So I made arrangements to have the generator left in the adjacent unit (the one that caught fire) which I still have a key to the padlocked door, and planned to return Saturday (away from watchful eyes) with a grinder, a box of cutoff wheels, sawsall and multiple blades, and have at it. The plan: grind virtually all the way thru the half-inch steel plate in three lines forming a triangle, make three penetrating cuts with the wheel, one on each side of the triangle, then finish the job off with the sawsall, minimizing the chance of igniting papers inside the safe with grinding sparks.
Picking the three lines actually took several minutes of calculations, as I had to make sure I could get BOTH tools INSIDE the safe to do their jobs. So I actually ended up making the cut closest to the front on an angle, where it was more like cutting through 3/4" because of the angle.
That much grinding, in a T shirt, and you know I burned the crap out out of my forearms just beyond the gloves. Went through 5 cutoff wheels. But it worked. Nothing burned.
Laid some rags over the jagged cuts in the safe and pulled the gun out. Absolutely cherry. She's a beaut. Pulled a half dozen paper bags out (which I couldn't make out with the camera) Morgan silver dollars, several hundred silver quarters, and some some other valuables I took over to my mom the next day.
My dad's wallet was in there too. A few family pictures, a couple with friends. The pictures are what get you sometimes. He had a couple of the family visiting me in the Conservation Corps, which was a life-changing experience for me, and perhaps for all of us, the eldest leaving the nest and all. And it got me that I had to tell my mom who some of the people were in the pictures. Makes me realize how much of a blessing this may have all been, to have happened before before she lost any more of her faculties.