A Joyful Correction to the Record:
To anyone paying attention — including the court and those trying to twist the truth —
let this be known:
The emergency vehicles that were supposedly “unable to access” our lands?
They just drove by. Smoothly. Efficiently. No problem at all.
They reached us all like they always have — like they always could.
The fraction of a claim made against us, saying our land was somehow blocking or making anothers inaccessible?
That was a lie. A legal fiction. A fear tactic.
But today, the Rural Metro Fire Department proved what we already knew:
Our lands are accessible. Our lands are visible. Our lands are protected.
And I’m not just relieved —
I’m in tears of gratitude.
Tears for the Rural Metro Team who showed up, not with sirens, but with truth.
Tears for the fact that something finally went right.
Tears for the joy of being able to say it out loud and be believed.
So to the liars who keep spinning stories,
and to the court who’s still learning what’s really going on —
watch the road, see the access, and listen to the silence of your claim falling apart.
To Rural Metro:
You have no idea what your simple pass-through meant to us today.
From the bottom of our hearts — thank you. Thank you for showing up.
Thank you for driving forward, when others only pushed back.
Today, I cry not in anger —
but in vindication.
—
CK Kirton-Niner
Proud Creekers.
Still standing tall, together.
The Moment That Said It All — Quietly.
It was perfect.
Rural Metro showed up — no sirens, no lights, just steady presence.
And as they drove past our properties, they turned around
right in front of the neighbor who tore down the saguaros.
I just stood there thinking:
Yay.
This is what it looks like when truth speaks without raising its voice.
He saw it. I saw it.
And maybe for the first time, he felt what I’ve felt for years —
watched. Accountable. Not in control.
I’ve been trying to report what he did — to the saguaros, to the land, to the peace of this neighborhood —
but nobody’s taken it seriously since the whole mess with Mark.
It’s hard to be taken seriously after someone like that attaches themselves to your name and drags it through the dust.
But I haven’t stopped telling the truth.
And I’m not going to.
Because one of these days, I will find the right person to hear me —
the right official, the right agency, the right moment.
Yesterday gave me hope.
No sirens, no noise — just quiet confirmation that I’m not crazy,
that this land can be seen, and that maybe justice is finally circling back around.
So yeah — karma doesn’t always come in loud.
Sometimes it rolls by in a firetruck, turns around slow, and lets everybody know:
We’re watching now.