I may actually have to quit doing stories on HOAs that fine and foreclose on veterans who try to display the America flag on their homes. There are just too many of them. Despite my earlier promise to report on all these outrageous cases, I’d just end up doing several such stories a day and not much else.
So, I hereby reluctantly admit that the anti-American, anti-homeowner movement, CAI, Associa, American Bar Association, ACLU are too firmly rooted in our society to ever win back our right to display the flag on our homes. We might still be able to put flag decals on car bumpers, but that, too, is under attack.
I was near the area so on a whim I decided to carve out a few minutes from a very busy day and see…see what my old neighborhood looks like today. My very first house was one of the smaller ones with it’s big trees, a red brick ranch with zoysia grass, and hand-picked by my dad. He called it my “starter” home.
Together, we remodeled the kitchen and I worked every weekend on one project after another after Dad died. I had an arsenal of tools and endless energy. My neighbor lady told me her husband always said I was the hardest working woman he’d ever seen. According to her, he would see me pull up in my little sports car, jump out in my high heels and suit with my briefcase in hand, and race inside. 15 minutes later I’d reappear in my overalls with my aluminum ladder (another gift from Dad) and up I’d go to clean the gutters. Back down to mow the lawn and grab the extension cord so I could trim the shrubs. Occasionally needing a bandage for a cut or scrape and once the ladder dipped and caught the ground while I was carrying it and smacked me in the eye. I wore a really deep purple, red, and black eye for several days after that. I was always busy, but I never knew somebody was observing my routine until Mrs. Neighbor told me. Today, I don’t recall her name.
What I do recall was Dad making sure I did not buy a house with an HOA. After this HOA nightmare I have been living, I observed my old neighborhood with a peaked and open-minded interest. I had totally forgotten about the pink house! It was pink before I moved there in 1984. No two houses look the same. Many had American flags flying today…and always did. Some with swimming pools and others with porch swings. Some ranches, some two stories, and one that has totally gone away. Possibly earlier today? I don’t know, but the bulldozers were still there and the earth looked freshly dug but the house was gone from the corner lot.
Today’s visit confirmed one thing for sure; that this HOA-Free neighborhood did not lose its value. I sold for double what I paid and today that house is worth double that amount. The people that bought it still own it. The city records say the average price in Southmoor Gardens is $188K but there are houses valued at $500K. Imagine that! Houses holding that kind of value with basketball goals, American flags flying, various house colors…even a pink one…fences of different styles, every color in the crayon box for front doors, paver bricks and concrete driveways and even one with gravel. Swing sets, gazebos, and wrap around porches. Nothing looked “junky” but it all looked lived in. Every single house seemed to sing “Home Sweet Home” in Kansas as I passed by.
Do those 700 residents realize they are living in a piece of paradise? Do they realize how all the HOA and CAI snobs scream about the surefire guarantee of a pink house destroying the property values in the neighborhood? Well, it’s impossible to argue with happy neighbors and increased property values, isn’t it?
Boy, Oh Boy! Is Heritage Property Management and Ridge Creek Condos in Clarkston, Georgia trying for the Georgia State Stupidity Award???
Kayla Holland is a condo renter. Her car got booted because her landlord didn’t pay the HOA dues. She out-smarted them, she had the tires, boot and all removed! An unidentified owner has his dues debited from his bank account but he got the boot, too.
Yes, I know I’m harping, but every time I see one of these outrageous stories about homeowners not being allowed to display the Stars and Stripes I’m going to erupt.
As I’ve said before, I have five family members buried in Arlington, another war hero family member buried in a National Cemetery in Portland, Oregon. These men and women stood for a principle, that the American ethic means something. It means we’re courageous in the face of evil. It means we stand up for what’s right and against what’s wrong. It means that when we realize we’ve made a mistake we have a Constitution that allows us to correct it. It means if our leaders in the White House, the Congress, the Senate or elsewhere are too wimpy or too cowardly to stand up for what’s right, we have the right as American voters to toss their butts into the street.
I hate to call it a character flaw while still admitting the possibility that I’m sometimes loathe to reveal ‘insider information’ about the Neighbors At War website. But it’s clear it’s becoming a growing clearinghouse of ideas proposed to solve a serious social problem. Sure, I’m a mercenary trying to pump up sales of what my ego tells me is a pretty good book. At the same time, large numbers of people are actually coming together and learning and sharing ideas on how we radicals, we wretched masses of the discontented can come together to have a profound impact on changing a very flawed American institution.
