Days ago, friends faced off with our local Code Enforcement. If you’re not familiar with this form of government overreach, it’s like a steroidal HOA (homeowners association), where a few people relish telling other people what to do. Hey, I’m somewhat of a maven on the subject, which is about as glorious as a rancher hitching up his trousers and saying, “Why yes, Little Missy, I am an expert on cattle bloat. You must read my dissertation on Guernsey rumenectomy.”
 |
| Photo of Code Enforcement Clerk |
Meanwhile back at the ranch, my friends stumbled upon a lien filed on their property to the tune of $45,000 and ever increasing. Lambs in the woods and babes to the slaughter they were. They phoned Code Enforcement innocently asking what they must do, much like asking a Big Bad Wolf where to buy your building materials. They said, “Pay the fines and interests and liens and anything else we can dream up.” Yeah, they said that, more or less.
“No,” said I. “No, no, no,” said other friends, some which have had direct experience with the agency. “Code Enforcement is not your friend,” we told them. “Don’t pay the lien. Take it before the board. Take it before their magistrate. You might pay a few hundred dollars, but you won’t pay tens of thousands.”
I volunteered to go before the board. Armed with a limited power of attorney, I was willing to do battle. This offer wasn’t without a plan.
My friends had done something unusual, they’d saved every bit of mail going back decades. They hired a investigative bookkeeper to unbundle those boxes of mail searching for Code Enforcement communications. None. Not one whit. In particular, I enquired about proof of service. None. Not a scrap in evidence.
Consider me unsurprised. I’d been dealing with County Code Enforcement a long time. They almost demolished a house twice while pretending they were victims of a computer error. Funny… The signature on the demo order looked awfully human-like.
I learned some of their tricks. Statutes offer a substitute service option of ‘publishing’, i.e, inserting a notice in a local paper. Our local newspaper is The Orlando Sentinel, but funny thing: certain county departments routinely published in the Heritage Florida Jewish News in Fern Park. The county claimed that saved taxpayers money. The rest of us had a darker hypothesis. However, thanks to saving all their mail, my friends found themselves in the unique position of proving a negative.
Code Enforcement hadn’t come up with proof of service, so I felt more confident than ever. “You’re in a great position,” I said. But… have you had a friend who asked your advice but invariably did the opposite? Well, these are them.
They said, “That’s not what the nice Code Enforcement lady told us to do.”
“Code Enforcement is not your friend,” I repeated. “You’re asking your cellmate why you need an extra bar of soap.”
My brilliant combination of mangled metaphors did not deter them. I’m devastated to report they didn’t request an appearance before the Board or the CEB magistrate. They paid the full amount. A party erupted. “Whoopie, we got a live one!” celebrating their windfall could be heard in Alligator Alley. I feel horrible.
Now that I got that off my chest, I confess this has been a buildup to write about process service– or the lack thereof. See you next time.
