“Use?”
“No.”
“Drainage plan?”
“No.”
“Setbacks?”
“No.”
“Building height?”
“No.”
He paused.
“Then what are you asking?”
“If I build the originally approved structure exactly according to the stamped plans, do I need a permit amendment?”
“No.”
“The western wall is twenty feet.”
“That’s what your approved elevation shows.”
“One hundred twenty feet long.”
“Yes.”
“Dark metal siding.”
He laughed.
“I don’t regulate whether your neighbor likes charcoal.”
“So I build the stamped plan.”
“You build the stamped plan.”
I thanked him.
Then I called my contractor.
“How soon can you mobilize?”
“Three weeks.”
“Can you make it two?”
He laughed.
“What happened?”
“Trees are gone.”
There was a pause.
He knew the history.
“All of them?”
“Twelve.”
“Damn.”
“Two weeks?”
“I’ll start calling suppliers.”
Paul sent Silver Ridge a litigation-preservation notice that afternoon.
It instructed the association, management company, officers, and relevant contractors to preserve emails, meeting minutes, text messages, maps, photographs, work orders, invoices, board communications, and any documents relating to the trees.