February 2009 Archives

Marianne Babal

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Sometimes when writing on a subject of history, you become totally immersed in the subject at hand — and don't even know when you accidentally touch the ALT   (as in alternate) key.

I recently wrote a historical feature extolling the accomplishments of two people from Wells Fargo's history, George S. Roberts and James A. Walker, both of whom trained and flew as combat pilots in the famed "Tuskegee Airmen"  squadrons in World War II. After retiring from distinguished military careers, both Roberts and Walker came to work for Wells Fargo as bankers. We at Wells Fargo Historical Services are very proud of their accomplishments and of their association with Wells Fargo.

I described the establishment of the U.S. Army Air Corps pilot training program at Tuskegee Institute  that the military had back in 1941 as an "experiment," testing whether African-Americans had the ability to perform as combat pilots — a reticence that indeed sounds ludicrous to us today. A reader pointed out to me that the word "experiment" in conjunction with Tuskegee has an alternate and more sinister connotation.

In 1972, a news reporter uncovered one of our country's most vile episodes of government-sanctioned racism — medical experiments carried out on unknowing African-American men with latent syphilis. The Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment, or formally the "Tuskegee Study of Untreated Syphilis in the Negro Male,"  commenced in 1932 and involved 600 male subjects. The U.S. Public Health Service's goal for the study was to track the natural progression of the disease in the subjects. Told only that they were being treated for "bad blood," the Black and mostly poor "patients" received no curative treatment, even after penicillin's introduction in the 1947 brought the first real cure for the disease. Test subjects were even discouraged from seeking other proven treatments. By the end of the experiment in 1972, 128 of the men had died from syphilis or related complications, and dozens of their wives and children had been infected as well.

My description of the military's training program at Tuskegee as the "Tuskegee Experiment"  touched a disturbing chord with some readers — even though the National Park Service , who now administers the historic airfield at Tuskegee Institute as the Tuskegee Airmen National Historic Site , uses the same terminology  in its exhibits and brochures.

Sometimes you can write history and not quite understand all its nuances or see it clearly it through a wide-angle lens.

Historians will occasionally write something about a person or place that contradicts family lore  or local tradition. When information that we believe is sound is refuted or rejected out of hand, we can be taken aback. The lesson learned is that we are not merely writing about a person, or a place, but someone else's life, someone else's experience. From time to time it does us good to be reminded that others may view the subject through a different lens. This writing assignment has reminded me once again that history is not just facts and context — it is indeed very personal. 

Charles

Casey's 20-odd-day trip across the West re-created the first Overland stagecoach journey in 1858. All the while he was out there, Casey and his traveling partners photographed, videoed, interviewed, presented, shook hands and made friends. Oh yeah — they fought a hurricane, too.

The trip ended on October 10th as Casey rolled into San Francisco to a noisy celebration. We all celebrated Casey's feat, the legacy of the stagecoach and a job well done. Guided By History is proud to be part of Casey's magnificent journey. Welcome home, old friend! (CR)

Casey

This morning provided me one of those rare opportunities: to sleep in! It felt great!

Today is shaping up to be a relatively easy day, with an event planned at the Wells Fargo Store in downtown San Jose. I was looking forward to the event as I was meeting Bev Smith, Historical Services Manager and Anne Hall, Curator of the San Francisco Wells Fargo History Museum. Those two have been a constant source of support during this undertaking, and it will be good to see them both.

After breakfast and a walk around the Coyote Valley RV Resort   grounds, Juan arrived from his night of freedom, and we were off.

This was my first trip to San Jose , and I must say I was very impressed with the city's downtown — it is truly a beautiful place. Ormsby tells of the prosperous ranches that lead to the "old Spanish" town of San Jose , which was founded on November 29, 1777. The first full name was El Pueblo de San Jose de Guadalupe, and it served as the temporary state capital until 1851.

When I arrived, the store was abuzz with excitement and activity. Planned for the afternoon was a visit by a group of children from the Third Street Community Center.  In addition to the presentation that I would be doing, the students were being treated to a presentation by Barbara Johnston and a group of volunteers from History San Jose.  Dressed in period costumes, they dramatized different events in California history, focusing on historic travel.

One of my favorites was the character of Charlie Parkhurst, whom many of you will know as the one-eyed stagecoach driver with a secret.

The secret?  Charlie was actually a woman named Charlotte. She lost her eye after a horse she was trying to shoe decided it didn't want a new shoe. The woman who played this part was great, and the kids — as well as the adults — in attendance really got a kick (pun intended) out of her.

With the help of local Team members including Janine Nguyen, Lynne Van Hyning, Alex Torres and many others, the event was a success. I really enjoyed meeting everyone — especially the students of the Third Street Community Center.

Although my San Francisco arrival isn't scheduled until tomorrow, I have to be up early in the morning for the final school event in San Rafael  (just across the Golden Gate Bridge in Marin County ). Bev graciously invited me to spend the evening at her house, and I quickly took her up on the offer — a night in a real bed was too hard to pass up. And although they had no way to know, Charlie and Eddie were about to be treated to the run of a big backyard and some new friends: Bev's dogs, Penny and Carlos.

So, as the sun was setting on the day and metaphorically on this great adventure, I head to San Francisco with mixed emotions. I am truly excited about tomorrow's events, but also more than a little sad that my trip is coming to an end.

Trudy

Last Friday, we introduced the first blog by Wachovia's Archivist, Sue Choate. Today, Guided By History introduces her colleague, Trudy Cox. Trudy has worked in the Archives for 16 years, is a former teacher and is active at church. Wells Fargo and Wachovia are very proud of our histories, and this blog is very proud to welcome our friends in Winston-Salem! (CR)

Until I became one, the word "archivist" conjured up an image of a humorless, bespectacled little old lady sitting on a wooden stool, leafing through old leather ledgers as dust particles prompt an occasional cough. Eventually I found out that wooden stools, old ledgers and dust particles don't make you lose your sense of humor.

Not only that, but a Wachovia employee from decades ago provided me proof that laughter is as timeless as good customer service.

Any student of the unusual name "Wachovia" quickly learns that it carried much meaning for the Moravian  settlers of North Carolina. Because the Moravians had such affection for their European benefactor, Count Von Zinzendorf , they chose to purchase land in the Piedmont area  of North Carolina, which reminded them of Zinzendorf's ancestral home in Germany. The beautiful "Der Wachau" valley  beside the Danube River  inspired the Moravians to name their new home "Der Wachau," which eventually became the more easily pronounced "Wachovia."

Being more easily pronounced did not mean that it was more easily spelled, however.

In the 1930s, a bank employee with a keen sense of humor noticed unusual spellings on correspondence coming to the bank. He began keeping a file of envelopes and letters sent to employees of Wachovia Bank where the spelling of Wachovia was, well...anything but Wachovia! It is a tribute to the United States Postal Service  that the letters reached the folks for whom they were intended.

Many letters were addressed to Wachovia in Wachovia, North Carolina. One that reached the bank was sent to Wachovia, Winston-Salem, North Charleston, South Carolina! If only a small portion of the address was correct, it seems that the letter still made its way to someone at the well-respected Wachovia. Indeed, one envelope was addressed to "Leading Bank" and another had a drawn logo on the front of the envelope! We can only hope the writer of another envelope was not planning a trip to Winston-Salem, as the address read "Wicaavia Bank Building, Winston Street, Salem, North Carolina."

Other bank name variations on addresses included: Witcheovia, Wychavoia, Wachtoria, Wacovici, W.A. Chovia, Wahozia, Wacleavia, Washoma, Jachovia, Hachova and Qachovia!

As I continue to research questions about the origin of the name Wachovia and refer to this file, I am always reminded that archiving can be fun, that humor is essential, and that bankers really do know how to laugh.

Sue

Guided By History is pleased to welcome the first blog entry by Sue Choate, Wachovia's Archivist in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Sue has organized Wachovia's archives for 20 years. She is a reader, a skier and a grandmother of 5. As Wells Fargo and Wachovia become one Company over time, it's great to share the great histories both banks proudly maintain. (CR)

Football is not a sport I find interesting.  I do, however, enjoy the advertisements  during the Super Bowl.  The best are obviously the result of savvy marketing firms and perceptive companies.

For the first time, Proctor & Gamble  ran spots for  its Tide brand during the Super Bowl, as did Victoria's Secret and Sunsilk hair care.  These ads were clearly targeting female football fans. Identifying and targeting consumers who are likely to purchase, or influence the purchase of, certain products is smart business.

It occurred to me recently, when my seven-year-old grandson was extolling the appeal of a chocolate and peanut butter-flavored cereal  , that its manufacturer knows exactly when to advertise. I asked if he had ever eaten this cereal — he hadn't, but had heard about it on TV.

Seems that Saturday mornings guarantee a captive audience for cereal advertisers.

That makes me consider just how ingenious Wachovia was way back around the turn of the century when it identified and targeted its services to a specific group of customers. This information didn't come by way of telephone polls or marketing research surveys. Wachovia's then-all-male management, however, was well aware that taking care of financial affairs was not the sole responsibility of men, so the bank decided to devote a specific room in which ladies could do their banking.

It wasn't an elaborate setup. A velvet curtain was hung in the doorway of the bank lobby to partition off a small area, and a sign was hung that read, "Ladies Room." In this genteel atmosphere, women could take care of their banking business without having to step around brass spittoons in the lobby for men to dispose of their chewing tobacco. Here they could also write business letters, or simply relax. I wonder how many took advantage of a trip to the bank to delay the laundry chores or supper preparations that awaited them at home?

It's gratifying to know that identifying and meeting customers' needs will remain the goal of the merged Wachovia-Wells Fargo. It is certainly a tradition with the two companies — that "Ladies Room" proves it!

Charles

While rummaging in the historical collection the other day, I came across a clipping from the San Francisco Examiner  (Wednesday, Feb. 17, 1960, to be exact). The paper had a "Women Today" section, and the story was about a local photographer.

Johnnie Dell Pope lived in Berkeley, California, and commuted daily to San Francisco, where she worked as a window dresser. Arguably, someone with that position has an artistic eye – Ms. Pope proved hers as an amateur photographer.

She took an old Kodak  with her to construction sites to document changes in San Francisco's skyline. She was particularly interested in the construction of the innovative bank building emerging on a plaza at Market and Sansome  Streets.

Turns out Ms. Pope was interested in architecture, but was unable to develop her interest with formal education. Her alternative was to keep a daily photographic record of new buildings that interested her, as well as the rapid changes to San Francisco's downtown in that era.

After a while, construction workers helped her get unique shots at the site, and executives from the "bank in the round" at Crown Zellerbach provided a higher quality camera for her photo log.

The round building that centered the Plaza was opened in October 1959 by the American Trust Company. That bank and Wells Fargo merged five months later, and the award-winning building continued as a Wells Fargo branch till the '80s.

This is a good story to share during Black History Month, because it's an excellent example of the contributions of ordinary people over time.

Ms. Pope never received formal training in her field of interest — whatever the reasons, she was able to pursue that interest by force of will. She lived her life within her circumstances, but pushed the boundaries to make herself happy. She is a wonderful person, an example for us all.

Charles

February is Black History Month  and it's especially vital this year: The United States inaugurated an African American as its President.  There is no better demonstration that Black history is all our history.

There's lots of celebration and activities  over the course of the month. We here at GBH plan to write about a few things on Wells Fargo's history, and a thing or two on Black pioneers in our many communities. Stick around!

We're big fans of history, you know. And Black history is cool.