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Letters from Our Chairman

 

“Security Blankets, Pacifiers, Cigars and Bank Lobbies”

Dear Bank of Prairie Village Community~

The fall season in our bank lobby is always great fun.

Parents, who during the summer are always racing against the clock, seem to relax, slow down, and bring their kids with them into our Bank Lobby.

I’d be naive not to understand their children had been heavily persuaded with the promises of chocolates from our lobby candy bowls or selections of cherry and orange from our lobby “sucker” drawer.

Bribed or not, it is fun to see the kids. They come in all sizes and with all sorts of uniforms. Over the school year we see kids decked in various school uniforms, soccer, dance, tennis and golf gear. We see everything from the little girls in bright hair bows and colorful Lilly Pulitzer sundresses~ all the way to highly aromatic junior high boys sweating through T-Shirts having come from lawn mowing or football camp. Trust me, it is quite a contrast.

The pre-kindergarten kids when entering the lobby usually have a terrified look~ at least until they get to the candy bowl. I can understand their terror. Going into a room filled with grownups wearing suits and ties can be intimidating. I know the feeling well.

One early 1960s summer vacation day my great grandfather unexpectedly announced he was taking “Danny” to the First National Bank in downtown Kansas City. (Today the First National Bank downtown is our magnificent downtown public library.)

I became more terrified when mom put me in a short sleeve dress shirt buttoned to the top and then stuck on a clip-on tie.

This was my Bavarian immigrant Great Grandfather who owned a big meat packing company in Raytown. Grandfather wore a Stetson cattlemen’s hat, double breasted suit, Ray-Ban sunglasses and as always he had a cigar going. (Great Grandfather smoked these awful Roi-Tan cigars). We headed out in his enormous Forest Green Cadillac convertible~ a color they no longer make.

Little was said during the downtown drive. I tried counting if he’d smoke two or three cigars before we arrived.

The elegant old First National Bank Building was/is an architectural classic. White massive marble columns in front with heavy ornate brass doors.

I trailed grandfather up the steps, through the bronze doors, past an armed guard and into and into the grand lobby. I caught up when he stopped to fire up yet another cigar.

I began thinking we must be in a church cathedral. I speculated this had been yet another of Mom’s tricks to get me to some obscure Holy Day of Obligation Mass which back then seemed to be every other week.

However, I calmed down when I realized even my Great Grandfather couldn’t smoke cigars in church.

I tried to keep up as he barreled through this cavernous lobby while also making sure my tie clip didn’t fall off.

Grandfather approached a middle-aged banker at a desk, who was of course wearing suit, tie and vest and puffing on a cigar.

Seeing my grandfather, the banker broke into a smile and boomed out “Henrich you mad old Dutchman~ still killing hogs and turning them into delicious sausages and frankfurters? Those aged steaks you cut for us at Christmas were amazing. The wife is still talking about them.” They exchanged warm handshakes and talked about Great Grandfather’s Raytown Meat Plant.

Grandfather sat down in front of the banker’s desk. I was not sure if I was to sit or stand. I decided to stand and concentrate on straightening my clip-on tie~ all the while trying to be very invisible at Grandfather’s side.

The banker, having sat down, noticed me for the first time. “Henrich who this fine little fellow with you? No, let me guess ~ he must be one of your new meat-cutters. Look at his muscles. He’ll be your top butcher before long.”

This made me grin. The ‘plant’s meat cutters’ were enormous men who could wield big butcher knives on hanging hog slabs as if they were ancient knights with magical swords. Being compared to a meat cutter was a pretty big deal.

My grandfather announced loud enough for the whole bank lobby, “This is Danny, my oldest great grandson. Danny is visiting Kansas City and following me today. I wanted him to see you and the bank. He’ll be a businessman like me someday.”

The banker jumped up, came around his desk, bent over so he could look me at eye level and then offered his hand. After a reassuring nod from Grandfather, I shook it.

The banker then reached into his vest pocket and pulled a new nickel roll. With thumb and forefinger, he popped a nickel (like one would do a Lifesaver roll) and pressed it into my hand. “Welcome to our bank Danny~ sure glad you came to see us. We’ll be your bankers someday.”

I got the inevitable good nature rub on the top of my buzz haircut and climbed into the second chair while the two men talked about cattle and hog prices.

Afterwards in the Caddie and halfway home and three cigars later, Grandfather looked over and said,

“Danny be sure and remember today. That is the best banker in Kansas City. He is what every banker should be.”

I could never remember the banker’s name and now always wonder who he might have been. What I do remember is how special he’d made me feel coming around the desk, shaking my hand~ and of course giving me that nickel.

This brings us today. Yes, I wear the same Ray-Ban sunglasses as my Great Grandfather. I have upgraded his awful cigar brand and decided to chew a single cigar a day rather than smoke a daily 10. My Great Grandfather did live to 98.

His message has stuck. Whenever we have kids in the lobby, I try to emulate that “best banker in Kansas City.” I try to squat or bend down to their eye level to say hello.

It all came together this past summer. I came charging into the lobby from the summer heat~ while chopping a cigar. There was a little guy, a few years short of kindergarten, standing next to his mother at the front desk. The little guy had a pacifier in his mouth and a security blanket cuddled in hand.

Before I had a chance to say anything, he pointed at my cigar and softly mumbled “Blinky?” I could barely understand him and it took me a second to understand.

I just started nodding. Conspiratorially I softly said, “Yes kid, you are the only one that gets me. The cigar is my Blinky. I’m like you. I am terrified of all these adults and my responsibilities. Like you I need my Blinky just to get through the day.”

I doubted if the pre-K little guy understood what I said, but he started nodding back. I am sure the little guy’s mother was wondering what the two of us were amicably nodding about.

Perhaps the cigar is my reassuring Blinky I need to get through the business day. Perhaps it is a constant reminder of when my Great Grandfather took me to see the “Best Bank and Banker in Kansas City”.

We can’t bring back the First National Bank and its huge lobby. But by damn if our banking team can’t still practice what made those old bankers so great. Our team makes sure everyone~ young and old~ walking cane or security blanket~ feels special in our small Bank lobby~ one handshake, nickel, chocolate candy or cherry sucker at a time.

As always, thank you so much for selecting us for the great privilege of being your bank and bankers.

 

 

Dan Bolen signature

Bank of Prairie Village coffee mug

 

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Dan Bolen ~ Chairman

Bank of Prairie Village

913~707~3369 Cell

Dan.Bolen@BankofPrairieVillage.com

“The Bank of Prairie Village ~ Home of Blue Lion Banking” ~ cited March 2020, April 2021, April 2022, April 2023 and April 2024 by the by the Kansas City Business Journal as one of the “Safest Banks in Kansas City for Your Money.”

Small Batch Banking ~ Once Client at a Time.

 

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