I bought my dream home with a creek in the backyard—then the locals started a war
When a Colorado woman bought her dream home on a quiet, rural spot with a creek running through the backyard, she thought she hit the jackpot. Instead, she was soon dubbed the “Wicked Witch of the West” by locals and had to fight the government for ownership.
Taralyn Romero tells Realtor.com? she had her “American dream shattered and your rose-colored glasses punched off your face” when local residents started crowding in her backyard to use the creek.
Then, she was sued by Jefferson County commissioners for ownership of the land, claiming adverse possession, accretion, and public use via prescriptive easement.
In January 2021, Romero says she and her fiancé were “spit out into the housing crisis” when their landlord decided to move into their rental. They decided to buy instead at a time when bidding wars were rampant.
“It was chaos to even get in to see a house,” she says.
After a month searching for their forever home, they instantly fell in love with a five-bedroom home in Kittredge, CO, on less than an acre of land.
“The first line of the listing said it had a creek going through the backyard. The house was right next to a park and had lots of character,” Romero tells Realtor.com
Romero bid $840,000—$40,000 over the asking price—and later that night, the offer was accepted.
“We felt so blessed,” she says.
They did their due diligence by securing an appraisal, title insurance, and an Improvement Location Certificate. Then they waited for move-in day.
Dream becomes a nightmare
Not long after Romero and her fiancé got the keys, they noticed a few people fishing in their backyard creek—which they initially considered no big deal.
After all, their property wasn’t yet fenced, but they planned to put one up in the next few months.
But before they could erect it, swarms of locals began to descend on the creek once school let out for summer.
“I was like, ‘Why are 55 people bringing lawn chairs, coolers, snacks, and beach umbrellas into my backyard to hang out all day?’” Romero says. “It was bewildering.”
She found out that many of these people had been coming to the creek for 35 years.
The home’s previous owners had apparently given the public permission to do so—but that was never once mentioned to Romero and her fiancé when they’d purchased the home just months earlier.
Romero was instantly worried about liability if something happened on her property.
“With a lot of little kids, a lot of beer, and a lot of moms on their phones, it was a recipe for disaster,” she says.
After attempting to peacefully share the property with locals, only for it to be totally trashed, Romero eventually put up “No Trespassing” signs.
But the signs enraged the locals, with many calling her a nasty woman, a land thief, and even the Wicked Witch of the West.
Many people believed the creek was part of the park, and they were outraged she was trying to stop them from using it. Some even began yelling at Romero and snapping trees in protest.
Reaching out to city officials
Romero called the city to try to get things straightened out.
“Your park visitors are on my private property, and I’m liable for them—we’ve got a problem,” she recalls telling county officials.
They said they would research the matter—but soon hit her with a lawsuit instead.
Jefferson County commissioners sued Romero in 2022 for ownership of the land, claiming adverse possession, accretion, and public use via prescriptive easement.
“The government went after me to take my property because the community believed it should be theirs,” says Romero.
“The government should say ‘Our survey says it’s hers—we don’t care what you believe, because it’s private property and we believe in private property rights.’ But they teamed up with the bullies instead,” adds Romero.
TikTok to the rescue
Fed up and fired up, Romero took to TikTok, cheekily calling herself the “Wicked Witch of the West.”
As she began documenting her “real-life Salem witch trial,” she gained more than 241,000 followers—with her videos amassing millions of views.
Not only did social media get her story more exposure, Romero says, it also “attracted the helpers—the people all over the world who ended up writing the commissioners, attending meetings virtually, and making phone calls on my behalf.”
After a long, hard battle, Romero’s lawsuit with the county was settled in May 2023.
Romero agreed to sell 0.099 acres of her land, including part of the creek, to the county for $250,000—and it’s now officially part of Kittredge Park.
The county erected a fence along the newly established property line and stretched a rope over the water to divide the public area from Romero’s private property.
Meanwhile, Romero retained 70% of her land and kept part of the creek.
“It was a win for me, and a win for the community,” says Romero.
Romero then filed a separate lawsuit against the previous property owners for alleged fraud and for not disclosing public use or the government’s claim of ownership of the land.
After the case went to mediation, the former owners offered a public apology and the dispute was settled under confidential terms.
No longer the same
The feeling of having your “American dream shattered and your rose-colored glasses punched off your face” is something Romero says is extremely hard to describe.
“My faith in facts making a difference in this world was thrown away,” she explains. “It changed my worldview.”
Romero’s unfortunately now a real-life example of how your property can be threatened, jeopardized, or even taken away.
“I still constantly have nightmares where I’m guarding the creek and defending the line,” she says. “The experience was that traumatic.”
Lately, Romero has been helping individuals who find themselves in similar circumstances.
Good people often “want to be diplomatic and kind, even when someone is coming for their property, but that got me absolutely nowhere,” she says. “That got me run over.”
If something like this does happen to you, Romero recommends you “buckle up, lean in, and remember that you are at war.”
However, you also “have to be willing to come to the table to negotiate a deal,” she says. That means being a fighter and a fence-mender simultaneously.
Situations like hers “undermine the buying and selling process, and have huge implications for the entire real estate industry,” she adds.
That’s why it was important for her to fight for what she believes was right—and why she urges others to do the same.
Having no regrets
Days after her lawsuit with the county was settled, Romero found a sticky note with the word “fair” in a child’s handwriting hanging on a tree branch near the creek.
“I grabbed it, and it’s hanging on the computer monitor in my office now and forever,” says Romero.
