Richard looked directly at me.
“Absolutely not. I’m not asking him for permission to get my own property back.”
Instead, Richard started making calls.
Within hours, he’d located a specialized crane truck that could lift the Mercedes over the barrier without requiring its equipment to enter my lawn.
That afternoon, the enormous truck arrived.
I brought a chair onto my porch.
I thought I was about to witness the greatest victory of my life.
The operator, a broad-shouldered man named Orson, inspected the vehicle and measured the available clearance.
His expression grew increasingly troubled.
After a warning, he explained that lifting the Mercedes from the street would create an awkward angle.
“Removing part of the barrier is the sensible option,” he said.
Richard pointed toward me.
“That man isn’t touching another thing. Find a way.”
Orson refused to be rushed. He inspected his rigging, adjusted the truck’s position, and explained that he would attempt only a limited test lift if the setup met his safety requirements.
