The scandal that
people are still talking about in Boulder, Colo., isn’t the
murder of child beauty queen JonBenet Ramsey; it’s about a
rich couple “stealing” land from their neighbors — and
getting away with it in court. The latest tidbit involving Dick
McLean, a former Boulder Mayor and district court judge, and his
wife, an attorney, was revealed recently by local police. It seems
that in December, someone sent the couple a package enclosing
bullets and a threatening letter (“Back in the old West we
had a way to deal with your kind…”).
Police
said they’ve gotten nowhere on finding the perpetrator, but
as a sign of how contentious the issue remains, several online
commentators in the Boulder Daily Camera insisted that the couple
had sent the package to themselves to garner sympathy.
You might wonder why this story about a pricey lot on the
ironically named Hardscrabble Drive could rouse such passion. But
the land, surrounded by publicly owned open space and spectacular
mountain views, is one of the few remaining undeveloped parcels in
the neighborhood, where homes sell upwards of $1.2 million. Don and
Susie Kirlin have owned the lot since the mid-1980s as part of
their retirement plan. In the meantime, they live less than a
half-mile away.
Like lots of property owners, the Kirlins
had never heard of the legal doctrine known as adverse possession
before it struck home. Throughout history, the law has helped
squatters to acquire homes and farmers and ranchers to gain title
from absentee owners. In contemporary times, it’s most often
invoked to settle boundary disputes where walls and fences encroach
on neighboring land.
In Colorado, the law permits
trespassers to claim land without compensation if they use it
openly and continuously for at least 18 years without the
permission of the owners. McLean and Stevens argued in court that
they were more “attached” to the vacant lot than the
legal title holders, because they’d used the land for 20
years to access their backyard, throw parties and store firewood.
They claimed the use created a trail dubbed “Edie’s
Path,” which was key to their suit. A judge ruled in their
favor last October, awarding them a swath 80 feet wide, and this
made the remainder of the lot almost impossible to build upon.
The case ignited a firestorm in the blogosphere and
newspaper editorial pages with accusations of political cronyism
and abuse of the law. In November, a crowd of 200 protesters
flocked to the vacant lot, holding signs with slogans like
“You’ll never enjoy a stolen view,” and
“McLean is insane.” And once, when McLean and Stevens
pulled out of their driveway, a woman rushed their car shouting,
“Thief,” “Liar,” and, “How can you
live with yourself?”
Stevens has said she felt
beleaguered by the public outcry. Yet even longtime political
allies are distancing themselves. State Rep. Claire Levy, whose
campaign treasurer was none other than Edie Stevens, was reluctant
to speak out on the case, but pressured by some of her
constituents, Levy has sponsored a bill that revises the adverse
possession law.
Her “Land Grab” bill requires
trespassers to prove that they acted in good faith, believing the
land was theirs, and it allows judges to require payment for any
land awarded. In February, the bill advanced to the full House
after receiving unanimous approval from the Judiciary Committee.
If passed, the bill will come too late for the Kirlins,
though they have filed a motion to reconsider the ruling on their
case, stating that McLean and Stevens fabricated evidence. The
Kirlins have presented an aerial photograph from 2006 that they say
shows no path. They also have an affidavit from a surveyor stating
he felt pressured by a superior to draw “Edie’s
Path” on a survey, when he had never observed such a path.
The former judge and attorney deny any wrongdoing.
Even
if they win the battle, McLean and Stevens are still losers. They
used their knowledge of the law to take something of great value
from their neighbors, and like it or not, the two have become
symbols of greed and immorality. As the years go by, I picture
Edie’s Path falling into disuse as former friends create
excuses to decline invitations to backyard parties. I envision
glares from neighbors, stares from passersby. What I can’t
imagine is how it could have been worth it.
Monique Cole is a contributor to Writers on the Range, a
service of High Country News (hcn.org). She
freelances in Boulder, Colorado.
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