
Gordon Hale himself, his voice trying to project calm authority while clearly panicking underneath. “Eli, we need to talk about this. Let’s be reasonable here. Neighbors work things out.”
“I gave you notice. It’s legal. It’s final.”
“You can’t just cut off road access to an entire neighborhood. There are kids, elderly people, emergency services—”
“You cut down six trees on my property. Without asking. Without permission. Without notifying me.”