A case like this gets under people’s skin fast because it touches one of the most basic assumptions tied to owning property. If something this major is buried under your land, people expect it to be clearly documented, easy to find, and impossible to miss in the public record. In this case, that is not how it played out. After years of legal fighting, a jury ruled that the City of St. Petersburg can keep two major water mains beneath homeowner Hamid Salahutdin’s property, even though the easement was not properly recorded for decades.

The fight centered on a 36 inch water main and a 48 inch water main running under Salahutdin’s 10 acre property off Racetrack Road. The lines carry significant volumes of water for the city’s system, and the easement cutting across the property is about 50 feet wide. Salahutdin said the easement runs through the usable portion of his land and cuts across key parts of the property including the pool, hot tub, screened area, kitchen, and bedroom.

At trial in April 2026, jurors found that even though the easement was not properly recorded, Salahutdin failed to take steps that would have revealed the city’s infrastructure. After several hours of deliberation, the jury ruled that the city’s easement can remain. Salahutdin said afterward that he did not feel he received justice.

A Paper Trail That Went Off Course Decades Ago

The roots of the dispute go back nearly a century. The original easement was granted in 1930 for a 36 inch water main running from what is now the Cosme Water Treatment Plant to St. Petersburg, crossing multiple properties over roughly 26 miles. A second 48 inch line was later added in 1962. The issue was not that the easement existed, but that the 1930 easement was not recorded until 1954, leaving a 24 year gap while land along the route was divided and sold.

That gap created a break in the chain of notice that property owners rely on. The parcel changed hands multiple times without the easement appearing in title searches, and expert testimony showed the easement could not be found in the chain of title even after reviewing records dating back to 1920. The easement was effectively lost in time as properties continued to be bought and sold.

There was also documentation showing this issue had been known for decades. A 1965 utilities memo acknowledged that in some areas the transmission line had been installed without proper easement rights and warned that structures could be built over it. Salahutdin’s home and pool were later constructed in 1982, with building permits that did not reflect any easement on the property.

The Discovery That Changed Everything

Salahutdin purchased the property with his wife in 2001 and operated a daycare there. Years later, during a refinance in 2007, a title company confirmed there were no encumbrances or easements and issued a title insurance policy. For years, there was no indication that anything was wrong beneath the surface.

That changed in 2015 when city crews entered the property to inspect a valve that had been hidden in overgrown brush. During that visit, a city representative showed Salahutdin a map of the easement. His response captured the moment clearly when he realized the line cut directly through his home.

Once surveyed, the full scope became visible. The easement ran across the most usable portion of the land, while much of the remaining acreage consisted of wetlands. The positioning of the lines created a situation where the most functional part of the property was directly impacted.

The Trial Ending Still Leaves a Bad Taste

The legal battle stretched across years and included claims tied to title insurance, property value, and responsibility for the oversight. Personal hardship also unfolded during that time, including the loss of Salahutdin’s wife and financial strain tied to the property.

In court, the argument focused on whether a homeowner could reasonably have discovered the easement despite it not being properly recorded. The city maintained that signs of the infrastructure were present, while Salahutdin argued that no standard title search or review would have revealed it.

The jury ultimately sided with the city, allowing the easement to remain in place. The case may be finished legally, but it leaves behind a deeper discomfort. Because once it becomes clear that something this significant can exist without being properly recorded and still be upheld, it forces a different kind of question.

Not about one property, but about how much of what people rely on is actually as certain as it feels.