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In the spring of 1901, C.E. Bingham asked my father, Frank R. Hamilton, if he would like his son to become a banker. Dad's grueling experience in trying to wrest a competence from the land made him glad to say "Yes," so I started my banking care er on July 1, 1901, after finishing my junior year at the high school (Sedro Woolley). [Bingham owned his namesake bank at the southwest corner of Metcalf street at Woodworth. It was then in a woodframe building, which was moved back on the lot s in 1904 and replaced by the stone building that still stands there today.]
For the first hour or so of the day I was the janitor. I spread sawdust, moistened with a disinfectant solution, on the floor of the lobby, Bingham's small office, the workspace of the cashier's wickets and counter and the hall beside, andk of the vault. This material swept up and disposed of, I copied the previous day's letters in the copybook [in longhand].
or collection by wholesalers and others in Seattle and elsewhere. I presented those to the merchants and often brought back a check or cash in exchange. I was never sent to collect a draft against one of the 13 saloons or from the madams eal bawdyhouses along West State Street. I suspect C.E. had doubts of the power of a 17-year-old farm boy to resist temptation.
About the 2nd of July someone asked me to go the Northern Pacific R.R. station [which at that time was on the north side of Northern avenue across from the Keystone Hotel] and get the cash ordered from a Seattle bank to care for the largey to be paid to the loggers and shingle weavers who flocked to town for the Fourth of July celebration. When I got to the station I was told the stationmaster had loaded the shipment into a cart and was taking it to the bank. I realized, a fter I got back, that I had been sent after a "left-handed monkey wrench," as it were.
James Hamilton's column
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There were five canvas bags, each containing 1,000 silver dollars, weighing about 65 pounds each, bags of halves, quarters, dimes, and nickels. I doubt if there were any pennies. Probably there wee bags of five and ten-dollar gold pieces,nties, but I don't remember them specifically. I was soon put to work counting the silver and stacking the dollars in twenty to a stack, and halves, forty to a stack, etc. [At that time, paper currency was still rarely used on the frontie r and was still distrusted, as it was from the time of the civil war. Coins were exchanged at par value; paper money was usually discounted.]
When I joined the organization, C.E. Bingham occupied an office in the front of the bank. Q.P Reno, his cashier, was at the teller's window much of the time. He was relieved occasionally by Bill West, Laurence Ringer and I were around andr to do what we could. A young lady, Miss Soule, I believe, sat at a tall desk and wrote figures in a big book until Q.P married her some six or eight months after I showed up at the bank. Q.P was the next to arrive at the bank after I fin ished the janitor work. He knew the combination and opened the vault, and sent me to open the front door at 9 o'clock.
When I was hired, C.E. gave me $16.67 a month, and told me how generous he was when I was hired. He had started at $10 a month in Marengo, Iowa. At Christmas, C.E. shook hands with us in wishing us Merry Christmas. I was surprised to findm up, with a ten-dollar gold piece in it.
When Miss Soule went away with Q.P., I was promoted to her job. I sat on a stool at the high desk and entered the deposits and checks cashed, the first to the left, the others to the right, beneath the names of the bank's customers, in a. My salary was jumped from $16.67 to $50, so I felt I had become a banker.
But the indoor work got to me, so I quit and went to the University of Washington and became a civil engineer. Eventually, I worked for the National Park Service. They transferred me from park to park, and I visited many on my own. I havet of the 91 years of my life. |
