The day started out about the same as usual at the little bank. Small town banking is similar to banks in large cities, but yet, in some ways as different as day and night. It was a cloudy Tuesday in Small Town, USA, and the little bank bustled with business. In a town of only a thousand people, if you could put a stethoscope on the bank, you most likely would hear the heartbeat of the little country town.

On this day, the Operations Manager was at the corner window. The teller cages were from an old bank in another part of the state and were extremely beautiful. Made of oak, the teller line was in the shape of an L, with beveled glass trimmed with frosted designs.  Because the town has an 1890's look to it, the décor of the bank matched that era. The walls were covered with wallpaper of gold with deep red flock. An enormous crystal chandelier hung in the center of the small lobby.

The cash shipment was delivered that Tuesday, as it was each week. The cash order fluctuated every other week due to the payroll at a nearby paper mill falling bi-weekly, and this week it was large. The deliveryman plunked the bag of cash on the counter at the corner window.

"Having a good day so far?" he asked.

"Just going fine, thanks," the Operations Manager replied. "Been kind of swamped today, though. I've got a lot of work to catch up on."

Because customers had lined up behind the delivery of the cash, the Operations Manager felt rushed. She signed for receiving the cash and then, to get it out of the way quickly, dropped it in the three-foot deep wastebasket under the counter. It was right near where she stood, and this wasn't an unusual procedure. She always waited for the right opportunity to take the cash into the vault and put it in the safe. Right now, she had those anxious customers waiting in line.

Five o'clock came and everyone said their good-byes. The little bank was locked up for the night, safe and sound.

There was one minor problem, however. The regular cleaning lady for the bank was on vacation, and a substitute was filling in. Very early the next morning, about three-thirty, this substitute arrived to vacuum, dust, and of course, empty the wastebaskets. That particular duty sent her into a tailspin. When she saw that cash tag, she almost fainted. After all, it's not every day you find a bag of money in a trash can with a tag that says $80,000.

She immediately called the one and only police officer in the town. Everyone called him by his first name. That's how small towns are.

"Joe, can you get here quick? There's a bag of money left out of the vault and I'm scared to death sitting with it."

He dashed in there and figured this was his big chance to be a hero. Of course, the first thing he did was call the Operations Manager and the Bank Manager. They quickly drove to the bank, barely dressed, not knowing how to explain the situation. The police officer figured some cockamamie story that the two were going to run off together with the money. It was a soap opera scenario.

What they ended up doing was explaining the innocence of the whole thing and then giving the cleaning lady a hundred dollars to keep her mouth shut. It is not a good idea in Small Town, USA for something like this to be spread around.

This is a true story and happened in a small town in Oregon. To protect those involved, the name of the town and bank shall remain confidential.

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