“The claim that these facts established the permanent legal rights the plaintiff now demands.”
David opened the folder.
“I’d like to begin with the recorded plat.”
He submitted the 1971 county map.
A copy went to the opposing attorney.
Another was placed before the judge.
David directed her attention to the southwest quadrant.
He explained the boundaries.
The farm estate.
The Cedarwood Ridge subdivision.
The road corridor.
He pointed out that the pavement lay within the farm parcel, outside the subdivision’s recorded boundary.
The judge examined the lines.
“Is there a recorded dedication of this road to the association?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Any recorded express easement?”
“None identified in the title chain.”
She turned toward the plaintiff’s attorney.
“Counsel, do you dispute the underlying ownership shown on the recorded plat?”
He stood.
“Your Honor, we recognize that prescriptive easement rights may exist over land owned by another party.”
“Certainly. But do you dispute the fee title?”
He looked down at the map.
“Not on the evidence presently before the court.”
The judge nodded.
“Then ownership and easement rights remain separate questions.”
“Exactly, Your Honor.”
David waited until the attorney sat.
Then he said, “And that leads directly to the issue of permission.”
He took a single sheet of paper from the folder.
Even from my seat, I recognized the old letterhead.
The judge accepted the exhibit after David laid out its origin and authentication.
A copy was given to the plaintiff’s attorney.
I watched him pick it up.
He looked at the date.
1994\.
Then at the sender.
The former owner of the farm estate.
Then at the body.
His eyes stopped moving.
He read it again.
Margaret leaned forward from the gallery.
She couldn’t see the words.
But she could see something had changed.
David spoke.
“Your Honor, this letter was sent by the prior landowner to the association’s predecessor board. It specifically authorizes continued use of the road, conditioned on maintenance.”
The judge looked down.
She read the sentence into the record.
“You may continue using the road as you have been, with my permission, provided you maintain it.”
The courtroom went silent.
Not figuratively.
I could hear the fluorescent lights above us.
A chair shifted in the gallery.
