Our first pole (the right one) rescued!!!

The right concrete base, and 26 years worth of weather, rotting away the bottom of the pole.

A piece of the rotted bottom of the pole- still painted brightly from before the Tikis became monochromatic.

Loose- breathing the strange new air called 'freedom'.

The rotted bottom of the pole. (The left pole eventually turns out to be taller due to less rot).

David poses with the right pole.

Giving it a fond farewell hug.

What remains of the right base.

The support post gains a smiley...

...which rapidly gets altered into a more Tiki-like grin.

The support's doing just fine.

On to the left pole.

Jacking up the roof again.

Trying to pry the pole from the roof- the nails are still holding tightly.

Trying to gain a gap to saw through.

The nails refuse to budge.

More work on the nails.

Here you can see the pole raised up about 1/2 and inch along with the roof canopy.

And the rot.

And the color and craftsmanship- a hidden treasure beneath the waterline. Excellent sense of Tiki anatomy.

Desperately trying to gain a 1/2 inch gap- the nails just won't let go.

Alright, let's try a wooden wedge...

... and pound it to splinters!

OK, rest break. Everybody pose with the right pole!

Anna is to the left of the pole and David is to the right.

Back at work. When all else fails, try raising the roof some more.

Getting in the left prop support.

Back up to the top of the pole. Pulling away more flashing we find...

Directions for the lights in the roof- still in plastic, but as you can see, shredded over the years.

True urban archeology! Were it not for this band of Tiki preservationists, this sacred text would have been lost when the building gets torn down.

A good view of the horribly warped left support.

Rocking the Tiki gently to get it loose.

Using the crowbar on the nails.

A little last prying- and at last- a gap!

Preparing to saw the nails off.

Cutting the left tiki loose.