A Housewife No More

As told by Daniela,

From Florence, Italy, I came to the United States as a tourist in 1967. I lived with a wealthy couple in Atherton. The husband was crippled. Except for shopping and bringing the husband to physical therapy, I was free. I loved California. At one of their dinner parties, I met my husband and became a housewife, as was expected.

Then he passed away and I was left with three girls.

They were three, four and six years old. With two not even in kindergarten we survived on very little.  My husband had not been a very good businessman. Our monthly income was $600 on Social Security and another $600 from some savings. That was it. It was tough making at the end of the month with only $20.

I waited until my youngest daughter was in kindergarten before I started looking for a part-time job near home.

My interview outfit was my PTA clothes, a jean skirt, & sandals.

I didn’t realize I should be wearing stockings, pumps, and a suit. To my good fortune, the savings and loan manager was the one who interviewed me. His puzzlement on what to make of me was evident. His last question was “Where do you live?” Coincidentally, his parents lived there too. I got hired.

After working there for a while, I found out about a bank that was opening. I knew one of the board of directors and asked about a job. The president called me.

I was hired even though I really didn’t have the skills.

I had studied the classics not finance at the university in Italy.  I went to accounting classes in Canada College and loved learning about the general ledger.

There were only ten people in the bank when I started as a teller. A woman from my PTA saw me but pretended not to know me when she came into the bank. 

Over time, I was promoted every year. Since it was a small bank, I learned operations doing all different jobs. When I became vice president, I had seventeen people under me. I was given the daily responsibility to sell the bank’s money. It was a lot of fun. I would call Bank of America, Bank of California and Wells Fargo Bank. It was a small bank.

I was selling $500 million daily.

So 100 million here, 100 million there. Those were the days when banks were collecting large amounts of money due to the 24- 27 % interest charged on the loans they financed.

It was challenging to balance work and life. I did my best to spend weekend time with my kids, going to their games or doing fun things like horseback riding.

When I got promoted, my manager told me I was the boss so I couldn’t go out to lunch with my co-workers. I didn’t listen to him. I treat folks the same, whether it is a wealthy client or an employee. Growing up during WW II, there were often reversals in fortune. Friends were friends regardless of money.

My boss said, “You're not a normal banker.”

Had I worked at a large bank I would have remained a teller. And that woman from the PTA? She suddenly recognized me when I sat at the desk of the vice president.