I didn't even think about that property at the time
In the hills of Arkansas, a man approaching retirement did what few allow themselves to do — he took a childhood dream seriously enough to spend two years and six hundred thousand dollars making it real. Mike Fitzgerald, a tile industry veteran, purchased a thirty-thousand-dollar parcel of land specifically for its four oak and hickory trees, then built upon them a treehouse substantial enough to list on the open market. His story is less about real estate than about the quiet courage it takes to honor the imaginative life of the child one used to be.
- A man nearing sixty refused to let retirement become an ending, and instead turned it into the most ambitious beginning of his life.
- His own property's trees weren't strong enough — so he crossed the property line, fell in love with four oaks and hickories, and simply bought the land they stood on.
- What he imagined as a six-to-eight-month project stretched into two full years, testing whether the dream could outlast the difficulty of building it.
- The finished structure — a true treehouse in spirit, a six-hundred-thousand-dollar property in fact — now sits listed for sale, waiting for whoever comes next.
Mike Fitzgerald grew up outside, in the trees, building forts from whatever he could find. Approaching sixty, he decided to stop remembering that childhood and start rebuilding it in earnest.
A career in the tile industry had given him steadiness, but retirement demanded something more. He wanted to build — specifically, the treehouse that had lived in his imagination since boyhood. He found a local expert, Josh Hart of Natural State Treehouses, who understood the structural demands of the vision. When the trees on Fitzgerald's own property proved unsuitable, the two began surveying the surrounding land. Across the property line stood four trees — oak and hickory — that were exactly right. Fitzgerald asked about them, learned the land was for sale, and bought it for thirty thousand dollars.
What followed was a two-year commitment that far outlasted his original estimate of six to eight months. The structure that eventually rose among those four trees was substantial enough to carry a six-hundred-thousand-dollar listing price. It was a treehouse, yes — but also a monument to a man who decided, late in life, that some dreams were worth every hour and every dollar they demanded.
The property is now listed for sale. The dream is built. What becomes of it next remains an open question — but the act of building it was, perhaps, the point all along.
Mike Fitzgerald grew up the way few children do anymore—outside, in the trees, building forts from whatever he could find. That was his childhood. Now, approaching sixty, he decided the time had come to stop remembering it and start building it for real.
Fitzgerald had spent his working life in the tile industry, a career that had been steady and solid. Retirement was approaching, and he knew he didn't want to be the kind of person who simply stopped. He wanted a project. He wanted to build something. So he began thinking seriously about the treehouse that had lived in his imagination since he was a boy.
He found a local expert, Josh Hart, who ran Natural State Treehouses and understood the structural demands of what Fitzgerald wanted to create. Hart looked at the trees on Fitzgerald's own property first, but they weren't suitable—not strong enough for what he had in mind. So they began surveying the surrounding area, looking for better timber. That search led them across the property line, to land that belonged to someone else. But those trees—four of them, oak and hickory—were exactly right. Fitzgerald asked a simple question: "How about these four?" The answer came when he learned the property was for sale. He bought it for thirty thousand dollars.
What followed was a two-year commitment that tested his patience and resolve. Fitzgerald had imagined six months, maybe eight at most. The work stretched to twenty-four. The structure that eventually rose among those four trees was substantial enough to list at six hundred thousand dollars when it was finally complete. It was a treehouse, yes, but it was also something else—a monument to a man deciding, late in life, that some dreams were worth the time and the money and the sweat it took to make them real.
Now, with the work finished, Fitzgerald has listed the property for sale. The treehouse stands complete, supported by the four trees he chose so carefully, a two-year conversation between a man and his childhood finally made tangible. What happens next—whether someone else will buy it and live in it, or whether it will become something else entirely—remains to be seen. But for now, the dream is built.
Citas Notables
I thought we would be done in six to eight months, and it took two years— Mike Fitzgerald
We spent time outside, and I always had dreams of being out there and building something— Mike Fitzgerald
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did he decide to build this now, at nearly sixty? Why not earlier?
He was working in tile his whole life. That's not the kind of job that leaves you with much time for elaborate projects. Retirement gave him permission to stop and actually do it.
And the original property didn't work out?
The trees weren't structurally sound enough. That's when the neighbor's land came into view—literally. He saw those four oaks and hickories and knew they were the answer.
Thirty thousand for the land seems reasonable. But six hundred thousand for the treehouse itself?
Two years of construction, specialized expertise, materials, engineering. A treehouse that can support a full structure isn't a weekend project. It's a serious build.
Did he seem disappointed that it took twice as long as he expected?
He'd been waiting sixty years already. Another year or two probably felt like nothing by comparison.
What does it say that he's selling it now?
Maybe the dream was in the building, not the keeping. Or maybe he's ready to move on to the next thing.