My domestic tranquility would be exceedingly pristine were it not for the monstrosity that happens almost daily across the street from my home.

I’m speaking of THE DEVELOPMENT.

A little background is in order.

When we first purchased our house, we were ignorant to the fact that some shrewd property owners (who happen to be heavy hitters in politics and government) had, almost 20 years ago, had a portion of their property (4-ish acres) zoned high density residential. Had we known this, we might have reconsidered our purchase, but we did not do the proper homework. Regardless, we love our house, neighborhood, etc. And we really loved the 4-acre forest we saw each day as we left our front door.

This is Atlanta. We must remember that we NEED higher density living. Traffic, smog and feeble public transit can only be helped with the introduction of some density in our city. We also must remember that one of the only assets our city can boast that most other cities lack is an extraordinary canopy of green that beautifies and really creates the feel of our neighborhoods.

That being said, I was always torn about this development. On one hand, I was very pleased as I believe that, if the developers and property owners are being truthful and the price range they have set is supported by the market, that the development will enhance the property value of the surrounding houses. On the other hand, I returned from a trip to Portland a year ago and saw this:

The lot was clear-cut. The arborist for the city didn’t even know that law REQUIRED the developer to have a replanting plan. The only trees they left, for the most part, were the ones they were required to by law—a law which our neighbor had to inform them of because Atlanta’s arborist didn’t even know about it. It was just an absolutely crude, graceless and terrible affair all around. Some of the neighbors fought the development, but the land was too expensive, the plans too entrenched. There was nothing to be done, despite their best efforts. It was too late. Coming soon: 30 town homes from the high 200’s.

We were allowed to take a look at the plans. Of course, the people who owned the property originally, and are rumored to have some financial interest in the development, have a nice buffer of trees between their house (which is considered “the mansion” of East Lake) and the development. They also lied to us and told us that their would be two entrance/exits so that traffic could flow through. Instead, the only entrance/exit is in front of our driveway on a blind curve on a street where, despite the 35mph speed limit, I am repeatedly nearly killed when I try to pull out of my driveway.

The plans also do not back up the fact that these are supposedly “family-oriented” units. Where will the children play? The plans indicate that just about every square yard will be covered by driveways and dwellings. The nearest park is on the other side of a very busy road—a road which the DOT, wants to widen to 4 or 5 lanes. I can understand that the developer is trying to maximize his profits by squeezing as many units in as possible, but that’s a serious quality of life issue.

Like I said earlier, it’s been well over a year now. The earth moving machines shook our entire house for months. They destroyed the road. Cracks developed in some of my foundation and cement. Truck noise. Dust and dirt like you wouldn’t believe. At one point, my white car looked maroon from all the filth. When they ground up all the trees, my allergies were so severe that I felt like I had the flu. We’ve found workers in our yard filling buckets from the hose attached to our house. It’s been miserable —and they still haven’t hammered nail one. It’s just a muddy, disgusting, gaping maw sitting in plain view with a snails-pace trajectory. And don’t forget the metal plates.

The metal plates that covered the chasm in the road that woke us multiple times per night when traffic moved over them. The plates that slid off to expose the 6 feet deep chasm which claimed my housemate’s car one night.

The developer, Mike Embry, blamed United Water and its contractors. That may be the case. He seems like a nice guy, but he sure hasn’t made any effort to alleviate our suffering or even “make things right”—not even a kind or empathetic word. He never offered to pay for a car wash, despite the fact that HIS work was making it impossible to keep our cars (heck, even our house) clean for more than an 8 hour period.

“Call the waaaahbulance,” you say?

I would have said it too. But now that I’ve been shaken from my vibrating bed, startled awake by the clak-clak of the metal plates, watched my cement steps crumble as the trucks shake my house, listened to enough dumptruck traffic to have worked at a rock quary, and been leered at by burly men carting water from MY yard, I’ve grown very weary.

I just want it done already so I can start bitching about all of the traffic!