I am a caregiver for a woman with learning and physical disabilities. I worked with Minute Men through a county waiver program when my client needed to move. I have concerns.
A few days before moving day, a representative called my client. He asked what furniture the company would be moving. My client was a little taken aback because she had already submitted photos of all the furniture. She asked if he would rather she refer to a list she made, email or text the list, or resend the photos. The representative said, "Nevermind," and hung up. I was present for the conversation and it struck me as odd.
Hours before the movers arrived, I moved all the furniture into the living room or hallways for the movers' convenience. I cleared some walking paths. We made the space as accessible as possible for people who would be moving bulky items.
I was helping direct the movers that day. We pointed out the furniture we needed them to move in case. I remembered the odd phone call and wanted to make sure no one was confused.
We also clarified that we were planning to move the boxes and smaller items ourselves and only needed their services for the furniture. This is what was within the waiver's budget
After a couple of hours, they had extra room in their truck and were running ahead of schedule, so they offered to take some extra items. My client agreed. They were able to fit about a dozen boxes which my client had already packed and sealed. Even then, they finished ahead of schedule. They even commented on how fast everything went and how exciting it was to have an easier day than normal.
By that point, my client and I were both feeling that the move was going well. We left the old house early and planned to meet the movers at the new house. The movers, Matt, Jonathan, and Wesley, asked for reviews and tips. We agreed because we were both impressed with how well they handled moving things on a hot day in a setting with a lot of stairs. I also noticed how pleasant they were throughout the process.
That afternoon, my client and I returned to the old house to clean up some more. My client then noticed some valuable items missing, including a necklace worth several hundred dollars. My client noted that the necklace's satchel had been closed that morning, but was open and empty that afternoon.
As a disabled adult, my client is at extra risk of people trying to take advantage of her. I can imagine how someone who meant to do harm might assume my client is an easy target if all they knew was that she is a disabled woman with a caregiver. My client works full time and is her own guardian. She has good insight and no history with memory loss or paranoia. My client insists that she knows where she last saw the missing items. In my time working with my client, I have found that when she is this adamant about something, she is usually right.
I went ahead and helped my client report the missing items to the moving company and make a police report, but nothing has turned up.
After the move, a representative from the company, "Craig," got in touch with my client's main case manager. He stated that he was on site on the moving day. He claimed that the move took longer and was more complex that the movers expected. He even claimed that my client asked for help packing.
Craig's claims were false. Three men were on site that day, and he was not one of them. My client did not ask for help packing, but the movers chose to offer extra services because they had extra space and time available. All the items she had moved were already packed for easy transport. Additionally, the move took less time than expected, even with the extra cargo.
I want to believe my client is mistaken. I would like to not believe that people I thought were so nice chose to take advantage of a fellow working class American. I would like to believe that my initial positive impression of these people was not as wrong as it seems to have been.
Until we knew what happened, my client is in limbo. We have little choice but to believe that the last items remaining of her late grandparents may be gone, never to be retrieved. read more