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When I dropped out of college to get married, everyone, relatives, friends, my mother, all told me I was making a terrible mistake. They were right. Unfortunately, when you're twenty years old, exercising your right to NOT take good advice is consistent with the stupidity of youth and a total lack of common sense.
Within nine months I was divorced, no job, botched education and living back home with my mother. It was like a bad dream...stuck in a small one horse town, a place I swore I would leave the day I became an adult. Suddenly I found myself confined with no apparent way out.
I would become extremely depressed when I thought about my high school days. Those were my golden days, the popularity I experienced, the self esteem I felt. My friends were absolutely sure I would be the one who would escape this boring rural community and be successful in my endeavors. How did I go from the "girl most likely" to a total failure?
My mother worried so much about me she finally swallowed her pride and confided with an old family friend, Mr Lewis, for advice. He was the sole owner of the only bank in the county, extremely rich and not known to be benevolent to failures.
Surprisingly, he actually created a position for me at his bank...a charitable act that even surprised my mother. She decided his offer of employment was so uncharacteristic of him, he surely must have had an ulterior motive. She was convinced he was going to expect something sexual from me.
Her fears never materialized. In fact, he was extremely paternal, and our relationship was more akin to a grandfather-granddaughter than employer and employee.
And because the old man liked me, I soon became the youngest person ever to be promoted to Head Cashier in the history of the bank. This was an extremely prestigious position for a woman in such a small rural community. He even paid me more than anyone else in the bank, more than employee's who had been with him for years and years.
I became comfortable...the best way to describe my life I guess...buying a small home and resigning myself to the fact I was never leaving the town where I was born. But, I also felt fortunate, thankful my life wasn't going to be a total failure. And the respect...the respect the community showed towards me and my position was very rewarding.
I slowly became like my mother...hating change. Without really realizing it, I had become very conservative, both morally and politically.
I still remember the day old Mr Lewis told me he was selling the bank. I was depressed for days. I knew he didn't have a choice, the big banks in Chicago had extended their competitive tentacles into our area and our bank just couldn't compete with them any more.
The last day Mr Lewis worked he told me the bank was becoming a branch of First National of Chicago. He said they were sending a Manager from their home office...a Mr Tony Gabriel, to take control of the bank. He didn't know anything about him.
I remember thinking how I would probably hate the guy...some big city "know it all" who would be totally ignorant of rural community values, and probably wouldn't care to know. Just another step in his "upward mobility" career within the huge corporation.
I'm sure the portrayal of my life up to this point appears to be a boring existence. But, believe it or not, I actually had become quite happy with the simplicity of small town living. That's why I was feeling so sad, and fearful, that everything would change when the new manager arrived.
Working for the only Financial Institution in a rural area can be fulfilling for a young woman like myself. Banking emits the aura of respectability and class, especially if you have ranking in the bank like I did as Head Cashier. Now I was fearful of losing my comfort, my ranking, my tranquility.
Mr Lewis had abdicated his role as the social conscious of the bank sometime ago. He chose me to be the bank's representative within the community, allowing me ample time to be active in the Chamber of Commerce and other civic organizations. These extra-curricular activities were the sum total of my social life. I was sure the new manager would take over these functions...performing civic duties always looks good on a resume' and in a personnel file.
I remember the day I returned from lunch, my weekly Chamber of Commerce meeting. Marcia, one of my tellers, met me at the door.
"The new manager is here," she whispered. "And you're not going to believe it. Tony is a woman! Toni. Get it?"
"What," I blurted out. "He's a woman? Wow, we didn't see that coming did we?"
As I hurried to my desk, Marcia followed on my heels. "She wants to see you immediately," Marcia said nervously. "She knew your name and everything. You had better get in to her office."
I deposited my purse in my desk drawer and headed for the new manager's office.
Marcia called out to me, "Kathy, wait a minute. I have to tell you something else before you go in."
"What is it Marcia?" I snapped. I was on edge anyway, and Marcia was beginning to bug me.
"She promoted me to Head Cashier," Marcia blubbered out. "She told me I now have your job."
I stopped in my tracks. "What?" I murmured. "She did what?"
Marcia repeated herself.
"Did she say anything else," I asked hesitantly. "Did she say what I would by doing."
"No she didn't Kathy. I'm sorry. That's all she told me."
My heart began to pound. The first thought that came to my mind...they're going to fire me to cut cost. I would be the most obvious choice...I was the one who was over-paid.
I felt totally disheartened. Where would I work in this one horse town now. There was nothing that I would qualify for that could ever afford me the status and money that this job did. I was scared.
"Come in," I heard a firm female voice say..
As I walked into her office my plight was forgotten for a moment. I was temporarily stunned by her appearance. She was definitely a city girl, and so young...so beautiful, stunning.
She was impeccably dressed...not the kind of clothes you could buy around here. I suddenly felt clumsy and ugly...classless.
Her voice startled me. "Have a seat Kathy," she politely ordered while pointing to a chair in front of her desk. "You look just like your picture."
She noticed my puzzlement. "Did you forget about the photographer we sent here three months ago? You know, he came here to take pictures of the bank."
"Oh, yes, I remember," I said smilingly. " But, I don't recall him taking pictures of me!"
"Yes, he took several of you at your desk. He was quite taken by you. He not only thought you were pretty, he thought you were very, very photogenic. See, you had an admirer and didn't realize it."
