Dreu Murin
I am writing not to demand action or point fingers, but to share — as honestly as I can — the deep frustration and disappointment I feel as a long-time resident, business owner, and community volunteer in Douglas County.
When I purchased my property nearly a decade ago, I did so with hope, determination, and a long-term commitment to the area. As a young professional, the only viable path to homeownership in this extreme overpriced market was through investing in a property that could also serve as a vacation rental — a choice many of us made out of necessity, not opportunism.
At that time, I believed Douglas County was a place where I could grow a business, build a life, and contribute meaningfully to the community.
But over time, it’s become painfully clear that this is no longer a sustainable place for the working middle class or for younger residents trying to make a life here. The divide between policy and reality in Douglas County continues to grow wider. Wealthy out-of-state buyers and retirees are welcomed with open arms, while those of us who built careers, created jobs, supported charities, and served our neighbors are treated like an afterthought — or worse, an inconvenience.
Since day one, I’ve faced an exhausting series of roadblocks: bureaucratic delays on snow-related stair repairs, an over-complicated boundary line adjustment due to historical build issues, and most recently, the VHR program — which remains inconsistent, confusing and plagued by red tape. These are not isolated experiences. They represent a pattern of disconnection and disregard.
Perhaps the most glaring example of this is the ongoing treatment of the upper Kingsbury area — an area that was always designed, built, and marketed as vacation housing to support Heavenly Ski Resort. These multifamily properties were never intended to be full-time single-family residences. The idea that they are being governed and regulated the same way as homes in the Carson Valley is not only misguided, but also damaging.
The Tahoe Basin is not the Valley, and this continued “one size fits all” approach ignores decades of planning, economic necessity, and community design.
Despite these frustrations, I stayed. I gave back. I volunteered for nearly every non-profit that needed support. I helped organize local events, supported business districts, promoted tourism, and did everything I could to reinvest in the community I lived in. I believed Douglas County — especially the Tahoe side — had the potential to be a model of balance between quality of life and economic vitality.
But I no longer feel that way. In fact, for the first time, I am actively preparing to list our properties and invest elsewhere — in places like Incline Village, or even South Lake Tahoe. It’s hard to believe, but California now feels more business-friendly and supportive of working-class residents than this side of the state line. That’s a heartbreaking conclusion I never thought I’d reach.
At this point, it seems clear that Douglas County is becoming a retirement town — governed by those with the loudest complaints rather than the greatest contributions. The people who brought energy, investment, and innovation to the area are being priced out or pushed out by a system that doesn’t reflect their needs.
I’m not writing this to stir controversy.
I understand my couple of properties and voice may not carry much weight in the broader decisions of the county. But I write this as someone who truly cared — some-one who believed in the future of Douglas County and is now being forced to walk away from that vision. And I believe there are many others who feel the same.
Thank you for your time, and for the service you provide to the county. I hope these words are received as a heartfelt reflection — from someone who tried to do it right and is now left with no other choice but to move on.
Dreu Murin is the owner of Dreu Murin Productions in Stateline and is executive vice president of marketing at Community Bankshares, Inc., headquartered in LaGrange, Ga.