What's an editor to do when the news is in his back yard?

First, let me say that I did not poison that tree.

Secondly, let me say that I usually know a good story when I see one.

But the Case of the Poisoned Pine Tree, a tale I've enthusiastically passed along to family and friends, and one that has unfolded practically in my back yard, flew under this journalist's radar.

It would have remained one of no doubt hundreds of amusing/maddening/hate-mongering episodes that occur within the confines of subdivisions and the homeowners associations that run them. But along came the key that unlocks such a neighborhood tiff from a private matter to one in the public domain -- a lawsuit.

It was filed in DuPage Circuit Court when a bunch of key people (such as our courts reporter and me) were on vacation. But an eagle-eyed reporter for one of those annoying downtown newspapers spotted the lawsuit and quickly saw it had all the trappings of a good yarn: People getting up in arms over things others might consider petty; police investigations; environmental catastrophe; allegations of financial malfeasance; name-calling and other nefarious stuff. But the lawsuit, I'm presuming, tipped the other newspaper to a spat that likely would have remained our secret. The story ran on one of its front pages this week.

It chronicled how one of my neighbors had asked the homeowners association for permission to take down a tree blocking his view of the golf course from his deck. I was one of two other people who signed his petition, figuring, what the heck, a guy ought to have a right to an unobstructed view of the golf course. When the homeowners board denied the petition, with no explanation, I felt sympathy for my neighbor, but figured the cause was lost.

Sometime during the winter or spring, the tree died, an apparent poisoning victim, given the hole discovered in it, a trail of dead grass leading to the pond guarding the ninth hole and a few dead fish.

That prompted the homeowners board to issue a threatening-sounding letter informing residents: A police investigation was under way; a $250 reward was being offered to bring the perp to justice; the golf course superintendent was concerned about possible environmental damage; the association would spend up to $5,000 to replace the tree.

That prompted another neighbor to send everyone a letter decrying the board's heavy-handedness, complaining that when another tree, far more visible to far more homeowners, died, it was replaced with a shrub that couldn't have cost more than a few hundred bucks.

Then came the lawsuit, seeking to block replacement of the poisoned tree, which allegedly was planted in violation a subdivision rule that forbids things from being planted within 30 feet of a home with a golf course view. The matter has been slated for a Nov. 2 court hearing.

So there you have it. Pretty good story, I'll have to admit. I've known all these details for months, except for the lawsuit, and could have put a reporter on this at any time. But it seemed like such a parochial, and perhaps not uncommon, set-to, I was never compelled to take action. Plus, I'll readily admit I was afraid I might have become the neighborhood pariah if I had been the guy to make our squabble a public affair.

So, from this time forward, we will cover all news that develops in the saga. Which begs the question:

If a tree falls near an editor's back yard ...