I read that letter four times. There was no mention of any legal agreement, no reference to an easement, no documentation attached. Just the assumption stated plainly that I would continue allowing them to take water from my land because that was how things had always been. I set the letter on my desk. I photographed it. I scanned it. I sent the scan to Patricia that same night with a single line. They’ve acknowledged the pipe in writing without citing any legal basis.
Patricia replied within the hour. She said, “Save everything. Do not respond yet.” So I didn’t. Patricia’s strategy was simple. Build the record first, respond second. She had seen cases like this before, not identical, but similar. A landowner arrives. A neighbor has been using something, a road, a well, a drainage ditch, without permission. The neighbor assumes silence means consent.
The longer the silence, the stronger their eventual adverse possession claim could theoretically become. But Patricia explained that adverse possession on a newly purchased property where the new owner had already documented the encroachment within weeks of taking title was extremely difficult to argue. I had moved fast enough. The survey was dated. The photographs were timestamped. The HOA’s own letter was now in my file.
What I needed next was usage data. I needed to know how much water they were pulling from that well. I needed to know how long it had been happening. And I needed to know whether anyone in the chain of previous ownership had ever given verbal or written permission. I started with the county records office. I spent two full days there.
I pulled the deed history on my parcel going back forty years. I pulled the recorded plat maps for Maplewood Estates. The subdivision had been developed fourteen years ago. The HOA was incorporated twelve years ago. The wellhead on my property, according to an old county groundwater permit I found in the physical files, had been drilled eighteen years ago, before the subdivision existed, by the previous owner of my land, a man named Elton Marsh.
Elton Marsh had died six years ago. His estate had sold the parcel to a land holding company. That company had sold it to me. I found no record of any easement granted to Maplewood Estates or its developer at any point in that chain. Not in the deed transfers, not in the plat filings, not in the county utility records. I photographed every relevant document. I logged every file number. I organized everything chronologically.
Then I tracked down Elton Marsh’s daughter. Her name was found in the probate records. She still lived in the county, about twenty miles east. I drove out on a Tuesday morning and knocked on her door. I introduced myself as Dale Harmon, the new owner of her father’s land. I was polite. I asked if she knew anything about the well on the western edge of the property.
She knew immediately what I was referring to. She said her father had complained about it near the end of his life. She said the subdivision developer had approached him years ago asking to tap into the well temporarily during construction. Her father had said no. They had done it anyway. By the time Elton realized the pipe was still running, he was ill and had no energy to fight it.
He had mentioned it to her. She had no documents, but she was willing to write a signed statement describing what her father had told her. I thanked her. I asked if she would be willing to speak with my attorney. She said yes without hesitation. I drove home and called Patricia. I told her what I had found.