Make it quick, Karen snapped. We’ve heard enough. I walked to the front of the room and Karen reluctantly stepped aside, clearly annoyed that I was taking up space at her tribunal. First, I said, opening my folder and pulling out a document, let’s address the property issue. Karen claims I’m occupying HOA common property. That’s interesting because here’s my property deed properly registered with the county, showing that the house at 742 Oak Street and all surrounding land, including the pool, is private property.

Always has been. I held it up so everyone could see the official seal. Here’s the survey from when the house was built. Here’s the plot map from the county registrar. And here I pulled out another document is a letter from the county zoning office confirming that no part of 742 Oak Street has ever been designated as HOA common property. Karen’s smile faltered. Those could be forged.

They’re not, I interrupted calmly. They’re official county records, available to anyone who wants to verify them. I moved to the next document in my folder. Now, let’s talk about harassment. Karen claims I’ve been threatening her family, making harassing phone calls, surveilling their home. That’s a serious accusation. I pulled out my phone records.

Here are my phone logs for the past six months. You’ll see I called Brandon exactly once last Tuesday at 2:47 p.m. to politely ask him to stop honking his horn repeatedly in front of my house. The call lasted 43 seconds. He hung up on me. I looked at Karen. Would you like me to play the recording? Her face went pale.

You recorded a phone call with my son without permission. Actually, in this state, one party consent is legal for recording. But that’s not the point. The point is one polite phone call doesn’t constitute harassment. I set the phone logs on the table. As for surveilling your home, I haven’t been anywhere near your property. What I have been doing is recording activity on my own property.

Which brings me to Friday night. I pulled out a tablet and queued up the security footage. This is my property, my cameras. Friday evening around 6:15 p.m. I hit play. The large screen showed crystal clear footage of Brandon’s BMW pulling up to my house. Then Brandon and about 20 teenagers piling out, jumping my fence, and proceeding to throw a party in my pool area.

The timestamp was clear. The faces were clear. Everything was clear. The room went dead silent as we watched Brandon and his friends trash my property. You could hear the bottles breaking, the furniture being thrown around, someone yelling about pushing the grill into the pool. This lasted for approximately 4 hours, I said, letting the footage play.