With all due respect, I can't believe this. No one is forced out without compensation in eminent domain proceedings. Maybe they didn't cash the checks.
This is hardly the point. If they had agreed to sell, there would be a contract for the checks. If the government just sent checks and took possession of the property as an assumption, that's still theft.
A financial reality for you... money is only useful to purchase property. If you have no right to the property your purchase, your money is worth squat.
Here's your concern back at you... I'm sending you a check for $1.00. The bulldozers will be there in a few hours...
OK. Believe what you want. But before you make up your mind completely, perhaps you should read the article at the link below. It's quite lengthy, but if you look at the sections I've quoted below, you'll get the general idea. These people were evicted, their homes were bulldozed, and the legal battle is still ongoing.
It's ok. You can say it. Go ahead. It'll make you feel better. Just say, "I apologize. I was wrong."
Homeowners suing Hurst in mall seizure
HURST, Texas (AP) - Richland Park East's final days as a neighborhood were strange days indeed. Luretta Laue spent them shooing away salvagers. Phyllis Duval dug up her day lilies and tended to her dying husband. Bulldozers trolled deserted streets; at night, looters with metal detectors scavenged by the glow of miracle-mile neon.
Then there were the guys from the Water Department who were forcing their way into 1253 West Cheryl Ave. to rip out a meter when Doris Lopez appeared from within. ``Hey,'' she told them. ``I still live here.''
But by and by, a problem surfaced. Ten problems, actually. Problems with names. People who refused buyout offers - who didn't believe that Orange Juliuses should replace living rooms, that bed and bath should yield to Bed, Bath and Beyond.
They sued. A state judge agreed in May to allow the demolitions, and the residents appealed. After eight months of legal maneuverings, their appeal is pending.
Only one problem: The homes were demolished as scheduled in May and June.
``But clearly this is a highly developed regional area,'' he says. ``I'm not saying people should or shouldn't want to live there, but the commercial development and traffic is a fact. (And) part of this is the good of the many outweigh the good of the few.''
``This is my house,'' says Phyllis Duval. Then she eyes the mud and divots at her feet and rethinks. ``This,'' she amends, ``is where my house was.''
The 10 holdouts say they'll fight on - against Hurst, against Simon DeBartolo, against the idea that this could happen. For them, it is a sad, symbolic resistance - and one that may well happen again elsewhere.