WATKINS BANKING COMPANY

by Danna Shirley

            In 1978 Ron and I were living in a little town called Demopolis.  Kristen was seven and Russ was eighteen months.  Ron worked for the Alabama Power Company and I was a stay-at-home mom until it became necessary for that additional income.   

            I searched the paper for a secretarial position and found an ad for temporary employment at the Watkins Banking Company in Faunsdale, Alabama.  Faunsdale is about fifteen miles from Demopolis and in the 2000 census it had a population of eighty-seven.  It had been a booming railroad town at one time.  The current mayor was also a checker at the Piggly Wiggly in Uniontown, Alabama.

            My employer was the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC).  Watkins Banking Company, established in 1891, was in receivership (July 1978) and closing its doors forever. Why receivership?  Well, it seems the bank was purchased by someone who used it to finance his own personal business and gave loans to his friends and associates as well.  These were out-of-state people who could have cared less about Faunsdale or Watkins Banking Company or paying their debts.   

(Faunsdale Plantation near Faunsdale)

            My co-worker, Biddie Lawrence, had been an employee at the bank and was allowed to remain under the direction of the FDIC.  The first few months were busy as we closed the accounts of the locals and sold the current loans to other banks.  Letters were written to customers to retrieve their personal papers from the vault.  It was a sad demise to go through the process of burial of this fine old establishment.

            One of the former presidents of the bank had been employed there during the 1930’s.  He was the town’s mayor, notary, life insurance salesman, and took care of any important business for the townspeople.  Every piece of paper he ever touched was stored in a back room.  Interestingly, the carbon copy of his reply was typed on the back of the letter he was answering.  He was a conscientious recycler before we ever knew of the term. 

            My duties were to go through these old musty files and destroy anything not related to bank business.  I found life insurance policies dating back thirty and forty years.  Since there was no internet for research in 1978, a letter was written to every company to learn if the policy was still in effect.  Most of them had not only expired but the company itself was out of business.  These policies were beautifully handwritten in calligraphy and the cover was like artwork.  They represented a history of the residents of Faunsdale and it pained me to destroy them.  The FDIC had no heart for family, lineage, ancestors, or descendants.  Just close the bank and move on to the next assignment.

            When I reached the files of insurance correspondence, I noticed the letterheads changed.  As the company aged, the letterhead moved from horse and buggies to Model A’s, coupes, sedans, and right up into the 40’s and 50’s.  The company building also changed from one-story to two, to three or would expand from a small building to a city block.  I didn’t have the heart to destroy these magnificent images so I cut off the letterheads, kept them in a file, and then disposed of the letter.

            Shortly into this project, I became curious as to why all of this paperwork was saved at the bank so I started to read some of the letters.  One of the families had a daughter in a mental institution and the correspondence back and forth between her father and the doctors was heartbreaking.  This was so personal and confidential that I couldn’t just toss these letters into a trash can so I cut them up into little pieces with the paper cutter (no shredders either in those days).

            During my lunch hour I would explore Main Street, which was just one block long with most of the buildings having already been abandoned.  Nothing was locked so I entered one of the store fronts to find a piano that had fallen through the floor.  I also found an old travel trunk that had a corner chewed through by the local mice.  Down the block on the bank’s side was a little grocery store where I could purchase a sandwich and a soda. 

            Eventually all transactions at the bank slowed down and Biddie and I dragged through the day at a snail’s pace while we waited for the next non-existent customer to come through the door.  There were only two outstanding loans remaining and their owners made a payment once a month.  At this point our supervisor allowed us to do anything we wanted just to pass the time.

            After doing our nails, reading books, and getting to know each other quite well, we started putting together jigsaw puzzles.  The counter at the bank had a slant with a ledge at the bottom so it was the perfect place for laying out the pieces.  I brought in the most difficult puzzles with the most pieces that I could find.  After we had completed three or so of these, our supervisor finally proclaimed his work was done at Watkins Banking Company.  The last two loans would be moved.

            And so ended the most touching job I ever had . . . learning the history, triumph and tragedy, of a small southern community; and the most boring job I ever had . . . reading, manicuring my nails, doing jigsaw puzzles . . . and getting paid for it.

    

   Faunsdale Plantation is a historic plantation near Faunsdale, AL. The slave quarters on the property are among the most significant examples of slave housing in Marengo County and are among the last remaining examples in the State of Alabama. The house was added to the National Register of Historic Places on 13 July 1993 as a part of a multiple property submission, “Plantation Houses of the Alabama Canebrake and Their Associated Outbuildings.” Faunsdale Plantation is one of the few large plantations in Alabama where detailed slave records were recorded and managed to survive as part of the historical record.