PART 2
I walked across the frozen lawn and climbed into the back of that dump truck.
I picked up my father’s flag and held it against my chest.
“Mr. Cobb,” I said, “you’re going to stop. Right now.”
He laughed. “Or what? You’ll climb a pole at me?”
I held up my phone.
“No. I’m going to show this to the police.”
I played him the message. His own words.
“Lease renewed through next December.”
His smile faded.
“In Illinois,” I said, “a landlord can’t change the locks on a tenant without going to court. That’s called an illegal lockout. You did it to a woman and three kids. In the middle of winter.”
Two police cars pulled into the driveway. I’d called them before I left the motel.
The officers read the lease renewal message. They looked at the padlock. They looked at the dump truck full of children’s toys and a baby’s crib.
Then one of them turned to Mr. Cobb.
“Sir, you’re going to have those men put every single thing back in that house. And you’re going to give this family a key.”
The movers carried everything back inside. Moe’s crib. The kids’ presents. My mother’s quilt. Every box.
Mr. Cobb stood in the driveway with his arms folded and didn’t say a word.
That afternoon, a lawyer from a legal aid office called me back. She’d seen my message. She’d handled cases like this before.
“Mr. Bramlett, what your landlord did is illegal. Your family has the right to stay. And to be compensated.”
It came out over the next few weeks that Mr. Cobb had done this to two other families before us. Both times, the husband was away for work. Both times, he’d threatened the wife. Both times, the family was too scared to fight.
He’d had a cash buyer lined up for our house. He just needed us gone first.
The judge ruled that Mr. Cobb had illegally evicted us. He was ordered to pay our family twelve thousand dollars in damages and to honor our lease to the end. The city fined him and opened an investigation into his other properties.
The other two families came forward after they heard about our case. They got settlements too.
We stayed in the house through the end of the lease. Then, with the money from the settlement and some savings, we put a down payment on a little house of our own. Two blocks from the kids’ school.
Nobody can change those locks but me.
Della’s cough cleared up. Moe took his first steps in our new living room. Hayden asked if he could hang Grandpa’s flag above the fireplace.
We did it together.
Last month, another storm hit the Gulf Coast. My crew got the call.
Before I left, I sat Ginny down at the kitchen table.
“If anything happens while I’m gone, you call me. I don’t care if I’m forty feet up a pole.”
“Even if it’s bad news?”
“Especially if it’s bad news,” I said. “That’s my job. Keeping the lights on.”
THE END.
──────────────
Know your rights as a tenant. Keep every message and receipt. And never let anyone make you feel like you have to face something alone.
What would you have said to Mr. Cobb in that driveway? Tell us in the replies.