In tough times, repo man finds himself busy at work

The repo man has braved gunfire, faced down hulking Harley riders and calmed farmers who threatened to throw him into a manure spreader.Occasionally Harry Serena retreats empty-handed. But at 2:31 a.m. on a recent Monday, he pounces on his prey -- a 2003 blue Chevy Trailblazer, parked in a lot outside a Pittsburgh-area apartment complex.Quietly, so as not to rouse the bankrupt woman inside, Serena backs his tow truck up against the front of the SUV to cradle the wheels, wedges open the door and releases the emergency brake, before flinging himself under the body of the car as nimbly as a mechanic at a NASCAR pit stop.Two minutes later, he zooms off, the Trailblazer trapped on top of his truck."This is fun," he says giddily. "Where else can you get this adrenaline rush and get paid to do it?"When the economy is in the dumps, the repo man is flying high.Serena, the top producer at American Recovery Corp. in McKeesport, Pa., isn't just snatching cars from the usual suspects -- the poor, the jobless, the bankrupt. He also is repossessing unlikely cars -- a Dodge pickup from a prominent professional ballplayer, a suburban mayor's car for the third time, a judge's Mercedes."It's arrogance," he says of well-off debtors. "They've got it coming."The gravel-voiced 44-year-old loves to hunt down cars and boats that are hidden at relatives' houses, in church parking lots or behind Dumpsters. The thrill of the chase stokes him like a drug."I would never jump out of an airplane, but I will come take your car," he said.The eight-year veteran of this high-burnout profession has snatched the cars of two cousins. He has repossessed the cars of a fellow repo man in his office. He has dressed up as the Grinch to seize cars on Christmas Day."If it's gettable, I will get it."By law, he is allowed to talk to neighbors, just as long as he doesn't tell them he is a repo man. So he lies. He calls a neighbor and tells them he is getting married or coming home from the war and needs to get in touch with his old friend Joe or Sue.People in affluent neighborhoods don't give him much, but those in working class and poor neighborhoods often rat each other out, he says. They figure out he is the repo man. Some set up lawn chairs to watch the spectacle of a neighbor losing a car.The 5-foot, 8-inch, 215-pound man with curly brown hair and a T-shirt that reads "recovery agent" looks imposing, but he walks cat-like up deserted streets and down long driveways. He is allowed on people's property, but cannot barge into their garages or houses. He parks his truck four blocks from a house to find the car on foot, checking the vehicle ID number on the windshield, before circling back in his truck.He earns $230 for the three cars, a slow 10-hour shift. On a better night, he might snag five cars. At that pace, he makes about $5,000 a month.He earns every cent when he's caught taking a car in the middle of the night.Naked women have come running after him, begging him to give their car back. Others have offered sex. (The cars still go). A tattooed Harley owner told him, "I will give you my first born before I give you my Harley."Despite his glee in catching some debtors, he sympathizes with some others, such as the widow who lost two cars because she had to pay for home heating oil. He feels for the husband who has lost his job and cries when his car is taken away."Those are the ones you feel sorry for because they intended to pay," he said.(E-mail Cristina Rouvalis at crouvalis(at)post-gazette.com)(Distributed by Scripps Howard News Service, www.scrippsnews.com.)