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HOA Sold 800 Tickets to a Corn Maze on My Farm — I Harvested It Before Opening Day — Transcript

by HOA Karen Justice · 4,460 words · 675 segments · language en · Watch on YouTube

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0:00An entitled homeowners association
0:02thought they could annex my family's
0:04farm, carve a maze into my crops, and
0:07sell 800 tickets for a massive profit.
0:10They expected a picturesque autumn
0:12festival. What they got was 800 angry
0:14guests staring at a barren field of
0:17dirt. Here's how I destroyed them. My
0:20name is Caleb Mitchell, and my family
0:22has owned Mitchell Farms for three
0:24generations. We sit on 150 acres of
0:28prime agricultural land in what used to
0:30be a quiet rural county. But over the
0:33last decade, urban sprawl crept in like
0:35a slowmoving disease. 10 years ago, a
0:39massive real estate developer bought up
0:41the dense woodlands bordering my south
0:43field, bulldozed the trees, and erected
0:46Oak Creek Estates, a sprawling cookie
0:48cutter subdivision of gray houses,
0:51manicured lawns, and people who think
0:53food magically appears on grocery store
0:55shelves. With Oak Creek came their
0:58homeowners association. And with the HOA
1:01came Arthur Pendleton. Arthur was a
1:03retired mid-level manager who treated
1:05his position as HOA president like a
1:07totalitarian dictatorship. He was the
1:10kind of guy who wore pastel sweaters
1:12tied around his neck, carried a
1:14clipboard on his evening walks, and
1:16measured his neighbors grass with a
1:18literal ruler. From day one, Arthur
1:20hated my farm. Because we were zoned
1:23agricultural and predated the
1:25subdivision by 70 years, his HOA had
1:28absolutely zero jurisdiction over us.
1:31That didn't stop him from trying. For
1:33years, I dealt with his ridiculous
1:35complaints. He called the county to
1:38complain about the offensive odor when I
1:40spread fertilizer. He tried to get the
1:42sheriff to issue me noise violations for
1:44running my John Deere tractor at 600
1:48a.m. He even sent me a formal drafted
1:51cease and desist letter because the dust
1:54from my summer harvest was settling on
1:56his pristine white BMW.
1:58Every time the county laughed him out of
2:01the room. I was protected by right to
2:03farm laws and Arthur couldn't stand the
2:05fact that he couldn't control me. But
2:07last year, Arthur's obsession evolved
2:10from petty complaints into outright
2:12delusion. It started in late August. I
2:15was in the machine shed greasing the
2:17bearings on my combine when Arthur
2:20strolled up my driveway flanked by his
2:22HOA treasurer, a slick, overcolonged guy
2:25named Dylan Hayes. Caleb, Arthur
2:28announced, not bothering to say hello.
2:30We've come up with a brilliant
2:32initiative for the neighborhood, and
2:34you're going to be a part of it. I wiped
2:36my hands on a rag, already exhausted.
2:39I'm not in your neighborhood, Arthur,
2:41and I'm busy. Dylan stepped forward,
2:43flashing a blindingly white, expensive
2:46smile. We're hosting the first annual
2:48Oak Creek Fall Gala. We want to do a
2:50pumpkin patch, a petting zoo, and a corn
2:53maze. We've decided your southfield, the
2:56one right up against our property line,
2:58will be perfect for the maze. We've
3:00already mapped out a design. I stared at
3:02them, waiting for the punch line. When
3:04neither of them laughed, I pointed out
3:07toward the towering green stalks of my
3:09south field. First of all, that's dent
3:11corn. It's field corn grown for cattle
3:14feed, not sweet corn for tourists. The
3:17leaves are sharp, it's dirty, and it's
3:19sprayed with agricultural chemicals.
3:22Second, and more importantly, it's my
3:24crop. It's my livelihood. No, now,
3:27Caleb. Let's look at the big picture,
3:30Arthur said, his tone dripping with
3:32patronizing condescension. You have an
3:34eyesore of a property. We are offering
3:36to bring community engagement right to
3:38your doorstep. It will raise the
3:40prestige of the entire area. We'll even
3:43give you a 5% cut of the ticket sales as
3:46a token of goodwill for using your land.
3:48Get off my property before I call the
3:50sheriff," I said, dropping the rag. "If
3:53I see you or anyone from your little
3:55club anywhere near my corn, I will press
3:57charges for trespassing." They huffed,
4:00muttered something about my stubborn
4:02lack of community spirit, and left. I
4:05thought that was the end of it. I
4:07drastically underestimated their
4:09entitlement. Two weeks later, I walked
4:11into Jim Peterson's hardware store in
4:13town to pick up some hydraulic fluid.
4:16Right there on the community bulletin
4:18board was a massive glossy flyer. Join
4:21us for the Oak Creek Fall Gala and Corn
4:24Maze. It read, "Get lost in our
4:26spectacular, professionally designed
4:28maze. Opening October 15th. Tickets $25.
4:34VIP parking $10." Underneath the text
4:38was an aerial map. My stomach dropped.
4:41The map showed my southfield with a
4:43sprawling, intricate path drawn right
4:46through my crops, ending at the Oak
4:48Creek Neighborhood Park. I was furious.
4:51I tore the flyer off the wall and drove
4:53straight to the community center where
4:55the HOA was holding their monthly board
4:57meeting. I slammed the flyer down on the
5:00folding table right in front of Arthur.
5:02"What is this?" I demanded. The room of
5:05about 30 residents went dead silent.
5:08Arthur adjusted his glasses, looking
5:10completely unfazed. Ah, Caleb, glad you
5:14could join us. We're just going over the
5:16logistics for the gayla. Beatatrice here
5:18has volunteered to run the hot cocoa
5:20stand. Beatatrice Higgins, a notoriously
5:23nosy woman who had repeatedly complained
5:25about my roosters, beamed at me. "It's
5:28going to be lovely, Caleb. You are not
5:31using my farm," I shouted, slamming my
5:34hand on the table. "I told you no,
5:37Dylan. and Hayes leaned back in his
5:38chair, twirling a pen. Actually, Caleb,
5:42we found a zoning loophole. According to
5:44our community bylaws, the HOA reserves
5:47the right to utilize adjacent
5:49unlandscaped green space for temporary
5:52community enhancement if it serves the
5:54betterment of property values. Your
5:57bylaws mean absolutely nothing on my
5:59deed land, I retorted, my blood boiling.
6:02That's illegal. That's grand theft and
6:05trespassing. It's a gray area, Arthur
6:07said smoothly, a smug little smile
6:10playing on his lips. We've already
6:12consulted with our HOA attorney. By the
6:14time you file an injunction and get a
6:16court date to stop us, the festival will
6:19be over. We're proceeding, Caleb. It's
6:22for the greater good. Be reasonable. I
6:25looked around the room. These people
6:27actually believed they had a legal right
6:29to commandeer my property just because
6:31they voted on it in their little echo
6:33chamber. You touch my crops, I warned,
6:37my voice dropping to a low, dangerous
6:39register. And you will deeply regret it.
6:42Arthur chuckled. Have a good evening,
6:44Caleb. I spent the next week
6:46aggressively patrolling my property
6:48line. My wife Sarah thought I was making
6:51myself sick with stress, but I knew
6:53Arthur. He was arrogant enough to try
6:56and force my hand, assuming I'd just
6:58roll over and accept a measly 5% check
7:01once the event was over. The real
7:04disaster happened on a Tuesday. I had to
7:06drive three counties over to pick up a
7:08specialized replacement augur for my
7:10combine harvester. I was gone from dawn
7:12until late afternoon. When my truck
7:14tires crunched onto the gravel of my
7:16driveway, Sarah came running out of the
7:19house, looking frantic. Caleb, they did
7:22it. I tried to stop them, but they
7:24wouldn't listen. My heart hammered
7:26against my ribs. Who did what? Arthur.
7:29She breathed. He brought a landscaping
7:32crew. I didn't even go inside. I threw
7:35the truck in reverse and sped down the
7:37dirt access road toward the south field.
7:40When I arrived, the site made me
7:42physically nauseous. Arthur had hired a
7:44cheap fly by night landscaping crew run
7:47by a local hack named Tommy Rizzo, a guy
7:50known for cutting corners. They had
7:52driven two zeroturn mowers and a
7:54heavyduty brush hog directly into my
7:56mature corn. The damage was devastating.
7:59They had carved a jagged, chaotic 10-t
8:02wide path through roughly 5 acres of my
8:05crop. Thousands of stalks were
8:07flattened, crushed into the mud. The
8:09ears of corn shattered and ruined.
8:11Bright orange marking tape was tied to
8:14the surviving stalks to guide the path.
8:16As a farmer, watching your crop get
8:18destroyed is like watching someone set
8:20fire to your wallet while simultaneously
8:22spitting on months of your literal
8:24blood, sweat, and tears. That corn was
8:27my winter income. I immediately called
8:30the sheriff. Sheriff Brody arrived 20
8:32minutes later. He was a good man, a
8:35local guy who understood farming. When
8:37he saw the destruction, he took off his
8:39hat and rubbed the back of his neck.
8:41"Lord have mercy, Caleb. They just drove
8:44right through it." "I want them
8:46arrested," I said, shaking with rage. "I
8:49want Arthur Pendleton and Tommy Rizzo in
8:51handcuffs for criminal trespass and
8:53destruction of property. This is
8:56thousands of dollars in damages. Brody
8:58sighed heavily. Caleb, here's the
9:01problem. I talked to Arthur on the way
9:03over. He's claiming this is a boundary
9:05dispute. He showed me a doctorred plat
9:08map claiming the HOA owns a 50ft
9:10easement into this field for drainage
9:12maintenance. That's a blatant lie, I
9:15yelled. My grandfather fenced this line
9:17in 1,960.
9:20I believe one Caleb Brody said gently,
9:24but because Arthur
9:27Yugar re
9:30Oh, I can't arrest him without a judge's
9:33order and an official county land survey
9:35proving the exact property line. And
9:38getting a surveyor out here will take at
9:39least 2 weeks. Arthur had planned this
9:42perfectly. He knew exactly how to
9:44manipulate the bloated local bureaucracy
9:46to tie the cops hands. So he just gets
9:49away with it. I asked, staring at my
9:52ruined crops. You can sue him, Caleb.
9:55And you'll win, Brody assured me. But I
9:58can't physically stop them from walking
9:59on this land until a judge issues an
10:02injunction. I'm sorry. That night, I sat
10:05at my kitchen table nursing a glass of
10:07bourbon. Sarah was on her laptop,
10:10furiously scrolling through the Oak
10:12Creek Estates's private Facebook group.
10:14She had a fake account she used to keep
10:16an eye on neighborhood gossip. "You are
10:18not going to believe this," Sarah said,
10:21turning the screen toward me. There was
10:23a post from Dylan Hayes, the treasurer,
10:25it read. Incredible news, Oak Creek. The
10:28first annual corn maze is officially
10:31sold out. We have sold 800 tickets at
10:33$25 a piece, plus 200 VIP parking
10:37passes. This $22,000 revenue will go
10:40toward renovating the clubhouse. Huge
10:42shout out to Arthur for securing the
10:44land. See everyone on opening day this
10:46Saturday. The comments were a chorus of
10:49entitled praise. Beatatric Higgins
10:51wrote, "I can't wait to bring my
10:53grandkids. It's so nice that the farmer
10:55finally decided to share his ugly field
10:58with the community." I stared at the
11:00screen. They had sold 800 tickets. They
11:03were making $22,000 off the destruction
11:05of my property and they were going to
11:07trample the rest of my field this coming
11:09Saturday. It was currently Thursday
11:11night. I had less than 48 hours. I could
11:14sue them later, sure, but the lawsuit
11:17would drag on for years. Arthur would
11:19use HOA funds to pay for his lawyers,
11:22bleeding me dry in legal fees before I
11:24ever saw a dime. If I let Saturday
11:27happen, they won. They would walk all
11:29over me, literally and figuratively. I
11:32took a slow sip of my bourbon, looking
11:34out the kitchen window toward the dark
11:36silhouette of the machine shed where my
11:38John Deere S780 combine sat. An idea
11:42sparked in my mind. A dark, beautiful,
11:45devastating idea, I looked at Sarah.
11:47What's the moisture content on the South
11:49Field? I asked. She blinked, surprised
11:52by the sudden pivot to aronomy. We
11:55tested it Tuesday. It was hovering
11:57around 16%. Why? Field corn needs to dry
12:01out before it can be harvested and
12:03stored without rotting. The industry
12:05standard is 15.5%.
12:07If it's slightly higher, you can still
12:09harvest it, but you have to run it
12:11through grain dryers, which costs a
12:13little extra in propane. 16% was close.
12:17It was viable. They want a corn maze on
12:20Saturday, I said, a slow smile spreading
12:23across my face. They sold 800 tickets to
12:26walk through my corn. Sarah looked at
12:29me, realization dawning in her eyes.
12:32Caleb, you wouldn't. The forecast says
12:35it's going to be dry tomorrow, I said,
12:37standing up and grabbing my keys. I'm
12:40going to go grease the combine. Arthur
12:42thought he had outsmarted me with zoning
12:44laws and fake easements. He forgot one
12:47crucial detail. He didn't control the
12:49land. I did. And you don't mess with a
12:52farmer's harvest. By Friday morning, the
12:55air in the county was thick with the
12:57crisp, biting chill of mid-occtober, and
13:00the Oak Creek subdivision was buzzing
13:02like a hive of oblivious bees. From my
13:05porch, I could see delivery trucks
13:07rolling down the suburban streets,
13:09dropping off portable toilets, a massive
13:12inflatable pumpkin bounce house, and
13:14rented white event tents. Arthur
13:17Pendleton was marching around the
13:18perimeter of my southfield with a
13:20megaphone, directing a crew of teenagers
13:22who were hammering signposts into the
13:24dirt. They were preparing for the event
13:26of the season. I was preparing for war.
13:30Harvesting 40 acres of corn is not a
13:32casual undertaking. You don't just turn
13:34a key and drive. I spent Friday morning
13:37on the phone. First, I called my
13:40brother-in-law, Greg, who farms soybeans
13:43a few miles north. I told him what
13:45Arthur was planning and Greg didn't even
13:47hesitate. I'll be there by 4:00 with the
13:50grain card and the semi. Greg laughed,
13:53the heavy rumble of his voice crackling
13:55over the phone. I wouldn't miss this for
13:57the world. Next, I fired up the propane
14:00heaters for our on-site grain drying
14:02bins. If I was pulling corn at 16%
14:05moisture, I needed to blast it with heat
14:08the second it came out of the field to
14:10prevent rot. By 3:00 in the afternoon,
14:12the farm was a symphony of industrial
14:14noise. At 5:00 p.m., the sun began to
14:18dip low on the horizon, casting long,
14:21dramatic shadows across the golden
14:23stalks of the southfield. Over the fence
14:26line, the HOA was hosting a VIP pregala
14:29mixer at their community clubhouse. I
14:31could hear the faint, obnoxious thumping
14:34of a pop music playlist and the clinking
14:37of wine glasses. I walked into the
14:39machine shed and climbed the ladder into
14:41the cab of my John Deere S780 combine.
14:44For those unfamiliar with modern farming
14:46equipment, the S780 is not a tractor. It
14:50is a 473 horsepower Leviathan of steel,
14:53hydraulics, and spinning blades. When it
14:56runs, the ground literally vibrates. I
14:59turned the ignition. The massive diesel
15:01engine roared to life with a deafening
15:03throaty rumble. I flipped the switches
15:05for the LED stadium lights mounted on
15:08the cab, instantly flooding the shed and
15:10the driveway in blinding highintensity
15:13white light. I eased the machine out of
15:15the shed. The massive 12 row header
15:18attached to the front, looking like a
15:19mechanical shark's mouth. As I rolled
15:22down the dirt access road toward the
15:23south field, Greg pulled in behind me
15:26driving a Peterbuilt semi-truck pulling
15:28a massive grain trailer. When the nose
15:30of my combine crested the hill and my
15:33stadium lights hit the property line,
15:35the music at the HOA mixer abruptly
15:38stopped, I didn't hesitate. I dropped
15:40the header, engaged the separator, and
15:43pushed the hydrostatic throttle forward.
15:45The sound of a combine hitting a field
15:47of dry corn is a violent, beautiful
15:49thing. The stalk slammed into the
15:51header, violently chewed up and spat out
15:54the back as a fine, dusty cloud of
15:56chopped organic matter, while the golden
15:58kernels were blasted up into the grain
16:00tank behind my cab. I drove parallel to
16:03the subdivision property line, creating
16:05a massive swirling cloud of dust, dried
16:09leaves, and exhaust that the evening
16:11breeze carried directly toward the HOA
16:14clubhouse. Through the glass of my cab,
16:16I could see absolute pandemonium
16:19breaking out. Women in designer fall
16:21sweaters were shielding their wine
16:23glasses from the dust. Arthur Pendleton
16:25was sprinting toward the fence line, his
16:27face purple with rage, waving his arms
16:30frantically. He was screaming, but over
16:32the roar of the John Deere, he looked
16:34like a muted television. I hit the end
16:37of the row, executed a tight zero turn,
16:40and started my second pass. By the time
16:42I made it back to the south end of the
16:44field, the flashing red and blue lights
16:47of a police cruiser were cutting through
16:49the dust cloud. Sheriff Brody had
16:51returned. I idled the combine, stepped
16:54out onto the metal platform, and climbed
16:57down the ladder. Arthur and Dylan Hayes
16:59were standing next to Brody, completely
17:01covered in a fine layer of corn dust.
17:04Dylan was coughing violently, his
17:06expensive cologne entirely neutralized
17:08by the smell of diesel and dirt. Arrest
17:11him. Arthur screeched, pointing a
17:13trembling finger at me. This is an
17:16illegal disturbance. It's a noise
17:18violation. He's intentionally ruining
17:20our community event. Brody looked at me,
17:23then looked up at the massive combine
17:25and finally turned back to Arthur. He
17:28reached into his breast pocket and
17:30pulled out a small laminated card.
17:32"Arthur," Brody said, his voice carrying
17:35a distinct tone of exhausted patience.
17:38Are you familiar with the state's right
17:40to farm act? I don't care about some
17:43archaic farm law, Arthur shouted. We
17:46have a municipal noise ordinance. No
17:48heavy machinery after 6:00 p.m.
17:50Municipal noise ordinances do not apply
17:53to zoned agricultural land during active
17:55harvest periods. Brody recited, reading
17:58from the card. Farmers are legally
18:00permitted to operate harvesting
18:02equipment 24 hours a day, 7 days a week,
18:05when weather or crop conditions
18:07necessitate it. Furthermore, any attempt
18:10to physically impede an active harvest
18:12is a class B misdemeanor. Brody put the
18:15card back in his pocket and gave Arthur
18:17a cold stare. He's harvesting his crops,
18:20Arthur, on his land. There is absolutely
18:23nothing illegal about this. If you or
18:26any of your board members cross this
18:28fence line to stop him, I will arrest
18:30you. But the maze, Dylan gasped, wiping
18:33dirt from his eyes. The maze is in
18:36there. The gala is tomorrow morning.
18:38Then I suggest you figure something out,
18:40Brody said. He tipped his hat to me.
18:43Have a safe night, Caleb. Watch out for
18:46debris. Arthur looked like he was going
18:48to have a stroke. He stood frozen, his
18:51mouth opening and closing like a
18:52suffocating fish. As I climbed back up
18:55the ladder and shut the cab door. For
18:57the next 10 hours, Greg and I worked in
19:00relentless synchronized rhythm. We drove
19:03under the harsh glare of the LED lights,
19:05cutting row after row. The only
19:07challenge was the 5 acre section Tommy
19:10Rizzo's crew had vandalized. I had to go
19:13agonizingly slow through that part,
19:15raising the header to avoid sucking up
19:17any of the heavy wooden stakes or orange
19:19marking tape they had left behind, which
19:22could have destroyed my machine's
19:23internal rotors. By 4 a.m., my eyes were
19:27burning, my back was aching, and my
19:30coffee thermos was empty. But as the
19:33first pale slivers of dawn began to
19:35break over the eastern horizon, I pulled
19:37the combine out of the field and shut
19:39down the engine. The silence that
19:41followed was absolute and ringing. I
19:44looked back at the Southfield. The
19:46towering dense jungle of green and gold
19:48corn was gone. In its place was 40 acres
19:51of flat, jagged, ugly brown stubble. The
19:54earth was scarred with deep tractor ruts
19:56and covered in chopped plant debris.
19:58There was no maze. There were no paths.
20:01There was just a barren wasteland of
20:03harvested dirt. Saturday morning dawned
20:06crisp, bright, and utterly unforgiving.
20:09I set a lawn chair on my back porch,
20:12poured a fresh cup of black coffee, and
20:14watched the disaster unfold with a pair
20:16of high-powered hunting binoculars. At
20:197:30 a.m., the HOA setup committee
20:22arrived. I watched Beatatric Higgins
20:24carry a heavy plastic cooler of hot
20:27cocoa mix toward the ticket booth. She
20:29set it down, wiped her brow, and then
20:32looked out at the field. She froze. The
20:34cooler lid slipped from her hands and
20:36clattered to the ground. At 8:00 a.m.,
20:39Arthur and Dylan arrived in a stretched
20:41golf cart. Even from a quarter mile
20:43away, I could see the exact moment
20:46Arthur's soul left his body. He stumbled
20:48out of the golf cart, walking to the
20:50edge of the property line, staring out
20:53at the miles of flat, chewed-up dirt.
20:55The maze he had mapped, marketed, and
20:58sold to the public had vanished
21:00overnight. But the true catastrophe
21:02wasn't the missing corn. It was the
21:04logistics of what they had built. You
21:07see, when you arrogantly sell 800
21:09tickets to an event, assuming you have
21:11unlimited power, you unleash a beast you
21:14cannot control. At 8:45 a.m., the first
21:17minivan started rolling into the
21:19subdivision. By 9:15 a.m.,
21:22[clears throat] the streets of Oak Creek
21:23Estates were gridlocked in a
21:25catastrophic traffic jam. Cars were
21:27parked on lawns, blocking fire hydrants
21:31and clogging the main artery of the
21:32neighborhood. Through the binoculars, I
21:35watched hundreds of people, families in
21:37matching flannel shirts, teenage couples
21:40looking for photo ops, parents dragging
21:42customized wagons full of toddlers
21:44marching toward the community park. They
21:46lined up at the ticket booths and then
21:49they looked past the booths. I couldn't
21:51hear the yelling, but the body language
21:53was loud and clear. Arms were thrown in
21:56the air. Pointing fingers were shoved in
21:59Arthur's face. At 1000 a.m., my cell
22:02phone rang. It was an unknown number. I
22:05answered it. "Caleb?" Arthur's voice
22:07shrieked through the speaker, bordering
22:09on hysterical. "You have to come down
22:12here. You have to fix this." "Fix what,
22:14Arthur?" I asked mildly, taking a sip of
22:17my coffee. "I just completed a very
22:19successful harvest. Yields were higher
22:22than expected. There are hundreds of
22:24people here," he screamed. "They're
22:26demanding to see a maze. You destroyed
22:28it." No, Arthur. I harvested my crop on
22:32my land, I replied coldly. You sold
22:34tickets to a fantasy. That sounds like a
22:36fraud issue, not a farming issue. We are
22:39going to sue you into oblivion. Dylan
22:41yelled in the background, having
22:43apparently put the phone on speaker. We
22:45are keeping your 5% cut. You get
22:48nothing. I actually laughed out loud.
22:50Dylan, you sold 800 tickets at $25 a
22:54pop, plus 200 VIP parking passes at 10
22:57bucks. That's $22,000.
23:00These people want refunds. I highly
23:02suggest you start handing the money back
23:04before they burn your clubhouse down.
23:06The line went dead silent. A heavy,
23:09suffocating pause stretched over the
23:11phone. Arr, I prompted. Just give them
23:14the refunds. We We can't, Arthur
23:18stammered, his voice suddenly very
23:20small, all the bluster completely
23:22deflated. Why not? Because, Dylan chimed
23:25in, sounding like he was on the verge of
23:28a panic attack. We already spent it. We
23:31used the ticket revenue as a
23:32non-refundable down payment for the
23:34clubhouse roof replacement on Thursday.
23:36We also paid the petting zoo vendor, the
23:39bounce house rental, and the portaotti
23:41company in advance. The HOA operating
23:44account only has $1,200 in it. The sheer
23:48staggering incompetence of it was almost
23:50beautiful. In their desperation to look
23:52successful, they had spent money they
23:54hadn't technically earned yet on an
23:57event hosted on land they didn't own.
23:59"Well, boys," I said, leaning back in my
24:02chair. "I suggest you call Sheriff Brody
24:05for crowd control. Have a great gayla,"
24:07I hung up. The fallout was apocalyptic.
24:10The attendees didn't just want refunds,
24:13they wanted blood. Because the HOA
24:15couldn't refund the $22,000,
24:18people started calling their credit card
24:20companies and banks to issue chargebacks
24:22for fraud. When a bank forcibly pulls
24:25money back from a drained account, it
24:27triggers massive overdraft fees. Within
24:3048 hours, the Oak Creek Estates's HOA
24:33account was nearly $10,000 in the
24:36negative. But the drama didn't end
24:38there. The food truck vendors, who had
24:41paid the HOA a $500 vendor fee each for
24:44the right to park at the event, banded
24:46together and filed a class action
24:48lawsuit for breach of contract and lost
24:51wages, citing that the HOA had
24:53misrepresented the venue. Then came my
24:56turn. On Wednesday of the following
24:58week, my lawyer formerly served the Oak
25:00Creek HOA and Arthur Pendleton
25:02individually with a civil lawsuit. We
25:05sued them for $18,000.
25:07This covered the market value of the 5
25:09acres of corn Tommy Rizzo's crew had
25:11maliciously destroyed, the cost of the
25:14specialized grain drying required to
25:16harvest a week early, and legal fees.
25:19Faced with massive debt, furious
25:22vendors, and a slam dunk lawsuit they
25:24couldn't possibly win, the residents of
25:26Oak Creek Estates finally woke up. An
25:29emergency neighborhood meeting was
25:31called. It was a bloodbath. Beatatric
25:34Higgins and the rest of the neighborhood
25:35turned on Arthur like starving wolves.
25:38They voted to immediately dissolve the
25:40current board, impeaching Arthur and
25:42Dylan in a unanimous vote of no
25:44confidence to pay the vendors, refund
25:46the tickets, and settle my lawsuit out
25:48of court. The new HOA board was forced
25:51to levy a special emergency assessment
25:53on the neighborhood. Every single
25:55household in Oak Creek Estates was
25:57forced to pay a mandatory fee of $650
26:01just to dig the association out of the
26:03financial grave Arthur had dug for them.
26:06The community despised him. He couldn't
26:09check his mail without neighbors glaring
26:11at him or muttering insults. His
26:13pristine white BMW was mysteriously
26:16egged three times in one month. Unable
26:18to handle the shame and the complete
26:20loss of his dictatorial power, Arthur
26:23Pendleton listed his house for sale by
26:25Thanksgiving, he moved out just after
26:27New Year's, fleeing to a condo in
26:29Florida, hopefully far away from any
26:31agricultural zoning. As for me, I got a
26:34check for $18,000,
26:36paid for by the very people who thought
26:38they could walk all over my livelihood.
26:40I used the money to upgrade the GPS auto
26:43steer system in my combine and took
26:45Sarah on a two-week vacation to Hawaii.
26:48My Southfield remained exactly as it
26:51was, a quiet, private piece of
26:53agricultural land, and every time I
26:55drive my John Deere along that property
26:57line. I look over at the Oak Creek
26:59subdivision, smile, and tip my hat. They
27:03finally learned the golden rule of
27:05living in the country. Don't poke the
27:07farmer and never ever touch the harvest.
27:10If you loved hearing this entitled HOA
27:12get exactly what they deserved, hit that
27:15like button and subscribe to the channel
27:17for more crazy real life revenge
27:19stories. What would you have done if
27:21someone carved a path through your
27:22livelihood? Let me know down in the
27:24comments below. Don't forget to ring the
27:26notification bell so you never miss an
27:28upload and share this video with anyone
27:30who hates HOA drama as much as we do.
27:34See you next time.

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