Homeowner’s associations can help to keep an area nice, but this only works if the people running it are doing their job properly.

What would you do if the HOA president in your area was abusive and didn’t keep things the way they should be?

That is what happened to the resident in this story, so he joined the HOA board himself and gathered evidence about everything the president was doing wrong.

Let’s see how the story plays out.

The HOA President’s Long Goodbye

When I moved into my suburban neighborhood, I expected peace and quiet.

Instead, I walked into a petty dictatorship run by our HOA president, Todd.

Todd was the worst kind of leader: the kind who loved power but hated accountability.

He enforced ridiculous rules—like fining people $200 for leaving their trash cans out a minute past 9:00 AM—but blatantly ignored the rules when it suited him.

His own yard was a mess of unpermitted structures, and his fence was taller than allowed by city ordinances.

This is a big problem.

But Todd’s true sin? Using the HOA as his personal piggy bank.

At first, I tried reasoning with him.

My fence was slightly off-color because the approved stain wasn’t available, and he fined me $500.

I explained, provided receipts, and asked for leniency.

Todd smirked, said, “Rules are rules,” and walked away.

He wasn’t going to let Todd get away with it.

That’s when I decided I would take him down—not with screaming or public arguments, but methodically, legally, and in a way he’d never recover from.

Step One: Become the Inside Man

Todd’s first mistake was underestimating me.

I volunteered for the HOA board under the guise of wanting to “get involved in the community.”

I played the part of the eager, naïve newbie perfectly.

I bet he learned a lot.

For two years, I attended every meeting, quietly observing how Todd operated.

I learned he controlled the board by bullying other members and burying them in paperwork.

He’d push through votes when only his allies were present and conveniently “lose” paperwork submitted by dissenting homeowners.

I kept my head down, took detailed notes, and waited.

My goal was to outlast his term as president so I could begin making changes.

Todd was much more than a bully.

Then I discovered Todd’s second mistake: he wasn’t just a bully; he was a thief.

Step Two: Follow the Money

Todd loved to brag about how he kept the HOA’s finances in order. But something didn’t add up.

The annual HOA fees were high—much higher than in similar neighborhoods—but the common areas were falling apart.

The pool was closed half the summer due to “maintenance issues,” and the landscaping looked like it hadn’t been touched in months.

I started digging.

Todd didn’t want to share the financial records.

As the HOA treasurer, Todd had access to all the accounts, but he was notoriously cagey about sharing financial details.

I asked for the budget during a meeting, and Todd laughed it off, saying, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it under control.”

I filed a formal request for the financial records, which, under HOA rules, he was required to provide.

He is going to try to ignore the request.

Weeks went by with no response. That’s when I started talking to neighbors.

Turns out, I wasn’t the only one suspicious.

Over a dozen homeowners had requested access to the budget over the years, only to be ignored.

One neighbor claimed Todd had used HOA funds to install a new patio at his house, while another swore he’d seen Todd’s kids at the community pool during its “maintenance closure.”

Todd has to share the records now.

Armed with these suspicions, I filed a formal complaint with the HOA board, forcing Todd to provide the records.

He stalled, but I wasn’t backing down.

Step Three: Build the Case

When Todd finally handed over the financial documents, they were a mess.

Invoices were missing, payments were mislabeled, and some expenses were downright bizarre.

Very suspicious.

A $15,000 “landscaping fee” paid to a company that didn’t exist.

Thousands spent on “administrative costs” with no explanation.

I cross-referenced the HOA’s bank statements with public records and found the smoking gun: Todd was funneling money to his personal accounts.

Even better, I discovered Todd had been inflating contractor fees, pocketing the difference, and splitting the profits with his buddy, a shady contractor who “handled” most of the HOA’s maintenance.

He organized the evidence.

I compiled everything into a detailed report, complete with spreadsheets, photos, and notarized statements from neighbors who had seen Todd’s antics firsthand.

Step Four: The Coup

I waited for the annual HOA meeting, which was typically a snooze fest attended by only a handful of homeowners.

But this time, I made sure people showed up.

I spent weeks knocking on doors, explaining what Todd had been up to.

I didn’t share everything—just enough to get people angry and curious.

The whole neighborhood showed up.

On the night of the meeting, the room was packed.

Todd started the meeting like usual, droning on about how “difficult” it was to manage the HOA and how much he’d sacrificed for the community.

That’s when I stood up.

I calmly asked if he could explain some discrepancies in the budget.

Todd tried to get out of it.

Todd laughed nervously and said, “I don’t think this is the time or place.”

I replied, “Actually, Todd, it’s the perfect time.”

I handed out copies of my report to everyone in the room.

The mood shifted instantly.

I can imagine they were very upset.

People started reading, whispering, and then shouting.

Todd tried to regain control, but it was too late.

I called for a vote to remove him as president.

By the end of the night, Todd was out.

Todd really messed up.

Step Five: The Final Blow

After Todd was removed, we hired an independent auditor to go through the HOA’s finances.

They confirmed everything: Todd had embezzled over $50,000, mismanaged tens of thousands more, and committed multiple counts of fraud.

I hope they are able to get the money back, but I doubt it.

We reported him to the police and filed a civil lawsuit to recover the stolen funds.

But it didn’t end there.

Todd’s shady contractor buddy was also exposed and banned from doing business in the county.

Todd had to sell his house to pay restitution and legal fees.

His name became a running joke in the neighborhood, and no one would touch him professionally.

With Todd gone, we restructured the HOA to prevent another dictator from taking over.

This is a much better way of handling things.

We implemented term limits, required multiple board members to approve financial decisions, and created an online portal so all homeowners could access budgets and meeting minutes.

The Aftermath

Every time I walk past Todd’s old house, now owned by a lovely family, I smile.

The pool is open, the landscaping is beautiful, and the HOA fees are lower than ever.

Todd, meanwhile, moved to a neighboring town, where he reportedly tried to join another HOA board—only to be laughed out of the room when someone Googled his name.

Justice wasn’t just served; it was plated, garnished, and savored.

The president dug a huge hole, this guy threw the dirt on top.

Let’s see what the people in the comments on Reddit say about it.

Absolutely, it is dumb not to have term limits.

This guy is a hero.

The way they improved the HOA is inspiring.

This person used to manage a large Coop Board.

He does belong in jail.

He is going to be in a lot of trouble.

If you liked that story, check out this post about an oblivious CEO who tells a web developer to “act his wage”… and it results in 30% of the workforce being laid off.