Full transcript
0:00When a power-tripping HOA president
0:02decides you don't belong in her pristine
0:04neighborhood, she might try to tow your
0:06car or fine you. But Brielle? Brielle
0:10hired an excavator and dug three massive
0:13trenches across my only access road.
0:16She thought she buried me. Instead, she
0:18unearthed a $2.6 million catastrophe
0:22that wiped her HOA off the map. My name
0:25is Dobby Bailey.
0:27Back in 2017,
0:29long before the suburban sprawl
0:31swallowed the foothills of the Cascade
0:33Mountains in Washington state,
0:35I bought a 12-acre parcel of heavily
0:37wooded land. It was quiet, secluded, and
0:41exactly what I wanted. The property is
0:43what real estate agents call a flag lot.
0:46The bulk of my acreage sits set back
0:49from the county highway, connected to
0:51the public road by a long 30-ft wide
0:53panhandle of land. That panhandle is my
0:56driveway, a quarter-mile stretch of
0:59packed gravel known on county maps as
1:01Bailey Lane. I own it in fee simple.
1:04It's not an easement. It's not shared. I
1:07own the dirt, the rocks, and the
1:09airspace above it. For 4 years, my only
1:12neighbors were the deer and the
1:14occasional black bear. [clears throat]
1:16Then, in 2021, a massive development
1:19company bought the 200 acres of open
1:22pasture bordering my property line.
1:24Within 18 months, the quiet pasture was
1:27transformed into Cedar Ridge Estates, a
1:30sprawling hyper-manicured neighborhood
1:32of 150 identical McMansions complete
1:36with a heavily enforced homeowners
1:37association. Unfortunately for me, the
1:41developers of Cedar Ridge had laid out
1:43their neighborhood so that their
1:45pristine paved entry boulevard ran
1:48perfectly parallel to my dusty gravel
1:50road. Only a narrow strip of grass
1:52separated my driveway from their grand
1:54entrance. That's when I met Brielle
1:57Edwards. Breille was the first elected
1:59president of the Cedar Ridge HOA.
2:02She was a woman who treated her
2:04volunteer neighborhood board position
2:06like a seat on the UN Security Council.
2:09She drove a pristine white Range Rover,
2:11had a perfectly quaffed blonde bob, and
2:14seemed to possess a supernatural ability
2:16to detect an unapproved paint color from
2:18three blocks away. Our first interaction
2:21happened about a month after she moved
2:22in.
2:24I was driving down my gravel road in my
2:26muddy 2008 Ford F-150
2:30when I saw Breille standing dead center
2:32in my path holding a clipboard. I slowed
2:35to a halt and rolled down my window. Can
2:38I help you? I asked. You need to slow
2:41down, Breille snapped, not even
2:43bothering to introduce herself.
2:46The speed limit in Cedar Ridge is 15 mph
2:49and your truck is kicking up dust onto
2:51our landscaping. I blinked, genuinely
2:54confused for a second.
2:56Ma'am, I don't live in Cedar Ridge. This
2:58is my private driveway. The county
3:01highway is a quarter mile that way. She
3:03narrowed her eyes scanning my worn
3:06flannel and my dirty truck.
3:09This road is an eyesore.
3:11It completely ruins the aesthetic of our
3:13front entrance. As the HOA president, I
3:17am formally requesting that you pave
3:19this road by the end of the month or we
3:21will be forced to levy fines. I actually
3:24laughed. I couldn't help it. You can't
3:27fine me. I'm not in your HOA. Have a
3:30good day, Breille. I tipped my hat,
3:32carefully steered around her, and drove
3:35home. I thought [clears throat] that
3:36would be the end of it. I was wrong. It
3:39was a declaration of war. Over the next
3:41six months, Breille made it her personal
3:43mission to force me into submission.
3:46First came the letters. I started
3:48receiving official Cedar Ridge HOA
3:51stationery in my mailbox demanding
3:54payment for aesthetic non-compliance and
3:56unauthorized use of heavy machinery.
3:59I had a cord of firewood delivered. I
4:01used the letters as kindling for my wood
4:03stove. Then, she escalated.
4:07I woke up one morning to find a local
4:09towing company hooking up my brother's
4:11sedan, which was parked completely on my
4:13gravel road while he was visiting. I
4:16sprinted outside, title in hand, and had
4:18to physically stand between the tow
4:20truck and the car until the driver
4:22called his dispatcher. Once I proved it
4:24was private property and the HOA had no
4:27jurisdiction, the tow driver dropped the
4:29car and cursed Brielle out over the
4:31phone for lying to them. Furious that
4:33her towing scheme failed, Brielle began
4:36telling the neighborhood that Bailey
4:38Lane was actually HOA property and that
4:41I was a squatter who had bullied my way
4:43into using it. To shut down her
4:45narrative permanently, I hired Tom
4:47Peterson, a veteran local surveyor. Tom
4:50spent a whole Tuesday out there with his
4:52equipment, pulling county plats and
4:54measuring coordinates. By the end of the
4:56day, he had driven bright pink wooden
4:59stakes into the ground every 50 ft,
5:01marking the exact boundary line. The
5:04stakes proved exactly what I already
5:06knew. My 30-ft strip of land was mine.
5:10In fact, Cedar Ridge's fancy brick
5:12entrance sign was actually encroaching
5:15onto my property by about 8 in.
5:17Brielle drove up while Tom was pounding
5:20in the final stake near the highway. She
5:22threw her Range Rover into park, stomped
5:25over, and began screaming, "What are you
5:27doing? You can't put those ugly stakes
5:29on our property." She yelled. "It's not
5:32your property, ma'am." Tom said calmly,
5:35wiping sweat from his forehead. "I'm a
5:37licensed surveyor. This is Mr. Bailey's
5:39land." Without hesitating, Brielle
5:42reached down, grabbed the pink stake,
5:44and yanked it out of the dirt, throwing
5:46it into the grass. Tom's face went
5:49deadpan.
5:50"Ma'am, moving or destroying a
5:52surveyor's marker is a class C felony in
5:54Washington state. Do it again, and I'll
5:57call the sheriff myself." Brielle turned
6:00purple, muttered something about
6:02lawyers, and sped off. I thought the
6:05survey would finally force her to back
6:06down. I assumed she would realize she
6:09had no legal leg to stand on, but I
6:11underestimated the terrifying
6:13combination of unlimited arrogance and
6:16profound ignorance.
6:18Brielle didn't see the survey as a legal
6:20boundary. She saw it as a challenge.
6:23Things went eerily quiet for the rest of
6:25the summer.
6:27No letters, no confrontations,
6:30no Brielle glaring at me from the
6:32property line.
6:33I should have known it was the calm
6:35before the storm. Labor Day weekend of
6:382024
6:39arrived,
6:41and I took the opportunity to go on a
6:43four-day fishing trip to the coast with
6:45a couple of buddies. I locked up the
6:47house, waved to my nearest neighbor
6:49through the trees, and drove off early
6:51Friday morning. I returned late Monday
6:53night. It was just past 11:00 p.m.,
6:57pitch black, and pouring rain, a classic
6:59Pacific Northwest autumn downpour. I
7:02turned off the county highway onto
7:04Bailey Lane, my headlights cutting
7:06through the sheets of rain. About 50
7:09yards down the gravel, my high beams hit
7:11a massive mound of dirt spanning the
7:14entire width of my road. I slammed on
7:16the brakes, the truck fishtailing
7:18slightly in the wet gravel before coming
7:20to a halt. I grabbed my Maglite from the
7:23center console, threw on my rain jacket,
7:26and stepped out into the deluge. As I
7:28walked up to the mound of dirt, my
7:30stomach dropped. It wasn't just a pile
7:32of dirt. Someone had taken a heavy-duty
7:35excavator and dug a trench completely
7:38across my road. It was at least 4 ft
7:41wide and 5 ft deep, effectively turning
7:44my driveway into a moat. The dirt and
7:46gravel had been piled up on the HOA's
7:48side of the property line. Stunned, I
7:51climbed over the muddy berm on foot and
7:53kept walking.
7:5450 yd later, I found a second trench
7:57identical to the first. And 50 yd after
8:00that, a third. My quarter-mile road had
8:03been completely severed in three places.
8:06I was physically blocked from reaching
8:08my own home with my vehicle. I walked
8:10the rest of the way to my house in the
8:12freezing rain, my mind racing with a mix
8:15of fury and disbelief. I knew exactly
8:18who had done this. The audacity of it
8:20was breathtaking. Brielle hadn't just
8:22trespassed. She had essentially laid
8:25siege to my property. I barely slept
8:28that night.
8:29At 6:00 a.m. on Tuesday,
8:32I was on the phone with the county
8:33sheriff's dispatch. By 7:30 a.m., Deputy
8:37Greg Higgins pulled up to the first
8:39trench, his cruiser lights flashing in
8:41the gray morning mist. I walked down
8:44from my house to meet him. While Deputy
8:46Higgins was shining his flashlight into
8:48the muddy abyss, taking notes, a
8:50familiar white Range Rover pulled up on
8:52the Cedar Ridge side of the grass.
8:54Brielle Edwards stepped out, holding an
8:57umbrella and looking impossibly smug.
9:00She was flanked by a tall, balding man
9:02in a windbreaker, Radford Abbott, the
9:05HOA vice president. "Is there a problem,
9:07officer?" Brielle asked, using her best
9:10innocent citizen voice. "Do you know
9:13anything about these trenches, ma'am?"
9:15Deputy Higgins asked, gesturing to the
9:17destruction. "Oh, absolutely." Brielle
9:20smiled. "The HOA board voted on a
9:23critical drainage improvement project
9:25last week. Water from this squatter's
9:28dirt path was causing runoff issues for
9:31our landscaping. We hired a private
9:33contractor to install drainage culverts.
9:36We sent Mr. Bailey a notice. It's not a
9:38dirt path, Brielle. It's my deeded
9:41property, I said, my voice shaking with
9:44anger.
9:45And you didn't send me a notice. You
9:47hired a digger on a holiday weekend
9:49while I was out of town to destroy my
9:51road. The survey stakes were clearly
9:53wrong, Radford Abbott chimed in,
9:56crossing his arms.
9:57Our HOA maps show this strip belongs to
10:00Cedar Ridge.
10:02We were well within our rights to
10:04mitigate a nuisance. I looked at Deputy
10:06Higgins. I have the deed. I have the
10:09certified survey. I want them arrested
10:12for destruction of private property.
10:15Deputy Higgins sighed, looking between
10:17me, Brielle, and the trenches.
10:19Look, Mr. Bailey, I believe you, but
10:22without a judge's order establishing the
10:24property line, and since they're
10:26claiming an HOA boundary dispute, my
10:29hands are tied. This is a civil matter.
10:32I can't arrest her for a property line
10:34disagreement. You need to call a lawyer.
10:37Brielle's smile grew so wide, I thought
10:39her face would crack.
10:41If you need access to your little cabin,
10:44Dobby, the HOA board might be willing to
10:46grant you a temporary footbridge, for a
10:49daily access fee, of course, until you
10:52decide to pave it and sign it over to
10:54us. She was practically glowing with
10:56triumph. She thought she had won. She
10:59thought she had used a legal gray area
11:01to strong-arm me into surrendering my
11:03land, betting that I wouldn't have the
11:05tens of thousands of dollars required to
11:07fight her in civil court. And for about
11:093 minutes, I thought she was right. I
11:12felt completely helpless. Deputy Higgins
11:14got back in his cruiser, apologizing
11:17again, and drove away. Brielle and
11:19Radford lingered by the edge of the
11:21trench, chatting and laughing, clearly
11:24reveling in my misery. I turned away
11:26from them and walked over to the edge of
11:28the third trench, the one closest to my
11:30house.
11:31The rain had washed away some of the
11:33loose dirt overnight, leaving the sides
11:35of the excavation smooth. I stared down
11:38into the 5-ft pit. At the bottom,
11:40something caught my eye. It wasn't just
11:43mud and rocks. I slid down into the
11:45trench, my boots sinking into the muck.
11:48I crouched down and brushed away a clump
11:50of heavy clay. My breath caught in my
11:52throat. The excavator teeth hadn't just
11:55scooped out dirt. They had shattered a
11:57thick, heavy-duty concrete casing.
12:00Inside the shattered concrete,
12:02completely severed by the violent force
12:05of the backhoe, was a bundle of thick,
12:07black, heavily insulated conduits. And
12:10wrapped around those severed cables,
12:13gleaming through the mud, was a bright,
12:15neon orange warning tape. I wiped the
12:18mud off the tape. The bold, black
12:20letters read, "Warning, regional
12:23high-capacity fiber optic trunk. Do not
12:26dig. Call 811." I froze. A memory
12:31suddenly slammed into me. When I bought
12:33the property in 2017, the title company
12:36had handed me a stack of paperwork 2 in
12:38thick. One of the documents I had
12:40briefly skimmed was a subterranean
12:42utility easement granted by the previous
12:45owner back in the late 1990s during the
12:48Pacific Northwest tech boom. Because
12:50Bailey Lane was a straight,
12:52uninterrupted line directly connecting
12:54to the county highway, a massive
12:56regional telecom conglomerate had paid
12:58the previous owner for the right to bury
13:00a primary fiber optic backbone directly
13:03under my gravel road. It was the main
13:06data artery connecting two major
13:08counties and a regional data center.
13:10Brielle's illegal, off-the-books
13:13midnight contractor hadn't called 811
13:17for a utility locate.
13:19They hadn't checked city plans.
13:22They just dug. And in doing so, they had
13:25violently severed a major regional data
13:27trunk line. I looked up from the trench.
13:30Brealle and Radford were still standing
13:32on the grass looking down at me like I
13:35was a peasant playing in the mud. Find a
13:37gold mine down there, Dobby. Brealle
13:39mocked laughing. I slowly climbed out of
13:42the trench covered in mud and pulled my
13:45cell phone from my pocket.
13:48Miraculously, I still had a cell signal
13:50from a different carrier's tower. I
13:52looked Brealle dead in the eyes. I
13:55wasn't angry anymore. I felt an
13:57overwhelming sense of calm. No, Brealle.
14:00I said softly. I didn't find gold, but
14:03you just bought yourself the most
14:05expensive pile of dirt in the history of
14:07Washington state. I dialed the emergency
14:09811 utility strike hotline and as the
14:13operator picked up, I smiled.
14:16Brealle's smug expression finally began
14:18to crack. She didn't know it yet, but
14:20she had just dug the grave of the Cedar
14:22Ridge HOA. The emergency utility strike
14:25hotline operator didn't put me on hold.
14:28The moment I said the words severed high
14:30capacity regional fiber optic trunk, the
14:33tone of the call shifted from routine
14:35customer service to Defcon 1. She asked
14:38for my GPS coordinates, told me to stay
14:41exactly where I was and warned me to
14:43keep everyone away from the trench in
14:45case there were secondary live
14:46electrical lines compromised in the mud.
14:49I hung up, climbed back up to my gravel
14:52road and leaned against the hood of my
14:54truck.
14:55The rain was still coming down in
14:57sheets. Brealle and Radford had
15:00retreated to the dry warmth of her Range
15:02Rover parked just on the other side of
15:04the property line. They were watching me
15:06through the rain streaked windshield
15:09probably wondering who I had called
15:11still cloaked in their absolute
15:13certainty that they had outsmarted me.
15:15They didn't have to wait long to find
15:17out. Less than 40 minutes later, the The
15:20wail of sirens cut through the heavy
15:22morning air,
15:23but it wasn't just one siren, it was a
15:25chorus of them growing louder and more
15:28frantic. First to arrive were two
15:30massive white utility trucks bearing the
15:32logo of Pacific Northwest Comlink, the
15:35regional telecom giant. They didn't park
15:38politely. They roared off the county
15:40highway, tearing up the wet grass of the
15:42Cedar Ridge entrance, and slammed into
15:44park inches from the first trench. Four
15:47men in high-visibility yellow slickers
15:49and hard hats leapt out carrying
15:51floodlights and diagnostic gear. Behind
15:54them came a local fire engine, followed
15:57closely by two Washington State Patrol
15:59cruisers. The quiet, wealthy enclave of
16:02Cedar Ridge Estates was suddenly lit up
16:05by a strobe show of red, blue, and amber
16:08flashing lights. Brielle threw her Range
16:10Rover door open and marched toward the
16:13flashing lights, her umbrella bouncing
16:15angrily.
16:16Radford trailed closely behind her
16:19looking significantly less confident.
16:21"Excuse me," Brielle shouted over the
16:24rumble of the idling diesel engines.
16:26"What is the meaning of this? You are
16:28destroying our sod. This is a private
16:31neighborhood." A state trooper, a tall
16:33man with a stern, weathered face,
16:35intercepted her.
16:37"Ma'am, step back. We have a massive
16:39infrastructure breach. Are you the
16:41property owner?" "I am the president of
16:44the Cedar Ridge Homeowners Association,"
16:47she declared, puffing out her chest.
16:50"And this is our landscaping project. If
16:53there's a broken pipe, our contractor
16:55will handle it. We certainly don't need
16:58the fire department tearing up our
16:59grass." One of the telecom engineers,
17:03who had practically sprinted to the
17:04trench nearest my house and shined a
17:061,000-lumen floodlight down into the
17:09mud, suddenly stood up and ripped off
17:11his hard hat. He was pale. "It's
17:14completely sheared," the engineer yelled
17:16to his foreman. All four bundles. It's a
17:19total catastrophic separation. No wonder
17:23the switchboards in Seattle are having a
17:25meltdown. The foreman, a burly guy
17:28holding a waterproof tablet, turned to
17:30Brielle and the trooper. "Ma'am, you
17:32said this was your project?" "Yes."
17:35Brielle sniffed, crossing her arms. "A
17:38drainage culvert. We hired an
17:40independent excavator to mitigate a
17:42nuisance." The foreman looked at her
17:44like she had just confessed to a murder.
17:46"Mitigate a nuisance? Lady, you just cut
17:49the primary fiber optic backbone for
17:51three counties. Right now, a regional
17:54hospital in Everett has lost its primary
17:56imaging data link. The 911 dispatch
18:00center in Snohomish County is operating
18:02on backup cellular relays, and about 40
18:05bank branches are completely offline.
18:07Did you call 811 before you dug?"
18:10Brielle's smug exterior finally cracked.
18:14Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.
18:17She looked at Radford,
18:19who suddenly seemed very interested
18:22in inspecting his own shoes. "Call who?"
18:25Brielle stammered.
18:26"It's private property. We don't need a
18:28permit to dig on our own HOA land.
18:31Actually, it's my land." I spoke up,
18:34stepping forward into the glow of the
18:36floodlights. "I'm Dobby Bailey. I own
18:39this driveway. The HOA trespassed and
18:42dug this without my knowledge while I
18:44was out of town. I have the certified
18:46survey and the property deed right here
18:48in my truck, along with the utility
18:50easement records." The state trooper
18:53turned his sharp gaze back to Brielle.
18:56"Is that true?
18:57You ordered an excavation on land that
18:59wasn't legally verified as yours without
19:02utility locates?" Before Brielle could
19:05formulate a lie, a beat-up, rusted
19:08flatbed truck towing a small Bobcat
19:10excavator rattled down the highway and
19:13pulled off onto the grass. A man in
19:16grease-stained overalls hopped out,
19:19completely oblivious to the gravity of
19:21the situation. "Hey, [clears throat]
19:22Brielle!" the man yelled, waving a
19:25clipboard. "Gary Miller here. Came to
19:27finish up the dirt work. Cash envelope
19:29ready like we talked about?" The silence
19:32that followed was deafening, broken only
19:34by the hum of the fire engine. Gary
19:37Miller had just publicly confirmed it
19:39was an unlicensed, under-the-table cash
19:41job. The state trooper didn't hesitate.
19:44He walked over to Gary, asked for his
19:46commercial operating license, which Gary
19:48didn't have, and then asked who told him
19:50to dig. Gary immediately pointed a
19:53greasy finger at Brielle.
19:55"She did, officer. Said she was the HOA
19:58president and it was her land.
20:01Said I didn't need to call 811 because
20:03they already knew there were no pipes
20:05down there." By noon, the scene had
20:08escalated into a full-blown federal
20:10incident. Because the severed line
20:12disrupted interstate banking
20:14transactions and federal emergency
20:16services, representatives from the FCC
20:19and state utility regulators had been
20:21dispatched. My quiet gravel driveway
20:24looked like a disaster relief zone.
20:26Brielle and Radford were heavily
20:28questioned by the authorities. No
20:30handcuffs were slapped on that day as
20:33the immediate priority was restoring the
20:35data link, but they were given strict
20:37orders not to leave the county. As I sat
20:40on my porch drinking a hot cup of
20:42coffee, watching a team of 20
20:44technicians working frantically in the
20:46mud, I saw Brielle slink back to her
20:49Range Rover. The arrogant, untouchable
20:52HOA tyrant was gone, replaced by a
20:55terrified woman realizing the
20:57catastrophic scale of her hubris. But
20:59the real nightmare for the Cedar Ridge
21:01HOA hadn't even begun. The repair crews
21:05worked around the clock for four
21:06straight days. They had to widen the
21:09trenches, install massive concrete
21:11vaults, and painstakingly splice
21:14thousands of individual fiber optic
21:16strands by hand in sterilized
21:18climate-controlled tents erected right
21:21on my driveway. During this time, the
21:24true cost of Breel's drainage project
21:26began to materialize, and it was
21:29apocalyptic. Pacific Northwest Comlink
21:31wasn't just a local utility.
21:34They were a massive corporation with a
21:36legal team that resembled a small army.
21:39Three weeks after the incident, the
21:41Cedar Ridge Homeowners Association was
21:43served with a lawsuit and an itemized
21:46demand for damages. Because the trench
21:48was dug on my property, the utility
21:50company initially named me in the suit.
21:52However, my lawyer simply provided them
21:55with the police report, Gary Miller's
21:58recorded statement, and my airtight
22:00alibi of being on a fishing trip. I was
22:03immediately dropped from the suit and
22:05redesignated as the primary witness for
22:07the plaintiff. The HOA, however, was in
22:10the crosshairs. The itemized damages
22:13were staggering. First was the physical
22:15repair cost, mobilizing emergency crews,
22:19specialized equipment, the custom
22:21splicing, and the new concrete vaults
22:24came out to $412,000.
22:27But that was just the beginning. The
22:29telecom company had strict service level
22:32agreements, SLAs, with their commercial
22:34clients. When hospitals, government
22:37agencies, and banking institutions lost
22:39their data feeds, Pacific Northwest
22:42Comlink had to pay massive contractual
22:44penalties for the downtime.
22:46The outage lasted 94 hours. The SLA
22:50penalties alone totaled $1.8 million.
22:54Add in environmental remediation, lost
22:57revenue, and punitive legal fees, and
23:00the grand total landed on the HOA's desk
23:03with a resounding thud. $2,640,000.
23:07Breelle,
23:10in a state of sheer panic, immediately
23:13filed a claim with the HOA's master
23:15insurance policy,
23:17assuming the neighborhood's
23:18multi-million dollar liability umbrella
23:20would cover it. The insurance company's
23:22response arrived via certified mail 4
23:25days later.
23:27It was a flat, unequivocal denial.
23:30Their adjusters pointed out that the
23:32policy covered accidental damage and
23:34negligence on HOA property. It
23:37explicitly excluded coverage for
23:39intentional illegal acts, criminal
23:41trespassing, and unlicensed excavations.
23:45Because Breelle had bypassed 811,
23:48hired an unlicensed contractor under the
23:50table, and ordered the digging on
23:52property she did not legally own, the
23:55insurance company washed their hands of
23:57the entire mess. The $2.6 million debt
24:01fell directly, heavily, and inescapably
24:04onto the shoulders of the Cedar Ridge
24:06Homeowners Association. The emergency
24:09neighborhood meeting held the following
24:10Tuesday in the local middle school
24:12gymnasium was the stuff of local legend.
24:15I wasn't an HOA member, so I couldn't
24:18attend, but my friendly neighbor in the
24:20trees recorded the whole thing on his
24:22phone for me. There were 150 homes in
24:25Cedar Ridge. To keep the HOA from going
24:28immediately bankrupt and facing a
24:30court-ordered liquidation of common
24:32assets, the board had to levy a special
24:34assessment. When Radford Abbott,
24:36trembling at the podium, Breelle had
24:38conveniently called in sick and didn't
24:40attend, announced that every single
24:42household in Cedar Ridge would be hit
24:44with an immediate non-negotiable special
24:47assessment of $17,600
24:50to cover the utility lawsuit, the
24:52gymnasium erupted. People were
24:54screaming. A man in the front row threw
24:57a folding chair. Mothers were crying.
25:00Neighbors were shouting for Brielle's
25:02head on a spike. It was a complete
25:04suburban riot. The fallout was swift and
25:07merciless. Within a week, Brielle
25:09Edwards was ousted from the presidency
25:12in a unanimous emergency recall vote.
25:15But losing her petty crown was the least
25:17of her worries. Dozens of homeowners
25:20banded together and filed a class action
25:22civil suit against Brielle personally,
25:25seeking to hold her liable for their
25:27$17,600
25:30assessments, arguing she acted outside
25:33her fiduciary duty and authority.
25:35Furthermore, the county prosecutor
25:37officially charged Brielle Edwards and
25:39Gary Miller with felony destruction of
25:42property, criminal trespass, and gross
25:45misdemeanor utility tampering. Brielle's
25:47pristine white Range Rover disappeared
25:50from the neighborhood.
25:51Rumor had it she had to sell it to pay
25:53her initial legal retainers. Her
25:56perfectly manicured house went on the
25:58market shortly after, listed well below
26:00market value, as the pending lawsuits
26:03and massive HOA debt made the property
26:06practically radioactive to new buyers.
26:09She moved away in absolute disgrace. Her
26:12life ruined by her own insatiable need
26:14to control a 30-ft strip of gravel. As
26:17for me, the universe has a funny way of
26:19balancing the scales. Because Pacific
26:22Northwest Commlink had utterly destroyed
26:24my driveway to fix their line, they were
26:27legally obligated to restore it to its
26:29original condition. When their corporate
26:32liaison visited me to sign the final
26:34restoration paperwork, he looked at my
26:36muddy, destroyed road and sighed. "Mr.
26:39Bailey, getting gravel trucks in here to
26:42regrade and pack this quarter mile is
26:44going to be a logistical nightmare for
26:47our heavy equipment," he said. "If you
26:49sign a waiver releasing us from any
26:51future nuisance claims regarding this
26:53incident, I'll just have our commercial
26:55paving crew asphalt the whole thing.
26:58It's cheaper and faster for us." I
27:01smiled, picked up his pen, and signed
27:04the paper. Today, Bailey Lane isn't a
27:07dusty gravel track anymore. It's a
27:09beautifully smooth, fully paved,
27:12quarter-mile asphalt driveway paid for
27:15entirely by the utility company.
27:17Sometimes, I sit on my porch with a cup
27:19of coffee and watch the cars drive past
27:22the Cedar Ridge entrance. The
27:23neighborhood's pristine aesthetic is
27:25slightly ruined now by the massive for
27:27sale signs dotting the lawns.
27:30Victims of the crushing HOA fees. I take
27:33a sip of my coffee, look at my perfectly
27:36paved, completely private road, and
27:38smile. Brielle wanted me to pave it.
27:41I guess, in a roundabout way, she got
27:44exactly what she asked for. What a
27:46disaster. Brielle thought she was
27:48untouchable, but her arrogance cost an
27:51entire neighborhood $2.6 million
27:54and landed her in court. It just goes to
27:56show, never mess with someone's private
27:58property, and always call before you
28:01dig. If you love this wild story of
28:03instant karma and HOA justice, smash
28:06that like button, share it with a friend
28:09who hates bad HOAs, and make sure to
28:11subscribe for more insane real-life
28:14stories.