The meaning of the word “villain” is ingrained in most of us from the first time we hear the phrase “Once upon a time.” And in storybooks, like Frank L. Baum’s The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, the line between hero and villain is clear. Readers never once question that Dorothy is our heroine and the Wicked Witch of the West, the villain.
But what if there is more to the hero/villain dynamic than meets the eye? This is the question Gregory Maguire explores in his book—later one of the most successful Broadway musicals of all time—Wicked. In Maguire’s story, we learn that the alleged “Wicked Witch of the West,” whose real name is Elphaba, was never wicked at all. It was only after she dared to stand up to the corrupt government of Oz that she found herself vilified by the Wizard, who twisted the truth to turn the people of Oz against her. From that moment on, Elphaba was forever branded as the “The Wicked Witch of the West.”
The land of Oz is, of course, fictional. But for one woman in Colorado, the story possesses some striking parallels to real life. Like Elphaba, Taralyn Romero was vilified by an entire community when she refused to let the government trample on her property rights, resulting in her neighbors dubbing her their very own “Wicked Witch of the West.”
It was love at first sight when Taralyn Romero saw the property she would later buy in Kittredge, Colorado. The breathtaking mountain views, the trees, the beloved Bear Creek that ran behind her property—it was all something out of a picturesque travel magazine enticing readers to come pay a visit.
Her dream of a smalltown sanctuary soon morphed into a nightmare when the town turned against her for daring to defend her protected property rights. The conflict would later escalate to a point where Taralyn found herself in an ugly legal battle against the County.
A born and bred Coloradan, Taralyn loves her state and can’t imagine living anywhere else. When the pandemic hit, she decided to move out of her Denver high-rise apartment and find a quiet place in the country where she, her fiancé, and his daughter could be surrounded by nature.
Not long after they settled into the property, she noticed a constant flow of people into her backyard, which backed right up to Bear Creek. Wanting to give these trespassers the benefit of the doubt, she assumed this was merely an honest mistake. After all, her property was near a public park and the popular creek.
When it kept happening, however, she needed answers. Taralyn discovered that the previous owners had allowed visitors to access the land. In fact, for many of the thousand people who live in Kittredge, the private land right next to Bear Creek had long been treated like communal property.
None of this information had been conveyed to Taralyn when she purchased the land.
It wasn’t an ideal situation, but Taralyn wasn’t going to make a fuss and tell the people to leave. She was new in town and some of the visitors had driven over 90 minutes to spend time near the creek.
Her generosity was soon put to the test.
Much to her dismay, the visitors who claimed to love the land did not respect it. Trash was often left behind, and the vegetation was damaged by animals and children who were constantly digging holes in the ground. There were also liability concerns. This was private, not public, land. If anyone were to be hurt on her property, she would be held responsible, whether she wanted them there or not.
Even still, she did not tell people to leave. Instead, she put up “No digging” signs, hoping it would solve the problem. It wasn’t enough. When she saw several children ignoring the signs, she asked them to stop. The grandmother who was with the kids became hostile at this request.
This was the beginning of a town-wide campaign to frame Taralyn as the “Wicked Witch of the West.”
Gossip spread like wildfire as local community groups on Facebook and apps like Nextdoor began buzzing with horror stories of run-ins with Taralyn. There were tall tales of Taralyn screaming and sending her dogs after people. They called her despicable names and accused her of being a rich outsider who had moved into town to steal this beloved land from the community. (Nothing could be further from the truth.) They even claimed her “No digging” sign was an act of vandalism.
It would seem that in Kittredge, asking visitors to respect the land was an unspeakable act.
The online gossip spilled over into the real world, with the community launching a full-fledged war against Taralyn. They continued to trespass on her land, hurling insults and threats, which Taralyn captured on video. She was even told that her food had been spit on when she dined at restaurants in town.
The community was relentless and no one allowed her to tell her side of the story. They had made up their minds: Taralyn was the villain.
The situation grew from bad to worse when the government got involved.
The County wanted her land. Taralyn told them via email that she would be willing to lease her land to the County for what she described as “basically free.” She didn’t want to lead with a specific dollar amount until she received an reply, but it was her intent to lease it for $1—the same amount Evergreen Park and Rec leases the Jefferson County-owned land for each year. The County never responded to her email.
The County later offered to buy her backyard for $75K. She had no desire to share her property with what she described as a “waterpark.” She told them she would sell, but they would have to purchase her entire property so she could remove herself from the entire situation.
The two parties could not reach an agreement. In a complete disregard for Taralyn’s constitutional property rights, the Board of County Commissioners sued her for access to her land. They argued that because the past owners had allowed the public on their land for so long, it should be open to public use, something Taralyn was never made aware of when she bought the property. Had she known, she may not have purchased the land.
In the lawsuit, the County alleged, “Members of the public and neighborhood adults specifically used that area for themselves and their families to access the creek. Families and neighbors recall with fondness children playing in the sand and the creek bed daily over the warmest months of the year.”
A person’s fondness and want of another person’s private property is not grounds for violating a constitutional right. Worse still were the lies the County asserted in their claim. The County wrote that Taralyn and her fiancé acted with “aggression and intimidation towards Park visitors and children.” Oddly enough, the County failed to mention the harassment and aggression community members engaged in—something that videos taken by Taralyn clearly show.
Taralyn felt completely powerless. This small, tight-knit community had put a target on her back. She was desperate for an outlet to process everything that was happening—that’s when she started posting her videos on TikTok.
The town had already made up their minds about Taralyn, so she made light of the situation by making her TikTok handle “The Wicked Witch of the West.” She never meant to go viral, but that is exactly what happened.
One of her videos showing the number of people who were routinely using her property garnered 4.4 million views. And to her surprise, the comment section was overwhelmingly positive, with viewers sympathetic and outraged by the debacle. Finally, she was able to tell her side of the story.
She dedicated her account to the advocacy of property rights by telling not only her story, but also the stories of others who were enduring similar atrocities. Her account began to grow: She now has over 230,000 followers and 4.5 million likes.
As her videos grew in popularity, people in the town began to see the whole picture, and some even reached out to Taralyn and her fiancé and apologized for misjudging the situation. TikTok had helped Taralyn win in the court of public opinion.
When Pacific Legal Foundation found Taralyn’s TikTok videos, we knew we had to sit down and talk. After all, Taralyn’s exhausting experience is something many PLF clients understand all too well. And just like Taralyn, PLF is dedicated to helping property owners protect their land from greedy governments.
In New Mexico, PLF just filed a case on behalf of Lucía Sanchez, a rancher and land planner for a local tribal government. Lucía’s family has owned property in Rio Arriba County since 1942. She has always felt a powerful bond to the land that connects her to her heritage.
The property backs up to a national forest, which the government has used as an excuse to claim her land for public access. This concerned Lucía, especially when anglers and others arrived, unannounced and uninvited, to use the streambed on her private land.
In 2022, the New Mexico Supreme Court stripped away her property rights, after a group of non-profits led by the Adobe Whitewater Club of New Mexico filed a petition. The groups asked the court to invalidate new regulations that allowed the New Mexico Department of Game and Fish to issue certificates confirming owners’ rights to exclude the public from private streambeds.
Now, Lucía is powerless to stop trespassers from taking fish from her stream by the dozens. Like Taralyn’s experience, trespassers also left behind trash. Despite her best efforts, Lucía’s cattle have gotten sick from eating the trash. Yet, there is nothing she can do to keep trespassers at bay.
Pacific Legal Foundation is helping Lucía fight for her right to own and use private land without interference from the public, which is critical and sacred, not only to Lucía but to anyone whose property rights stand in jeopardy.
Unfortunately, these are not the only PLF cases where clients had to fight to defend their right to exclude people from their own land. In fact, two of our more recent Supreme Court victories, Cedar Point Nursery v. Hassid and Wilkins v. United States dealt with this very issue.
Victories aside, there is still much work to be done, and PLF can’t do it alone. Thankfully, we have people like Taralyn and Lucía on our side.
Taralyn’s courage to stand up for her rights sparked an online movement that has brought national attention to the issue of property rights. She has used TikTok to draw support, not only for her own case but for others as well. Her content is helping to personify the complex legal stakes by showing the real-world consequences of governments stripping people of their constitutional rights.
As far as her own story goes, Taralyn was forced to settle and “split the baby,” as she puts it, giving the County about 40% of her backyard in exchange for a settlement of a quarter of a million dollars. While her own fight to defend her property has come to an end, that doesn’t mean she has stopped fighting.
Taralyn’s social media presence continues to grow as she works to help others fight back.
Taralyn has made herself a force to be reckoned with, and she’s having fun in the process. She’s found amusement in wearing her “Wicked Witch of the West” nickname as a badge of honor, but make no mistake, the true villain of her story is the government, for failing to protect Taralyn’s private property rights.