JAN-B-9
THE UNPLEASANT SURPRISES OF SETTLING ACCOUNTS
ON DERWOOD TREE DAMAGE,
INCLUDING THOSE OF AN UNFRIENDLY NEIGHBOR,
AND PACKING UP WITH INTERESTS OF ANOTHER
NEIGHBOR FOR THE HORN OF
WITH MUCH OF MY KIT IRRETRIEVABLY STORED
IN DERWOOD;
THEN AN EARLY RALLY WITH THE AUKWARD
FAMILY FOR THE MCDONALD BREAKFAST RUN
January 24—25, 2004
I have been packing up, and paying large checks, in anticipation of leaving, and have discovered at least one more instance in which someone greedy is trying to take advantage of me while I am preparing for volunteer service to the needy. This will require some further business stops in my attorneys office before departure, with now a third reason for his services, related to a close neighbor/friend of the Vander Harts. Well, they were quick to sue me, so they should understand that there is no recourse but to sue their favorite neighbor—the Rubins!
I had an extended conversation with Ernie
Shifflett about the astronomic tree service bills, which totaled $39,000 cash—better
than the price of a new SUV! It turned
out that the first $7,000 I paid was for the “prophylactic” removal in July of
the dead trees that could be thought to represent a threat to the construction
project which would begin a month later with demolition and dumpsters on the
premises. I was gone in
As I drove down Kipling Road on the day after the Hurricane—and while making plans for yet another departure, the first thing I saw was a very enormous branch lying across the Rubin’s front yard, barely missing their two cars parked in the driveway—missed by inches. I took a couple of pictures (fortunately) which I had field in the album of the house renovation records. Before I looked into my own considerable damage, reported to me by Glenn Murrell who had got his work crew around the back with chain saws to cut a pathway through the back where the first footings were being put in for the foundation of the Great Room, I paused to note that the big branch was entirely the Rubin’s problem: the log had fallen entirely on their front lawn and only the tips of the branches reached the street, and the tree itself was on their lot, a good fifteen feet or more from my lot line.
I went up my drive to see the big tricentennila oak leaning over, and the windsheared white oak at the site where the Breakfast Room had been designed around it as an existing and planned to be remaining tree. The stump was thirty feet high with the crown having been “sailed” off the trunk by the canopy blowing it north away from the house, but disrupting the approach for the workmen to put in the foundations of the new porch, deck and Breakfast Room itself. I was glad that I already had a working relationship with Ernie Shifflett’s Tree Service, since it might mean that I could get a higher position on the queue of people clamoring for help after this immensely destructive Hurricane which blasted through the area with a wide swath of woodland devastation. Because the trees were fully leafed out, the added sail area and the winds coming from opposite their usual direction had shorn the “sail off the mast” and these two trees would have to come out with the help of a crane.
THE SEQUENCE OF CALLS BY THE RUBINS TO BOTH
PUBLIC AND PRIVATE TREE SERVICES TO GET
THEIR DRIVEWAY
AND LAWN CLEARED
The sequence of events from the reclusive Rubins is reconstructed from both Ernie Shifflett and Ed Luber’s stories about exactly what happened next, and their stories are precisely the same. Rubins’ called Ernie Shifflett first, and Ed Lubers reported that within an hour of the principle storm tree windfalls, a pickup truck with two guys in it came out with chain saws and cleared the driveway behind the two Rubin’s cars—unscratched—and said they would be back to get the rest of that which had fallen on the front lawn—huge logs that would require a big crane. Then the Rubins called the County, and they also came to start working on the branches of the crown that hit the street, trimming all the tops of the tree, but leaving the big logs of the top part of the tree on their lawn.
By that time, I had also contacted Ernie Shifflett, and his daughter Kim, had relayed the message, and Ernie had come back to look at the damage, had said “what a mess!” and said he would get to it when he could after he had made the first priority cutting trees off houses and cars, and when he could get the crane rentals. I had thanked him, and the D G Liu crew had also been working to free up a work space for their ongoing demolition and preliminary construction.
When I visited next, I found a yellow slip of paper tucked into my mailbox—an illegal use of the US Post, if I recall. It is a snippy note that states “I assume that you have plans for removing that tree from our lawn, and I would appreciate knowing what those plans are.” This is the only communication we have had about the matter, and they made no follow-up to me, and I was gone so did not respond at all.
Now, just what Chutzpah led them to believe I was going to arrange the removal of their tree, from their lawn, having fallen from and to their lot and make that inconvenience of unsightliness the top priority over all the more serious damage I and others had sustained.
I was gone when the Shifflett and Gary crew came back to work with the big Sky Crane, which the Lubers watched, as they went first to pick up the logs from the Rubin’s lawn and use the crane and “Intimidator” to totally consume the fallen timber, with his impression that the Rubins had flagged down the Shifflett crew to start first with their complaint before getting to work on mine. Remember—they called Ernie Shifflett first, so they figured their claim had priority over mine.
My neighbors on Leopold were more nervous since if the tulip poplar that was leaning under the weight of the Tricentennial oak, gave way, the huge crushing burden of that big oak would wipe out the first two houses on Leopold. The crane crew got to work on the two trees up my drive—the one at the house where the Breakfast Room was interfered with and then the Tricentennila Oak itself. I came to see that part of the operation, and saw how quickly the crane crew and suspended Guatemalans worked. I left right after that, and was out of the country when the next parts occurred.
The crew came back with the crane and the Intimidator and removed the Rubin’s dead tree from which the top log branch had fallen, and they sawed off the stump at the ground—with the stump now marking the spot where the dead tree fell—another bit of photographic evidence I have retained. I got a bill, not further itemized for $18,000, with an $11,000 balance due, and I went right to Ernie Shiflett’s house with Gary and paid them with a check for $14,000 on top of the pre-payment of $4,000 I had given Ernie with a handshake when he had promised to take good care of my property Gary had asked me about my volunteer medical missions and had said he should contribute some charity and would talk with his Guatemalan workers about it in the further Hurricane Isabel cleanup of the woods, including the downfalls behind the house and in the front woods.
My next notice about what is happening is the appearance of a crumpled white paper in my mailbox with a bill for $20,500.00 not further itemized, for “cleanup of the woods.” This did not sound very charitable to me, and would bring my total for the as yet incomplete cleanup of the Hurricane’s downfall an unexpecte3d, uninsured $39,000 coming at a time when I was overstretched for the renovation of Derwood and not even able to live there and enjoy the woods, but unable even to retrieve the stored articles now trashed with the drywall dust and dishevelment of the construction site.
I wrote a note to Ernie and Gary asking for an itemization, specifically asking what part of this new bill was the part that included the Rubins’ tree, which I suspected was tucked into my billings? We met to discuss this last Saturday, and they told me about the high cost of the crane, and the extensive labor charges. They said they would try to make some irreducible concessions, but they could not reduce the heavy equipment rental. Since there was no heavy equipment or crane rental in the subsequent bill, what was the answer to the question of the Rubins’ tree? I asked Ernie by phone. The answer was simple: I had already paid for their tree! That was one third of the three trees removed by the heavy carne and crew that I had paid with the $11,000 charge already paid. I asked how it was that I was billed for the Rubins’ tree when I was already overwhelmed with unaffordable tree bills of my own?
Ed Lubers had a branch which fell from a tree that was based on my property, on July 3, which he called me about and told me “First, you should know that it is entirely my responsibility.” He had called State Farm, and they told him it was his problem, and only the part that touched the back deck that would be insured. Because he called me to ask about it, I had volunteered to help him with the payment that was uninsured, which Ernie Shifflett’s crew cleared up on the morning of July 4, and did so. Now check this out in contrast to the treatment at the hands of the Rubins.
Ernie said to me “They are your neighbors,
aren’t they? Go ask them for the money
you paid to remove their tree!”
Right! I recalled the only communication they had with me (and
none from me to them) and that was
their snippy arrogant and presumptuous note in my mailbox, then their
commandeering the crew in my absence to take care of their problem first—then
gloating that this was at my expense!
I said to Ernie, “No, you go talk to them, and I will pay you the balance I owe on the
woods clean up with the deduction of the pre-payment I had made on their tree
which you can collect from
them.” Ernie reluctantly said he would
go to talk to them. He did so, in
person, with his daughter Kim driving him over and waiting over half an hour as
They had come to complain to Ed Lubers about the drainage from their front yard being dammed up by the collapse of the culvert in my driveway under the weight of the heavy trucks, and told him they were annoyed that someone had ordered that their tree be removed. “What?” said Ed. Someone came and removed that dead tree that had already half fallen on your yard, only by some great good fortune missing the cars, for which the next half might not fall so luckily, and where is the problem?”
Not only did I never give anyone authorization to remove their tree, I had no communication about anything to anyone, and was not even here—but then, I am the one to be billed for all of this service?
I discussed this with Ed and Bev Lubers who filled in the story on the character of the Rubins and confirmed the events they had been watching in my absence, and they told me that it did not surprise him that they refused to pay for any services and were delighted to screw me with the full payment for their benefit. After all they had several freebies—first the county, and then the fellow next door who is entirely responsible for their tree—a fatuous misconception clearly stated in their carefully preserved note.
I asked Ed for advice. He confirmed but one recourse. I did not want to stir up the neighborhood, and might have been talked out of suing them if they were in anyway forthcoming, and had offered to settle this in some sensible way, but they are bristling with the best defense in an indefensible position—go on the offense: “Who said you could order someone to come in here and cut down our tree?” As if I do not have enough tree cutting expenses and am eager to send the crew around to clean up the neighbors dead ones!
Now, comes the critical background for motivation: The Rubins are associated with the Vander Harts who are no doubt enjoying this vicarious gouging in a big way. Recall that Dave Vander Hart was on Ed Lubers lawn within the hour July 3 when Ed mistakenly called what he thought was my number and got them; Dave wanted to work on the fallen July 3 tree branch to show he was such a good neighbor he did not even live here any more and would still help out—besides, he had been unfairly cut off from his unending supply of free firewood for his fireplace! So, you know that the Rubins were consulting with Vander harts from the beginning in orchestrating this little skirmish. Art Rubin is a retired psychologist from the NIST where he worked with Dave and they still go out for their only “night out” at the Olney Playhouse with season tickets with the Vander Harts in an otherwise reclusive homebound life. So, there is great pleasure on the part of the last people who failed in the last law suit against me, so maybe they can get a proxy battle going to exact some further costs from me.
I have taken heavy hits on the unexpected additional charges on my renovation project otherwise going along very well, with high quality, even if very high costs. I have had to cancel my Mindanao Medical Mission this year for the first time in four years as unaffordable, and I am leaving Sunday for a medical mission to Ethiopia and Somaliland; the cost of that mission for me and for four accompanying senior medical students, veterans of multiple mission trips with me, is, in sum, less than the pro-rated cost I have already unwittingly paid for the removal of the Rubins’ tree. I am quite willing to extend myself to help the needy, but not the greedy.
Therefore, I am meeting with Dan Kennedy to sue for recovery of the costs cleverly reallocated to me for the removal of a tree that in no way is my responsibility but has been engineered to gouge me further by the less reputable and former denizens of the neighborhood. I have been gouged enough, and there will be no more good sporting shots at me.
AND, NOW, ON
HAPPIER NOTES:
I PACK UP
JOE AND ALL THREE OF HIS KIDS,
IN THE
PRE-DAWN, TO DRIVE TO WOODBINE,
AND RUN THE
STEEP HILLS OF THE
BORDER OF
By prearrangement, Joe and I were planning to run the McDonnell’s Breakfast Run, an annual mid-winter cold weather event in the steep hill country at the border between Howard and Montgomery counties.
JOE AND I LISTEN TO PIONEERING ADVENTURES
IN DISTANT WARM PLACES IN THE HORN OF
BEFORE SETTING OUT ON A MUCH COLDER
ADVENTURE
OF OUR OWN IN A HARSH
When I pick up Joe usually, we talk about the
events of the week, and he tells me of his ParaOlympic goals which have had us
running with intermittent explosive speed work sprints (“fartlek”). We also listen to the books on tape as we
drive, and Joe was interested in the Civil War history in my “Grant and Lee: a
Dual Biography” when we ran the Turkey Chase in November, and subsequently he
had a narrated tour of Harper’s Ferry which he had hoped I might accompany
them—but that is when I was on the Eastern Shore for the traditional deer hunts
after Thanksgiving Day. Last week I was
listening to “Blackhawk Down” the unfortunate true adventure of US intervention in Somalia to get
humanitarian and food aid in between warlords to the starving people they were
exploiting—for reasons of my preparing for Somaliland. Adjacent to my area in
This time our commuting run was flavored by
one of the earliest explorers of the region to which I go—one of the greatest
adventurers, Arabists, linguists and polymaths of all time, when he went
through the Somaliland region, getting a spear through his cheeks for his
introduction to a prior generation of radical Islamic Somali warlords, and was
one of a handful to emerge of the hundreds of his expeditionary retinue, most
of which were killed, died of the disease plagues or deserted. But, Burton thrived on disaster, and went on
to discover both Lakes Tanganyika and A huge inland lake he named for his
Queen, Victoria—and thereby discovered the answer to the millennia-old mystery—the origin of the Nile
and its regular cycle of flooding that made Egyptian civilization
possible. The Nile he found was the
White Nile, whereas the other half of it that I will “discover” for myself
(having gone around and over the White Nile, choked with the vegetation known
as Nile Cabbages at the outlet from Lake Victoria flowing north through the Great Rift into the
‘Swamp” (= “Sudh”, therefore “Sudan”)
will be the Blue Nile. It originates in
the Ethiopian Highlands at
This time, there was to be a switch: Joe would have all of the kids, since Betty would be working for the morning at the YMCA. So, with the back seat of the Audi strapping in two toddlers, and the center seat anchoring a car seat in which was strapped the reluctant Michelle (the age of the twins, while Joseph Jr. is the age of Andrew William) we left to drive the 80 mile round trip to Woodbine, where the kids would play with the similarly aged children of Denis and Cristelle McDonnell, our hosts. Cristelle works with Betty at the Bethesda/Chevy Chase YMCA. So, the kids would be well looked after, and everyone would be well-fed upon the return by Joe and me to complete the run in the cold.
And, I mean cold. I now have the (dis) advantage of an outside temperature reading on the A-4’s computer screen, and it had been showing me around 25* all week in daytime, sinking to the teens after dark, which seems to be most of the time this mid-winter, with only a minute longer per day of daylight. This morning as I got up at 5:30 and made it down to Joe’s house, I noticed single digits, and when we bundled out to run the course, Kay Morrison came out to take a picture of us on the course for the Run Down—but her digital camera would not work, since it was too cold and the battery would not trip the shutter. We began the run at 6* F, but it warmed up by the time of our return 72 minutes later after the steep hills of our nine mile run---to 9* F.
FAREWELL—
HARD, COLD, LONELY AND SORROWFUL
But, it was a good time with Joe and family, and we did it well despite the elements. Next week at this same time, I will be heading out to a much warmer place—the Horn of Africa. It should be not only warmer, but busier, and further away from this world I know and the plans I had made for so many good things to come which may be quite different now than I had planned. I have been writing about what I can sadly see and know of the present and future regarding those quite different plans. On departure, I may send this long letter that was very hard for me to write, even if it is right—which says “Goodbye.”
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