Chapter 9

Thursday, July 8, 1976

I woke up ready to meet the day. I’d had a good night’s sleep. I might have to invest in getting a mattress like the hotel suite has. I did my workout, showered, and dressed in some casual clothes. Then met Uncle Lucas in the lobby restaurant for breakfast.

We discussed looking for a new home, even though we hadn’t heard from the insurance company. I needed Uncle Lucas to call them this morning. We decided to look at the house we saw yesterday. We had to move fast. Uncle Lucas starts his new job on Monday. I would get Mr. Sawyer involved to make sure the trust would be the legal entity that would make the purchase and hold the deed.

“Are there any other areas of the city you would like to consider living?” I asked Uncle Lucas. The commute for the neighborhood we are looking at would be about 30 minutes each way, is that too far out for you?”

“No, that seems fine. You seem to want to stay within the same school district, and I can understand that. Being in high school with your friends around you will help keep things normal. Thirty minutes is not that much of a drive, compared to the commute when I was living in Houston.”

“Okay. I’ll call the realtor and set up an appointment for some time today. Then If we like the house, I’ll get Mr. Sawyer to start the paperwork to make an offer.” That way, we can close in as little time as possible.”

I called the realtor and was able to get an appointment for 3:00 pm that afternoon. With that task completed, I asked my uncle to drive me to the bank in the old neighborhood.

When I stepped into the bank, there was a relatively short line. It was a Thursday after all, and most folks got paid on Friday. So, I had a short wait. Soon I was at the teller’s window.

“Good morning. How may I be of assistance today,” the teller asked.

“I need to deposit a check into a checking account, which used to be my parents but is now in my name.”

I showed her the paperwork from my attorney and the check with my endorsement on it. I proceeded to explain that I would now be the sole signatory for the account. And I would like to move some money from my savings to the checking account.

“Well, I am not sure I can do that. Checking accounts are for adults. We find that most minors are not responsible enough to handle having a checking account, and they end up writing checks that bounce. Which means they write a check that they haven’t got enough money in the account to cover the check. I would need to get a manager to approve this.”

I had assumed this would happen, even with the legal papers, they have to do it, but the teller didn’t want to put her head on the block for a kid.

After a few minutes, a manager approached us.

“Good morning, how can I help you, young man.” He said with a menacing fake smile.

I restated my wishes and showed him the papers from my attorney.

“Well, I can get this check deposited, no problem. I just can’t let you be the sole signatory, the bank would require an adult, for legal reasons. After all, we would not be doing a community service if we allowed you to run through the money in your checking account without a means to make new deposits.”

“Sir, did you even listen to what I said? I also stated I wanted to move some money from my savings and transfer it into this checking account.”

“Yes, I heard, but seriously young man, how much money could you possibly have in your passbook savings account to make a transfer of funds worth our time. We’d have to charge you $3.00 for the transfer, and I am sure you’d just rather keep that in your account than pay us a fee like that.”

“Have you even checked the balance on my savings account, sir?” I asked.

“Well, no, I haven’t. But I assure you, you people never have much in the way of savings or checking, so why would I bother with yours.”

I was getting furious now. “Because you ignorant racist asshole, I have over $45,000 in my savings account. I want the entire balance of my savings account and the balances of all my parents’ accounts, in cash, in the next 10 minutes.”

The man paled, “Young man, I assure you I am not ignorant, nor am I racist.

I am merely doing my job as the manager of this establishment to look out for its interests. I assure you that I do nothing any different than any other bank would when asked by a minor to do as you have asked me to do.”

“Really?” I asked sarcastically I was still mad. “I bet if I were white and came in here with these same papers from an attorney with the same requests, you’d be bending over backward to help me. I also bet you’d be tripping over yourself, extolling how wonderful my parents were, and what a tragedy it was for their untimely demise. I also bet you personally would have taken care of me when you saw me step in line in the lobby. I bet I wouldn’t have waited. You would have taken me into your office to complete everything in private to keep strangers from knowing my business.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His eyes spoke volumes, making up for the silence of his lips. Finally, he said, I assure you I treat everyone as equals, I don’t break any laws. I follow the banking guidelines as well as any applicable federal, state, or local laws.

“Just because you follow the law doesn’t mean you’re not a racist. Your lack of protest and the guilt in your eyes tells me I am correct in my assumption that if I were a white man instead of a black man.” So, I asked, “Where’s my money? I want all of my accounts at this bank closed, and then I want the cash, but I tell you what, to expedite this and to avoid the inevitable excuse, ‘we don’t have that much in cash’ which we both know is a lie. Give me a cashier’s check for the total amount.”

Within 15 minutes, the accounts were closed, I had a cashier’s check for $46,625 that accounted for my savings and my parents checking and savings account. I was walking out of the bank and out to Uncle Lucas’ car when I realized I had fucked up, I had allowed my temper to get away from me, and I was now stuck. Oh, sure, I had my money, but there was no way I was going to be able to open a checking account on my own now. I suppose I could try a larger bank and maybe use the legal papers from Mr. Sawyer, but it would be difficult. I was 16 years old. I had to keep telling myself that or I will forget. I kept thinking like a grown man, and I forgot to look in the mirror long enough to remember I wasn’t.

I got into the car and pulled the door shut, slammed it closed would be more honest.

“Hey, easy on the doors kid, what’s eating you?”

I explained the whole ordeal with the manager and how I blew my stack, and now I had a cashier’s check instead of a checking account.

“Don’t worry about it right now, we have to get ready to meet the realtor, and I would like to dress more professionally than I am now. Could we stop by the hotel and change?” I asked.

“That’s a pretty good idea, it will help send a message that we are serious buyers,” Uncle Lucas said.

By the time we drove to the hotel, changed, and had lunch, it was time to meet the realtor. We went to the house and parked on the street and were met moments later by a person driving a Cadillac Coup De Ville, man I forgot how giant those monsters were.

The slender white lady got out of the car and greeted Uncle Lucas. She was professional and immediately went into her sales pitch about the neighborhood and the schools. How the sellers had made significant improvements, and so on. Finally, I stepped up and introduced myself.

“Hello, please call me Michael. I am the one who will be making the decision on what and where we buy, and it will be my money that pays for the purchase. So, let’s just get down to business, shall we? I would like to see the house. I am interested in making a purchase soon. It doesn’t have to be this one, but It will be in this neighborhood. That is because I want to remain in the same high school, and I don’t want to have a ridiculously long bus ride.”

She looked shocked but recovered quickly. “I see, may I ask how you will be making this purchase?”

“yes, you may, I intend to pay with cash,” I replied with a smirk. I produced the cashier check from my pocket. “If we like it, I am prepared to make an offer today.”

Seeing the cashier check was valid, she proceeded to move quickly to the front door of the house. The foyer was modest, with a coat closet as you entered the house. A short hallway leads to a T junction, the Living room and a downstairs master were on one end and stairway up to the second story on the other. The master bedroom didn’t have an en suite bathroom.