Chapter Three

Something kept me from posting Chapter Three. I tried a couple of times and it didn't work so I stopped.
It was a sign, perhaps.
I knew I did not want to post all bazillion emails I sent to the town, the town's lawyer, the newspapers, secretary of state, politicians, governor, and myself. I wanted to post the 2 responses I got, one promising to send me proof I was contacted (never received) and an apology from the lawyer who had a conflict of interest but still made $1,000 while we did not have Christmas that year. But I cannot.
Suffice it to say these things happened. And if you do not believe me, seeing the letters won't convince you anyway.
The data I wanted to post were all mysteriously hijacked by adobe and un-paste-able in these posts.
No, it is not like the dog ate my homework.
It is indeed more of the mystery of the stranger than fiction reality of property tax lien sales.
Hard to define, explain, track down.
Impossible, it seems, to reform, call attention to and correct.
The German ancestors crying in their sleep about the dollars wasted here being mined or milked by taxmen, lawyers and carpetbaggers.
Can someone wake and see the tide of incivility where a quaint little town like this sleepy camelot might threaten a girl's property and not see fit to talk to her, know who she is, what she is fighting?
It all sounds so unreal that I know I risk losing more readers to games, shopping, or baking cookies.
So Chapter Three will be short and sweet. A promise of more data as I can collate it,
and other experiences to demonstrate my demands for reform every day that I live on this travelogue of life.
mary gerdt, monkton, vermont