Relative Something

Yesterday, I experienced a genuine example of someone who epitomizes their job title when I encountered Personal Banker, Nicole W. at my local branch of Wells Fargo Bank. Before I explain, let me set the stage with a bit of back story.

Some of you loyal readers already know the news about my son successfully finding employment, shortly after graduating from college. I must admit, the thought occurred to me that things coming so easily might be robbing him of the opportunity to learn a lesson from the ‘school of hard knocks.’ What was I thinking!?

He is going through enough ‘expected’ stress as it is, with moving back to the Twin Cities from Chicago, finding a place to live, and starting a new job. He didn’t really deserve to get sick and he absolutely didn’t need to have his wallet disappear and then end up in the hands of criminals. His first day on the job found him feeling ill, without proper ID, and unable to access his money to pay for parking. It is bad enough trying to contact police, credit card companies, stores that have been defrauded, the DMV, and a bank, during business hours, but imagine the pressure of needing to do it while in your first couple days of a new job.

Just to make it that much more challenging, the obvious support system of parents happens to be reduced by more than half with his mother out of town for work. The poor guy was left with just me to help him plot solutions to the multitude of issues demanding attention.

The most pressing issue appeared to be getting his passport out of our safe deposit box so he could present it at work for identification verification. He also would need it as ID for opening new bank accounts and we hoped that could happen at the same time. It has been so long since I have been to the bank for access to our safe-box that I didn’t know if I could find the key. A check of the banking hours indicated the branch is open until 7:00 p.m. We made a plan to take care of it after work on Tuesday.

That afternoon, I took the initiative to double-check the time available to access the safe-box. It is a good thing that I did, because the 7:00 time is only for the drive-through. The lobby closes at 6:00. Since I had ridden my bike to work, we decided that after Julian got off work in Minneapolis, he could swing by and pick me up and we should just be able to get to the bank before they lock the doors.

We really didn’t have a minute to spare. Julian called while stuck at a stoplight before even reaching my workplace with concern that we didn’t have enough time. It suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t have any idea what our account number is or the number of our safe-box. Things weren’t feeling very promising. I did find that key the night before; it would have been great now if I hadn’t left it at home. We were cutting it close. At the house, I was about to hop back in his Jeep with the key when I realized I didn’t have my wallet. I would need my own ID to access that box!  “Be right back!” Whew.

We turned the last corner at 4 minutes before 6:00, only to find ourselves stuck in a traffic back-up. We could see the driveway to the bank, but we were about 8 car lengths away. We had struggled all that way, only to get stopped on the street in front of the bank!? That 4 minutes was insufferable. When the 3 cars in front of us moved just enough to clear, Julian pulled in and drove right over the handicap space at a diagonal and stopped at the door.

What the-? He must have learned that from his mother. He told me to get out and he would then park and come in after, if they let him. Someone was at the door to close, but let me in. I presented my dilemma of wanting to access the box, but explained that I didn’t know the number. I’m sure I presented as a hassle to them. Then I learned that the traffic back-up was the result of a power outage that was also effecting the bank. They were facing a lot more hassles than just me. Someone said the lights weren’t on in the safe-box room. The bank was operating on the partial power of their generator. I wondered, when were things going to start going right for us?

But things already were going right. Someone presented a flashlight, in case we needed. It turned out we didn’t, the lights were on in there. Then I was introduced to Nicole. She was wonderfully pleasant amid the stress of their power outage and walked me through the steps of finding our box. She didn’t hesitate when I asked if Julian could open his account during this same visit. An hour after they had locked their doors, Nicole was performing her role as a personal banker well beyond what is implied by her title. It had been a while since I had seen a smile on my son’s face, but she was able to provide Julian with so many solutions to items on his list of tasks, all in this one visit, that the relief was beginning to show.

After battling through the automated phone system, twice in the previous two days, in search of an answer about bank hours, it was incredibly refreshing to experience the pleasure of truly personal service in our local bank. Nicole executed the tasks of her job for us in such a pleasantly personal way, and in the extended hours of her already challenging day, that it felt like we were dealing with a long-time family friend, not a banker that we had just met.

I can’t imagine a more pleasing end to our struggle that day of solving some of the problems presented by the ‘hard-knock’ school of life. Our thanks go out to Nicole and to everyone at that branch of Wells Fargo Bank, for providing such exemplary customer service!