Therefore the most new accounts that any bank employee could open in an hour were five, so the three clerks presently working might handle a total of ninety in one business day, if they kept going at top speed, which was unlikely.
Even tripling the present complement of clerks would permit very few more than two hundred and fifty accounts to be opened in a day, yet already, in the first few minutes of business, the bank was crammed with at least four hundred people, with still more flooding in, and the line outside, which Edwina rose to check, appeared as long as ever.
Still the noise within the bank increased. It had become an uproar.
A further problem was that the growing mass of arrivals in the central public area of the bank was preventing access to tellers' counters by other customers. Edwina could see a few of them outside, regarding the milling scene with consternation. While she watched, several gave up and walked away.
Inside the bank some of the newcomers were engaging tellers in conversation and the tellers, having nothing else to do because of the melee, chatted back.
Two assistant managers had gone to the central floor area and were trying to regulate the flood of people so as to clear some space at counters. They were having small success.
But still no hostility was evident. Everyone in the now jam-packed bank who was spoken to by members of the staff answered politely and with a smile. It seemed,
Edwina thought, as if all who were here had been briefed to be on best behavior. She decided it was time for her own intervention.
Edwina left the platform and a railed-ofE staff area and, with difficulty, made her way through the milling crowd to the main front door. Signaling two security guards who elbowed their way toward her, she instructed, "That's enough people in the bank. Hold everyone else outside, letting a few in as the others leave. Except, of course, allow our regular customers to enter as they arrive."
The older of the two guards put his head close to Edwina's to make himself heard. "That won't be so easy, Mrs. D'Orsey. Some customers we'll recognize but a good many we won't. We get too many here each day to know 'em all."
"Another thing," the other guard put in, "when anybody arrives, those outside are shouting, 'Back of the line' If we play favorites it could start a riot."
Edwina assured him, 'Where won't be any riot. Just do your best."
Turning back, Edwina spoke to several of those waiting. The surrounding constant conversations made it difficult to be heard and she raised her voice. "I'm the manager. Would some of you please tell me why you've all come here today?"
"We're opening accounts," a woman with a child beside her said. She giggled. "Nothing wrong with that, is there?"
"And you guys put out them ads," another voice injected. "Ain't no amount too small to start one, is what they say."
"That's true," Edwina said, "and the bank means it. But there has to be some reason why you all chose to come together."
"You could say," an elderly cadaverous man chimed in, “we're all from Forum East." A younger voice added, "Or want to be." “what still doesn't tell me…" Edwina began.
"Perhaps I can explain, ma'am." A middle-aged, distinguished-looking black man was bed shoved forward through the press of people.
"Please do."
At the same moment Edwina was aware of a new figure beside her. Turning, she saw it was Nolan Wainwright. And at the main doorway several more security guards had arrived and were assisting the original two. She glanced interrogatively at the security chief who advised, "Go ahead. You're doing okay."
The man who had been thrust forward said, "Good morning, ma'am. I didn't know there were lady bank managers."
"Well, there are," Edwina told him. "And getting to be more of us all the time. I hope you believe in the equality of women, Mr…?"
"Orinda. Seth Orinda, ma'am. And I sure do believe in that, and lots of other things besides."
"Is it one of the other things that brings you here today?" "In a way, you could say that." "Exactly what way?" "I think you know we're all from Forum East." She acknowledged, "I've been told that."
"What we're doing might be called an act of hope." The well-dressed spokesman mouthed his words carefully. They had been scripted and rehearsed. More people drew close, conversation stilling as they listened.
Orinda went on, "This bank, so it says, doesn't have enough money to go on helping Forum East get built. Anyway, the bank has cut its lending cash in half and some of us think that other half will get chopped too, that's if someone doesn't beat a drum or take some action."
Edwina said sharply, "And taking action, I suppose, means bringing the business of this entire branch bank to a standstill." As she spoke, she was aware of several new faces in the crowd and of open notebooks with racing pencils. She realized that reporters had arrived.
Obviously someone had alerted the press in advance, which explained the presence of the TV camera crew outside. Edwina wondered who had done it. Seth Orinda looked pained. "What we're doing, ma'am,
is bringing all the money we poor folks can raise to help this bank through its time of trouble."
"Yep," another voice threw in, "ain't that good neighborin' for sure?"
Nolan Wainwright snapped, 'that's nonsense! This bank is not in trouble."
"If it ain't in trouble," a woman asked, "why'd it do what it done to Forum East?"
"The bank's position was made perfectly dear in its announcement," Edwina answered. "It's a question of priorities. Furthermore, the bank has said it hopes to resume the full financing later." Even to herself the words sounded hollow. Others evidently thought so too because a chorus of jeers erupted.
It was the first note of antagonism and ugliness. The distinguished-looking man, Seth Orinda, turned sharply, raising a hand in caution. The jeering ceased.
"Whichever way it looks to you folks here," he asserted to Edwina, "the fact is, we've all come to put some money in your bank. That's what I mean by an act of hope. We figure that when you see us all, and realize the way we feel, you'll maybe change your minds." "And if we don't?"
"Then I reckon we'll go on finding more people and more bits of money. And we can do it. We've a lot more good souls coming here today, and tomorrow, and the day after. Then, by the weekend, word will have got around" he swung toward the press reporters "so there'll be others, and not just from Forum East, who’ll join with us next week. Just to open an account, of course. To help out this poor bank. Nothing else."
More voices added cheerfully, "Yeah man, a whole lot more people"… "We ain't got much bread, but we sure got numbers"… 'Tell your friends to come an' support us."
"Of course," Orinda said, his expression innocent, "some of the folks who are putting money in the bank today may have to come and take it out tomorrow, or the next day, or next week. Most haven't got so much that they can leave it in long. But then, soon as we can we'll be back to put it in again." His eyes glittered mischievously. "We aim to keep you busy." "Yes," Edwina said, "I understand your aim."
One of the reporters, a slim blond girl, asked, "Mr. Orinda, how much will all of you be depositing in the bank?"
"Not much," he told her cheerfully. "Most have come with just five dollars. That's the smallest amount this bank will take. Isn't that right?" He looked at Edwina who r added.
Some banks, as Edwina and those listening were aware, required a minimum of fifty dollars to open a savings account, a hundred for checking. A few had no minimums at all. First Mercantile American seeking to encourage small savers compromised at five dollars.
Another thing once an account was accepted, most of the original five dollars could be withdrawn, with any credit balance sufficient to keep the account open. Seth Orinda and others had clearly realized this and proposed to drown the downtown branch bank with in-and-out transactions. Edwina thought: they might well succeed.
Yet nothing illegal or provably obstructionist was being done.
Despite her responsibilities and annoyance of a few moments earlier, Edwina was tempted to laugh, though realized she mustn't. She glanced again at Nolan Wainwright who shrugged and said quietly, "While there's no obvious disturbance there's nothing we can do except regulate the traffic."