She asked if I had a property survey. I did. Sent that, too. Another pause. Then she said, “We’ll send an inspector out.” 3 days later, a city truck pulled up behind the Carter house. White pickup, clipboard, hard hat sitting on the dashboard. The inspector introduced himself as Mike. Nice guy, probably mid-50s.
We walked the property line together while he took notes. He measured the post, measured the overhang, then he looked up at the balcony. “Did they file a permit for this?” “I have no idea,” I said. He nodded slowly. Well, we’re about to find out. He walked next door and knocked. Travis opened the door. From my yard, I could see the smile he usually wore slowly fade when he noticed the city truck. They talked for about 10 minutes.
I couldn’t hear the conversation, but I could see Mike pointing toward the post, then up toward the balcony. At one point, Travis gestured toward my yard like he was explaining something. Mike shook his head. Then he pulled something out of his folder. A bright orange notice, the kind you can see from across the street.
He taped it to the sliding door that led out to the balcony. Even from where I stood, I could read the words. Violation notice. Work ordered halted. Travis stared at the paper like it had personally insulted him. That afternoon, he came over, knocked on my door. Different energy this time. No big smile.
He said, “You called the city?” I leaned against the door frame. Yeah. He exhaled through his nose. You could have talked to me first. I almost laughed. I did. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Finally, he said, “This is a minor encroachment. 2 ft of concrete in my yard isn’t minor. It’s just a post.
It’s my property.” That’s when Lindsay showed up behind him. She stepped forward like she was taking control of the situation. Her tone was smoother, more diplomatic. “Look,” she said gently. We’re neighbors. We don’t want this to turn into a big thing. I said, then move the balcony. She gave a small, tight smile.
That would require redesigning the roof line. There it was. The real issue: money, time. They built the structure the easiest way possible. And gambled no one would fight it. [music] She continued. Maybe we can work something out. Like what? Well, we could maintain the tree for you. Trim it professionally. I stared at her.
You already trimmed it. Her smile flickered. Travis [music] jumped back in. Listen, man. It’s just airspace. It’s not like we’re walking around in your yard. I looked up at the balcony. [music] From that angle, I could see straight into the second floor windows of my house, [music] my bedroom, my office, my deck, everything.
You realize from up there, you can see directly into my house, right? He shrugged. So, [music] can half the neighborhood. No, I said calmly. They can’t. Another long silence. Finally, Lindsay [music] said quietly, “Let’s just see what the city says.” I nodded, “Yeah, let’s for the next couple weeks, [music] things got tense.” They weren’t allowed to use the balcony.
The violation notice [music] stayed taped to their door. Workers came by twice to measure things, then left again. Every time I walked into my backyard, I could see that structure hanging above me like a bad decision, frozen in wood and metal. One evening, Dave stopped by with a six-pack and we sat under the maple tree looking up at it.
