The Storyteller's Corner

 

The Bank Holiday

                                           by Collette

My parents grew up during the Great Depression of the 1930’s. Grandfathers on both sides were able to keep jobs during the worst financial years, but my dad’s side fared better than my mother’s. His dad, my grandpa Bill, worked for the most successful banker in our town managing his farming and cattle interests.

Whenever Grandpa went to town, if my dad wasn’t in school, he usually accompanied him on his errands. He visited his boss and friend at the bank each time he went to keep him abreast of how his operations were doing. The banker often gave my dad candy or money when he went. At Christmas the friend gave oranges to the children of his customers, a rare treat in those days. If my dad got a nickel that meant a trip to the picture show when Grandpa and Grandma came to town on Saturdays. Tom Mix and westerns were his favorites.

The banker friend had a kind heart and allowed businesses as much time as possible to repay their loans. Because farmers felt the depression even before the Stock Market Crash of 1929, he carried them longer than most banks did. There were three banks in town at the time of the Bank Holiday. When the bank examiners came to investigate whether the banks were solvent, Grandpa’s friend loaned the other two banks money from his, as well as some of his own personal monies so they would have enough available cash to pass the examination.

That evening on the day of the inspection, the money was to be returned to Grandpa’s friend’s bank. Somehow this did not happen, and the bank examiners shut his bank down. His customers lost everything. Customers blamed him personally for losing their funds. His bank was just one of thousands closed following the Bank Holiday. His generosity caused the demise of his bank, and the ruination of a kind man forever blamed for his actions.