THE BANKS
                   by Eugene Hutchinson Mallory 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.