Left in the Dark: A Family’s Home Gone in Minutes and the Question of Accountability

The Calm Before the Storm

Let’s set the scene properly. It’s September 17, 2024.

Robin is nine months pregnant. I mean, we are talking three weeks away from her due date. She has a three-year-old daughter running around. They are in what should be the safest place in the world: their home in Valleybrook.

For a few days leading up to this, ABC Tree Trimming—contracted by MLGW—had been out there working. You know the drill. They’re cutting limbs, clearing lines. Robin told me they had been specifically working right in front of her house, trimming branches that hung over the main power line.

So, the family decides to head out for dinner around 5:30 PM. Just a normal evening. They leave the house, lock the door, and drive away.

Minutes later—literally somewhere between 5:30 and 5:45 PM—a massive branch collapses.

The Incident

This wasn't a small twig. Robin described it as a 12-to-14-foot limb, heavy and dangerous. It falls directly onto the power line. And this isn't just a flicker of the lights. The impact sends a massive surge, a "hot wire" current, traveling straight up the line and into the back of Robin's home.

The kitchen junction box blows up. The house catches fire.

A neighbor across the street sees it and calls 911. They call Robin.

The Wait

Now, here is the part that just infuriates me. And you’re going to be like, "Wait, seriously?"

The fire department? They were amazing. They arrived on the scene within seven minutes. There were about 22 firefighters and first responders ready to roll, hoses ready, gear on.

But they couldn't touch the fire.

Why?

Because that live, high-voltage wire was draped across the front lawn. If the firefighters sprayed water on that, they risk electrocuting themselves. They were paralyzed. They had to wait for MLGW to arrive to cut the power to the street.

So, they waited. And they waited.

It took MLGW nearly an hour—50 minutes to be exact—to arrive on the scene.

Can you imagine that? Standing there, nine months pregnant, holding your toddler's hand, watching your home burn? Watching the nursery you painstakingly built for your unborn baby turn to ash? Watching your wedding dress, your family photos, everything you own disappear... all while a team of firefighters stands there helpless because the utility company hasn't shown up?

Robin told me, "The kitchen fire could have been an isolated incident... maybe just to a wall. But the house was fully involved by the time they cut the power."

The Human Cost

The stress on Robin was immediate and dangerous. Her blood pressure spiked to stroke levels—176 over 80. She had to be induced for her safety and the baby's safety.

And look, there is a silver lining here. Robin gave birth to a beautiful, healthy baby girl. She calls her "God's gift through all of this," an incredible distraction from the tragedy. But they didn't bring that baby home to a nursery. They brought her home to a rental house that doesn't feel like theirs.

"I wasn't really allowed to grieve," Robin said. "I had to try to protect my baby."

The Silence and The System

You would think, given the gravity of this, that someone would step up. Accidents happen, right? But this feels like negligence. Robin says the tree trimmers had been there for three days; they knew the limb was there.

Did she get an apology? No. Did anyone say, "We are so sorry this happened"? No.

She told me that when she approached the workers on the scene, visibly pregnant and distressed, to ask who they worked for, they just stared at her. Silence. It’s like a wall went up instantly.

Currently, the family has filed suit. The tree trimmers and MLGW are denying wrongdoing. And hearing that... it just makes you shake your head. We see these stories about massive contracts and millions of dollars moving around the city—just like we saw with the tax sales in Ms. Marva's story—and then we have a local family left with nothing.

Coming Up Next Week

We aren't stopping here. We have another complaint that came in about a brand new, $650,000 home out in Lakeland where the foundation is cracked, and the builder is actually suing the family to keep them quiet. We are going to run that story next week.

But For Today...

We can’t let Robin's story just be another insurance claim number. This is a family. This is a mom who had to bring a newborn into a chaotic situation because of a failure in safety protocols.

Robin told me something powerful: "I just wanted it to be known... that I know you have the money. I know you did wrong. And I know you're not sorry. But I do know, and other people know, that you were wrong."

She wants justice, sure. But she also wants to make sure the machine is oiled differently next time so this doesn't happen to another family.

We’re going to keep eyes on this. We want to see if we can get enough people talking to make the companies do the right thing. Because if we don't advocate for our neighbors, who will?