As I pulled into my driveway, I knew something was wrong. The fifty-year-old apple tree my grandparents had planted was gone. There was nothing but a splintered stump. I marched next door and pounded on the door. My neighbor, Faye, answered with a glass of wine in her hand. "What did you do to my tree?!" I screamed. She calmly took a sip and said, "We had it taken down. You're welcome." She had no idea just how expensive that little mistake would be. That apple tree wasn’t just a tree. It was hi

Because my neighbors wanted sunlight for a hot tub, they cut down the apple tree my grandparents planted 50 years ago. I’m a 35-year-old woman living in my grandparents’ old house. The apple tree, a family heirloom from my grandfather’s orchard, was my joy. Childhood was filled with climbing it, apple picking, and enjoying its shade. It was never just a tree. A short time after Brad (40s) and Karen (38) moved in, they asked for its removal. Karen: "YOUR TREE BLOCKS OUR LIGHT. WE NEED SPACE FOR A