I shoveled dirt into the buckets and lowered these over the balcony rail down to Catherine who filled a trashcan as full as the two of us would be able to lift. When that trashcan was full, we started a second one, and when both were full, we wheeled them on a hand-truck down to Nancy's Rav4, and loaded it up. It took three trips, two trashcans of dirt per trip, to get it all. My back is still stiff as I write this.
Then Drew and I came back the next day, knocking apart the raised beds with a hammer and dropping the two-by-eights over the side, followed by the empty buckets, and a few other odds and ends we had up there. Then Drew swept off the balcony and hosed it down.
Now here's the thing. Drew and Catherine found nothing odd or untoward about lowering bucketfuls of dirt from a second-story townhouse balcony and transporting them to a different location. They saw nothing odd or untoward about building three long rectangular raised beds on a second-story townhouse balcony in the first place, and planting them with corn. Obviously they are crazy. Both of them. Mad as hatters. Out of their minds. Insane. I am so pleased. Clearly they belong in this family.