CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER THREE
SITUATED ON LaSalle Street, in the midst of Chicago’s canyon-like, downtown financial district, the main offices of Global United Bank of Chicago, N.A., were second to none with respect to opulence. Regularly derided by competing institutions as a “gauche expression of extravagance,” the bank’s headquarters were in actuality the envy of most of its competitors. The building’s interior had a classic motif, richly decorated in a warm, traditional style reminiscent of a bygone era of business in the town poet Carl Sandburg had called “the City of Big Shoulders.”
Millwork of heavy, dark-stained, cherry wood adorned walls, doors, desks and under-counters. Strategically placed, delicately hand-woven Persian rugs also complimented the soft-colored Berber carpet found throughout the offices and customer service areas within the bank. A rich Verde marble accented every area wherever it could tastefully be used. Were it not for the ubiquitous flat computer screens found at literally every workstation in the organization, customers might easily imagine themselves entering the offices of a turn-of-the-twentieth century financial institution, instead of those of a modern, fast-growing organization that was steadily setting itself apart from a goodly portion of its competition.
Logan Hart, Global United’s newly appointed Executive Vice President, Chief Operating Officer and Senior Lender, remembered having the same impression the first time he entered the bank’s new headquarters facility sometime during the latter part of 2009 when ownership of the bank was in the process of changing hands. At the time, Hart was a senior partner with Holland & Associates, Ltd. of Park Ridge, Illinois, one of the country’s preeminent bank consulting firms. Global United had retained him and his organization to conduct a thorough review of the bank’s policies, procedures, and financial performance to aid in some much-needed strategic planning. With that mindset, the opulence of the bank’s headquarters had initially seemed to Hart as being just a little over the top, but that impression was quickly dispelled when he learned of the special circumstances surrounding the bank’s acquisition of the property. Apparently, Global United had managed to negotiate a greatly discounted long-term lease on the posh facility with a very distraught landlord, whose prior tenant—a large regional bank that had fallen on hard times earlier that year—failed to renew its lease. Much in need of funds from the U.S. government’s then recently instituted Troubled Asset Relief Program, the regional bank had been asked to reorganize and divest themselves of certain facilities as one of the requirements for receiving their TARP funds. One bank’s problem was clearly another’s opportunity during times of financial unrest.
Having only recently joined Global United after spending seventeen years on the consulting side of the commercial banking business, Hart was excited about the prospect of returning to active banking. Never far from the fray during his career as a consultant, Logan, as he preferred to be called, had worked hard during his time with Holland & Associates to build and maintain a reputation as someone with a wide range of knowledge in commercial banking, and he had been most successful in that regard. There were few major financial institutions that either hadn’t used the services of him and his firm or were at least well aware of their reputation. A goodly number of banker friends would be watching with interest, to see how successful Logan would be now that he was returning to the banker’s side of the desk, so to speak.
Logan had resigned from Holland & Associates to accept the new position with Global United in early September, after a lengthy period of negotiation. The move had partly been made to fulfill a promise he had given to his recently deceased wife, Melanie, who had passed away a little over a year before after a very long bout with cancer.
Logan and Melanie Hart had been high school sweethearts, growing up together in the same small town in North Carolina. At one time, Logan had thought perhaps the U.S. Army might be his career, and as always, although she had tremendous private misgivings about the matter, Melanie had stood behind him in that regard. Secretly, she despised the military for all of its forced separation, and the constant worry that burdened nearly every Army spouse during the days of the first Gulf War—the period during which Logan was on active duty—but she was still supportive.
Logan had been a Special Ops Infantry officer, Airborne, Ranger-qualified and a veteran of combat command during the days surrounding Desert Storm. He and Melanie had married in 1988, only weeks before he had entered Officer Candidates School at Fort Benning, Georgia, and although that tour of duty was supposed to be “unaccompanied,” Melanie had joined him there, taking an apartment in nearby Columbus to help “push hubby through.”
As with most of their contemporaries, Logan and Melanie’s military days were concurrently some of their happiest, and yet most trying. They made many wonderful friends with whom they stayed close over the years, but Logan saw a great deal of action during the 1990-91 invasion of Iraq, ending up being severely wounded during a clandestine operation somewhere just south of Baghdad on the eve of the ceasefire. The whole ordeal had been a sobering experience for both of them. Although he received a promotion to Captain after returning to limited, post combat duty as a Ranger instructor at Fort Benning, he was still unsure of his ability to recover sufficiently from the physical injuries he had incurred overseas. So, when the choice arose, Logan declined promotion, left the service and returned to graduate school at the University of Georgia in nearby Athens. Melanie was secretly delighted.
Logan obtained his MBA while in Athens, graduating with honors in 1994. Afterward, he and Melanie returned home to North Carolina, where he found his first financial position with the Bank of the Carolinas, a regional bank headquartered in Charlotte. While there, he was eventually elevated to the office of Senior Vice President, Commercial Banking, before leaving the company in 2002 to accept a position with Holland & Associates.
Logan’s years with Holland & Associates had been very rewarding with respect to career. Promoted to full partner within three years, he was not only able to finely hone his banking skills during his time as a consultant, but to further develop a network of powerful friends and acquaintances within the industry that would serve him in good stead during years to come. Worry nevertheless was also a constant companion while he was with the firm, making his tenure there a period of tremendous struggle on a personal level.
Shortly after their arrival in northern Illinois, Melanie was first diagnosed with a slow acting form of leukemia that would plague her on and off for the rest of her life. During the period that Logan was with Holland & Associates, she was diagnosed as being in remission from the disease no less than twice, receiving extensive chemotherapy prior to both occasions. When informed by the doctors for the third time that her cancer had returned in a much more aggressive form, however, Melanie declined any further treatments. Knowing the prognosis not to be good, her comment had been “I just want to enjoy some quality of life for the short time it appears Logan and I have left together, and he needs me right now too.” Friends thought the oft-repeated latter part of that comment strange considering her ongoing personal battle with cancer, but simply attributed it to Melanie Hart’s always positive strength of character. Little did they know how close to true it was.
During the years following Logan’s release from active military duty, hard work toward a successful career, a wonderful marriage and a maniacal regimen of regular, recuperative exercise and conditioning had greatly minimized certain physical and mental problems Logan was burdened with that were so common among veterans with a military history similar to his. Shortly after Melanie’s cancer diagnosis, Logan had himself begun to experience a worsening of certain symptoms of his own that would eventually be diagnosed as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD, as his mandated Veterans Administration shrink so nonchalantly preferred to call it.
On September 11 of the year prior to Logan’s joining Global United,
a date synonymous with the horrible events in 2001 at the World Trade Center,
Logan remembered thinking, Melanie Hart finally lost her long battle with the dreaded disease that had burdened her so long.
For many years prior to Melanie’s death, the Harts had vacationed as often as they could in the northwoods of Minnesota, finding the solitude of the U.S./Canadian Boundary Waters one of their favorite places to visit during troubled times. Toward the end, Logan would take Melanie there as often as her health would allow. So, it was no surprise to him when she asked that her final resting place be somewhere near there, and he had promised to make it so. It had taken him quite a while to gather the fortitude to follow through on his promise, but after a very long wait, Logan had taken one week off prior to the day in October when he assumed his new position with Global United and had driven to Split Rock Lighthouse just north of Duluth, MN. The picturesque landmark was one of his and Melanie’s favorite places along the North Shore of Lake Superior. There he released her ashes into the blue waters of the lake on just the kind of sunny, crisp, fall day that both he and Melanie most enjoyed.
◊◊◊◊
“IN EARLY again today, Mr. Hart?
“What? Uh, yes…yes, I am,” Logan responded with a start, smiling sheepishly at his secretary, Myrna Brock, as he looked up from the credit file he had been poring over. “Good grief! Sorry, for my startled reaction, Myrna. I didn’t hear you come in. Little jumpy, I guess.”
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry, Mr. Hart! I didn’t mean to startle you. I should have knocked.”
“No, no, no, that’s fine. I was just deep in thought and didn’t hear you come in. Did you need something?”
“Uh, n-nothing special, I just wanted to let you know I’d made a pot of coffee, planned to have a cup for myself, and thought I’d get you one, if you’d like.” After only four weeks as an administrative assistant for Logan Hart, Myrna Brock finally felt comfortable enough with her new boss to pop in on him unannounced, although she probably would have done so anyway, had she felt like it. She was rather sure of herself that way. As the only employee with over forty consecutive years on the staff of Global United, she was no wilting flower. The tightly coiffed, prim, career executive assistant did not really feel she needed to be. Having spent most of her time with the bank as personal assistant to the now deceased former Chairman of the Board, old Harold Flannery, Jr., and later his son, Harold III, she was on a first name basis with most of the bank’s largest clients, and a favorite of nearly all the bank’s board of directors. Very few staff members failed to show her tremendous deference. Myrna was old school, with a work ethic second to none in the organization. She was nearing seventy years old, but few employees arrived in the office any earlier or left any later than she. At least that was until Logan Hart had arrived. He was almost always there when she came in each day. It was one of the many traits she rather admired about him, and Myrna Brock had some pretty high standards.
“Sure, Myrna, thanks much! I would appreciate that. I had a cup on the train this morning, but I could perhaps use a little more fortification before this day actually gets going.”
“Not fretting your meeting this morning with the OCC examiners, are you? Shouldn’t be all that bad. I’m sure you’re prepared; and that nice Mr. Trotter is leading the exam team. He hasn’t been in the bank for years, but was part of the team from the Office of the Comptroller of the Currency who worked with us when we changed our bank’s charter from state to national back in 2009. He seemed really nice to work with back in those days.”
“Yeah, I’ve known Paul Trotter for a number of years myself, mostly in his capacity as Deputy Comptroller here in the OCC’s Chicago office, however. You may not remember, but my former firm did some consulting for this bank around that same time. Some of it related to obtaining the national charter. Got to know him some then and ran into him from time-to-time in subsequent years. He’s a regulatory stickler, but he’s always been fair to deal with—tough, but fair.” Sipping his coffee, Logan removed his reading glasses, leaned back in his chair and smiled at this senior staffer he had taken such an immediate liking to upon his arrival. “I was rather surprised to see Trotter out here on a job like this though. I spoke with him in passing the other day, and I guess he’s retiring. He apparently relinquished his regional position to his successor already and asked as a parting request that he be allowed to spend his last few weeks leading an exam team at one of the larger banks in the area. Said he wanted to be ‘in the field just one more time’ before he was done. A rather strange request, wouldn’t you say? Guess they were apparently hard-pressed to turn him down though.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s so strange, Mr. Hart.” Myrna was always painfully formal, never addressing a member of senior management by their first name, no matter how familiar she was with them. She had been trained that way early in her career. “I’m nearing retirement myself, and I think I understand what Mr. Trotter’s going through. Sort of an old-times-sake thing for him, I would imagine”
“You’re probably right.” Logan smiled knowingly. He had already been clued in that retirement was a sensitive subject with Myrna. It was widely understood that she was thinking about calling it quits because she was mentioning it a little more frequently to some of her closer confidants in the bank. Everyone knew enough, however, to leave it up to her to bring the matter up if it was to be discussed at all. She was well past average retirement age, but continued to work, even though Logan had heard it wasn’t exactly all that necessary for her to do so. Myrna was apparently a very astute personal investor, and word was that she had been successful enough in that regard that she only continued to work because she wanted to.
“Oh, the meeting will probably go just fine,” said Logan, “but being so new here at the bank, I’m interested in hearing what the OCC’s findings are to date. I have never really taken much of an adversarial approach through the years when it comes to dealing with regulators. So, I’m otherwise not really all that apprehensive about the situation.”
“Well, I know they can be tough to deal with sometimes.”
“Indeed, particularly in these days when the government wants to stick its nose into most everything we bankers are doing. You know, Dodd-Frank and the like. It’s simply a matter of attitude in how you approach them. Follow laws and regulations as closely as you possibly can, be reasonably cooperative when they’re in your bank looking things over from top to bottom, and most examinations should go reasonably well. They have a tough job and a very real purpose in the banking process. There are admittedly a few bureaucratic jerks here and there, but we also have more than our share of such folks on this side of the business too.”
“You can say that again!” Myrna had a succinct honesty about her. It was one of the things Logan was also beginning to appreciate about her.
“Well, it’s been my experience that most examiners sincerely want to help the bank and protect the depositor, and Lord knows how gun-shy they are after the events of the last decade or so. I’ve learned that a genuinely positive, proactive approach when responding to their findings goes a long way with them. Besides,” he chuckled, “I’m new enough that maybe they’ll go a little easy on me this time. It’s next year when I’ll have no excuses where they’re concerned.”
Myrna had been correct in her assumption as to why Logan had come in so early, but only partially so. He had indeed been spending the better part of the last few evenings preparing for his first critique session with the OCC since taking over his new responsibilities at Global United. In his opinion, getting started on the right foot with the regulators was as important as it was with senior management and the board of directors. He had made some of his own assessment as to asset quality and the overall safety and soundness of the bank before and after coming on board at Global United, and he was now anxious to see whether the examiners would agree with respect to those findings. But that wasn’t the only reason for the early start. Logan hadn’t been sleeping well again for quite some time now. Old memories die hard and have a way of making restful nights a precious commodity.