The house at 847 Maple Grove carried more than walls and memories—it held a living heirloom: a fifty-year-old apple tree planted by my grandparents. That tree shaded my childhood summers, gave us crisp Northern Spy apples every fall, and stood as a legacy of love and resilience. When new neighbors moved in, their “paradise plans” clashed with my family history. They wanted my tree gone because it blocked the sun from their hot tub. I refused.

While I was on vacation, they trespassed and hired a crew to cut it down. I came home to a stump where half a century of memories had stood. But they underestimated both the law and my resolve. With security footage, witness statements, and an arborist’s valuation, I sued. They paid $21,000 in damages—and as poetic justice, I planted three towering spruce trees that will cast shade over their old yard for decades. They thought they could erase my past, but all they did was plant the roots of their own downfall.