When Ginny (my wife) and I were in high school someone gave her an
upright player piano that wasn't working.  Of course I had to take the
challenge and eventually got it working, much to everyone's surprise.
It lived in her garage for a while, until she decided that it really
belonged in the attic rumpus room, where a lot of us kids socialized.

We dragooned three of the sturdier boys and started the move.  The move
to the living room was uneventful, but moving the piano up the narrow
stairway and past the landing where it turned 180 degrees into the
attic door proved impossible.  We tried every possible position and
angle, took off everything that would unscrew, finally deciding that
something else had to give.  The choices were the hallway wall or the
piano.  Ginny's parents wouldn't agree to removing the wall.

In retrospect I'm horrified at our solution, but it did work, and the
piano survived.  We turned the piano on end, and rocked it until the
glue holding the side of the piano broke, did the same to the other
side, and carried the pieces to the attic.  We glued it back together
and amazingly it all worked well, at least to our limited knowledge.

Some years later Ginny struck out on her own and decided to sell the
piano.  The buyers paid for the piano, then realized that it wasn't
going to come down the stairs.  I guess they really wanted it, because
they hired a crane, paid to have the attic window and frame removed,
and lifted it out through the opening.

Memories of the great times we had with the piano in her attic got us
into the hobby that we have enjoyed for more years than I like to
admit.

Bob Billings