THE BANKS
by Eugene Hutchinson Mallory (EHM 2)

     The Robinsons and the local banks are a part of our lives all through the
rest of this account, so some background on them is needed. This is what I can
remember of these times and of people and institutions.

     The Robinsons began with Isaac Robinson, father of George A. Robinson,
William Robinson, and Thomas John Bright Robinson.

     George lived two doors north of our Bridge Street house and operated a
private bank, a store front affair, across the street, on the West side of the
Courthouse. (Reeve Street in those days, since degraded to a meaningless name).
This bank continued until the bank holiday of l933, some holiday! George put a
sign in his window, "I have your money. When they let me open, please come and
get it". The other two banks could not do the same, and George's little dinky
bank sure had the last word.

     Mrs. George Robinson was very ladylike. She drove about in the only
electric auto in town, a high boxy affair set in the middle of the chassis. It
had lots of glass, so she was very visible with her Queen Mary hats and all.
The electric steered with a tiller and got about in ghostly silence.

     I remember the massive electrical mysteries of battery charging apparatus
in their garage down our alley. Some people pronounced garage to rhyme with
carriage in those days.

     Their son, Rex, was associated with his father in the bank, real estate
and investment business that followed the honorable demise of the bank in '33.

     Thomas John Bright Robinson, known as T.J.B. or Tom, was president of the
Citizens National Bank. I will tell more of this bank later, as my father and
my Uncle Ben were directors and it played a large part in our lives up to the
collapse in '33.

     T.J.B. had 2 sons, Walter and Lee. Lee, married my cousin, Elizabeth
Mallory (Uncle Ben's daughter). This was a WWI romance and a very social affair
with a big wedding at the Methodist Church. I still remember my velvet suit I
wore then.

     There was great suspense as to whether Lee could get a commission. He did.
Then again as to where he was and what he was doing. This problem recurred
later in his life. For all the glamorous beginning, this was the start of a
tragic life for Elizabeth.

     T.J.B. also had a daughter, Dorothy, who married a Clinton. I believe that
he was the son of Dr. Clinton, long time pastor of the Methodist church in
town. Dorothy's husband died young and she lived with her father all the time I
knew her.

     T.J.B. left the bank in the '20's and served in Congress from the 5th Iowa
District until l934. He was a victim of the Roosevelt landslide. Dorothy served
as his secretary during the Washington years.

     Tom's big house across the street, South of the Lutheran hospital was sold
and used as a nurses home. It is now demolished. Tom moved into a bungalow to
the west of the big house.

     William Robinson, known as Will, became president of the Citizens bank and
rode out the storm. Afterward, he sold his house across from the park. It was
demolished to clear ground for the new post office. The old post office had
been in a leased area of the old bank.

     His wife, Ella, was a friend of my mother and I well remember my parent's
concern when the news came that she had serious heart problems. Her death
preceded my mother's and is recorded in the diary.

     There were two sons, Franklin and William (Bill). They were friends and
contemporaries of my brother, William. Bill and his wife Enid later became
friends of Dorothy (my wife) and me.

     Will and son Bill retired to a small house near the country club. Bill,
trained as an architect, built this house from salvage paving bricks. He has
much enlarged it through the years with many original and attractive features.
I hope that the hard paving pricks and substantial construction insure a longer
life than Tom's huge house or the Walnut Castle.

     Walter Robinson was cashier of the Citizens Bank. They too rode out the
storm of failure. They had the Rhomer house, across the street from our new
house, the Andrews' house. Grace called their house the Walnut Castle, from the
elaborate woodworking, the tower and the buff-colored brick construction. This
house stood vacant for some time. A filling station was built in the front yard
and the house later demolished. This was the first degrading of the old Fifth
St. neighborhood. A sad fate for Grace's beloved Walnut Castle and all the
other fine homes including ours.

     Citizen's National Bank, Capitol $l00,000, Surplus $l00,000, and an
undivided profit of $100,000, was the largest bank in the town and in the
county too.

     In my first memories of this impressive institution, it was housed in a
temporary bungalow set up on the northwest corner of the Courthouse lawn. This
was during the extensive remodeling of its quarters in the old Beed block,
later the Rule block and still later owned by W. L. Robinson.

     The bank was set into this three-story block which extended l/2 block east
and l/2 block north of the "bank corner". At one time, there were three banks
on this corner and the Courthouse on the other. The Citizen's situation was a
bit puzzling. The bank bought the ground below, but W.L. (Will) Robinson owned
the second and third floors.

     The bank itself was quite impressive, at least for its time and place. The
facade was of Bedford limestone blocks with a deep dado between every course.
The interior had a lot of marble casing and bronze. The floor was terrazzo with
marble chips and brass dividers, polished smooth. The massive vault was truly
reassuring in that era of safecrackers. Inside the vault and the approach to
the safe deposit area, the walls were mirrored and most confusing to a small
boy. There seemed to be no end to the area, just diminishing reflections. I
wonder, now, if small boys were usually admitted to the sacred vault, but I was
with my father.

     The vault was never blown or the bank held up. Dillinger reputedly passed
through town, but passed up the Hampton banks. He did take the Mason City banks
in a dual raid (about 30 miles north). Several of the smaller banks in the
county had their safes blown or burned open in those times. The tiny town of
Coulter was raided by a gang who occupied the phone exchange and held the town
captive while they blew the safe. The "cannonball" safe at Popejoy was sliced
open like a plugged watermelon by a yegg who was surely an artist with a
cutting torch.

     My father had no regular office or business hours and was free to take me
about. I was familiar with the farms, the bank, court house and Bailey's barber
shop in the basement at the rear of the bank. Father never shaved himself in
his life, so he made it to Bailey's almost every day.

     One of the features of the remodeled bank I learned for myself. I had an
iron wheel coaster wagon which I was allowed to take across town to grandmother
Ferris' house. The bank's new sidewalks must have been furnished by the
terrazzo contractor, for they were as smooth as glass. I found that I could
develop astonishing speed on them, but someone finally told on me.

     Sometimes father's director's fee was paid with a gold double eagle or one
of the bank's own national bank notes. In those days, a national bank could buy
treasury bonds and issue its own notes to pay for them. So the bank had
$l00,000 of its own money in circulation with its proud name on them. The
bond's interest accrued to the bank, but the treasury held the bonds and
printed the notes, which were then delivered to the bank.

     I wish those fees in real money had been saved. One double eagle is still
with us and it is worth $400 to $500. Old national bank notes bring almost as
much.

     All this financial might was under a shadow that few saw. Father did see
the developing storm. The Great Depression did not come to us suddenly with the
l929 Wall Street shenanigans. All through the 20's, there was a slow grinding
deterioration in the farm country. Cries for relief went up, but the wildly
speculating Eastern establishment would not hear. The McNary Haugen Bill always
failed and was finally vetoed. Year after year, farmers, land speculators and
some board members, came back to the banks to borrow money to pay interest on
compounding loans.

     Before my mother's death, father came back from a director's meeting
disturbed and angry. He had tried to push a policy of retrenchment, tighter
load requirements and greater liquidity. He had not prevailed, in spite of a
threat to resign. He had been pressured out of that with the argument that if
he left the board, it might bring on the dreaded bank run that could wipe out
even a solvent bank. He stayed with the bank and it cost him dearly in the end.

     In retrospect, perhaps nothing could have saved the bank. Certainly it was
a hard thing to tell a farmer that he was through, no more extensions. Even
harder perhaps on a board member,

     Even if my father had kept his health and interest in life, I doubt that
he could have fought for a harsh policy. He was not a hard man. At any rate,
after mother's death, he cared no more.

     Even if he had pushed his ideas, he was only a small stockholder, never at
ease as a banker. He did see the coming storm and although we took losses in
the bank, he left us well provided for.

     The final payout of the bank was the best in the area except for George
Robinson's tiny private bank. The depositors got back over 50% of their money
at a time when prices were so low as to wipe out part of the loss.

     Government edict and popular hysteria had forced liquidation under the
worst possible conditions. Mortgage moratoriums made most of the pledged
property unreachable even when it was worth anything. The moratoriums were only
the recognition that public resistance had made foreclosures impossible. The
menacing crowds at the so called penny sales left no doubt. The sheriff would
take away the paltry sums bid and the property would remain with the former
owner. Serious bidders never made a second bid. They were removed from the
scene with cuts and bruises if necessary.

     Considering the conditions, it was not a bad payout. The worst sufferers
were the stockholders and officers who lost their positions, their investment
and had to pay l00% assessment on the stocks par value. In addition, these were
years of public resentment, suspicion and derision.

     For a sample, once on Halloween, a full-sized privy was hoisted to the
roof of the Franklin County State Bank and labeled "FROZEN ASSETS". This was
not done in the middle of town without a good deal of public support and
official complicity.