Our friend, Debra, created yard-envy with her tales of Omar and his magic blades, but while Omar and Debra tiptoe through the Texas cactus, we've got major yard work going on here this summer.
9 years ago we built a house. We had a steeper lot than those surrounding us, so we got lucky; the landscaping crews had to grade our lot to level it, not fill it. It seems that when Shoddy Construction Co. landscaped after finishing construction, they just piled all the dead trees and brush taken down for house construction, pushed the piles into holes and hollows, then covered them with dirt, sod, and/or seed and straw. Everyone moved into their new houses and immediately erected 6-foot privacy fences (no peeking on the neighbors).
Nowhere in my rudimentary knowledge of botany had I learned that Nature takes 7 years to "recycle" trees, with the help of insects and decay. When the trees are digested, the earth above them sinks … and sinks … and sinks. Right on time, about two years ago, Don caught a sidewise glimpse of what looked like a big hole in the yard next door. He climbed a ladder, peered over, and learned our neighbors had huge depressions in their backyards—some looked 6 feet deep. One homeowner began organizing other affected homeowners, holding meetings, venting fury, and seeking legal advice. Because we had not suffered a direct hit and felt the group was wasting its money, time, and energy, as Tennessee's statute of limitations for builder liability is only 5 years, we wished them our best and opted out on retribution. Besides, Shoddy Construction Co. (a huge outfit) was sold and ceased to exist as a separate entity, shortly after we moved into our house, and we were positive the new owner, Pulte Homes, would not take responsibility for Shoddy's negligence.
For two years the neighbors' backyards got seedier and scroungier as they lost heart, looking at the messes behind them. Earth fell away beneath a concrete patio, creating a marvelous fox den. We've had foxes and their kits all over the cul-de-sac for months, even having to "shoo!" them off the porch furniture and stop them from chewing the binding on my porch rug! We'd had no further conversation with the neighbors about their efforts at restoration; we felt sick for our neighbors, lucky not to have been in the same boat, and apprehensive about our property value.
It was with some surprise 6 weeks ago that someone knocked on our door on a Wednesday afternoon. A representative of Pulte Homes informed us of their intention to resolve the serious problem affecting 6 or 7 families surrounding us. We signed legal agreements, got assurances of fence and landscaping replacement, agreed to sacrifice two 30'-tall Leland cypress trees, have our fence partially removed and replaced, etc., to enable access to our neighbors' yards.
9 years ago we built a house. We had a steeper lot than those surrounding us, so we got lucky; the landscaping crews had to grade our lot to level it, not fill it. It seems that when Shoddy Construction Co. landscaped after finishing construction, they just piled all the dead trees and brush taken down for house construction, pushed the piles into holes and hollows, then covered them with dirt, sod, and/or seed and straw. Everyone moved into their new houses and immediately erected 6-foot privacy fences (no peeking on the neighbors).
Nowhere in my rudimentary knowledge of botany had I learned that Nature takes 7 years to "recycle" trees, with the help of insects and decay. When the trees are digested, the earth above them sinks … and sinks … and sinks. Right on time, about two years ago, Don caught a sidewise glimpse of what looked like a big hole in the yard next door. He climbed a ladder, peered over, and learned our neighbors had huge depressions in their backyards—some looked 6 feet deep. One homeowner began organizing other affected homeowners, holding meetings, venting fury, and seeking legal advice. Because we had not suffered a direct hit and felt the group was wasting its money, time, and energy, as Tennessee's statute of limitations for builder liability is only 5 years, we wished them our best and opted out on retribution. Besides, Shoddy Construction Co. (a huge outfit) was sold and ceased to exist as a separate entity, shortly after we moved into our house, and we were positive the new owner, Pulte Homes, would not take responsibility for Shoddy's negligence.
For two years the neighbors' backyards got seedier and scroungier as they lost heart, looking at the messes behind them. Earth fell away beneath a concrete patio, creating a marvelous fox den. We've had foxes and their kits all over the cul-de-sac for months, even having to "shoo!" them off the porch furniture and stop them from chewing the binding on my porch rug! We'd had no further conversation with the neighbors about their efforts at restoration; we felt sick for our neighbors, lucky not to have been in the same boat, and apprehensive about our property value.
It was with some surprise 6 weeks ago that someone knocked on our door on a Wednesday afternoon. A representative of Pulte Homes informed us of their intention to resolve the serious problem affecting 6 or 7 families surrounding us. We signed legal agreements, got assurances of fence and landscaping replacement, agreed to sacrifice two 30'-tall Leland cypress trees, have our fence partially removed and replaced, etc., to enable access to our neighbors' yards.
It's been a big boy's sandbox in our backyard, interesting and a somewhat unifying experience. To the crews we've offered drinks and a cool spot to rest.
With all the privacy fences down, we see how seedy some of the yards really had gotten,
but we've met neighbors we never talked to before. The task is to dig up
and haul away all the logs and crappy fill, have an engineer certify they have hit solid subsoil, then fill back in with heavy dirt and rock, compacting it all with road building equipment.
The width and depth of the giant dig have been astounding. The Panama Canal in our backyard was dug at least 15 feet wide and a good 20 feet deep, cutting a swath probably 1/10 of a mile long.
Pulte tells us they will spend nearly $500,000 cleaning up the mess Shoddy Construction left in their laps. They're a national corporation, very visible in Nashville, and I guess with a reputation and possible legal liability at stake, should someone get hurt falling in the damn holes, they stepped up and did the right thing—for us and them.
So far, there is absolutely no evidence any homes suffered any compromise in foundations. We watched our construction all the way, and are confident our house is sound. Engineers have been involved and this is not simply a cosmetic fix. We have to rethink what we want to do with our own backyard once they're gone, and it seems a good time to remove flower beds we've lost interest in, and replace the diseased old photinia with more Leland cypresses, so lovely, maintenance-free, and sound-muffling. And I guess we are little guys who are now a little less cynical about big business.
So far, there is absolutely no evidence any homes suffered any compromise in foundations. We watched our construction all the way, and are confident our house is sound. Engineers have been involved and this is not simply a cosmetic fix. We have to rethink what we want to do with our own backyard once they're gone, and it seems a good time to remove flower beds we've lost interest in, and replace the diseased old photinia with more Leland cypresses, so lovely, maintenance-free, and sound-muffling. And I guess we are little guys who are now a little less cynical about big business.
2 comments:
What an incredible story. We had a similar thing happen on a street of expensive upscale homes in Laguna Niguel. About a dozen houses on one side of the street started slipping downhill. The development was high on a ridge and the ground below gave way and took the houses with it. This happened not overnight but over years, so wasn't noticable for a long time. Eventually you could see it from the valley below. The homeowners looked for someone to sue, but you can't sue Mother Nature. Some people tried to sell but no one would buy their house. I don't think they ever shored up the hill. People just took the hit and moved on. The irony is that when the ground is gone, there's nothing left to collect insurance on.
We've been sooo lucky. My worst complaint is that the foxes, while darling to watch, are ruining my porch. This morning I found the stuffing and cover completely chewed off my little iron footstool! If you live in California there's an automatic risk that Mother Nature won't like it (though, Rian, it looks like your lot won't need to be filled either). But TENNESSEE?? The whole damn state sits on granite bedrock. We're in gentle rolling landscape on a southerly line with Kentucky's famous Bluegrass region--lovely but not exactly breathtaking topography. The cautionary tale: Don't bury trees!
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