Pique Banking Hours Saturday 11/5/11

What’s all this buzz about dumping your too-big-to-fail bank and joining a credit union?  More like a cacophony of 57,000 fed up consumers with chainsaws.  Saturday, November 5^th has been dubbed Bank Transfer Day and it’s making headlines everywhere.

I’ve been a credit union member for half a century.  As a child in the late 50s, my dad took me to open my first savings account at the credit union affiliated with his employer.  Once a month he’d take me in to deposit some of my allowance.  I could barely peek over the counter.  The teller would count my little pile of coins, note the deposit, enter any interest and calculate the balance…by hand… then loudly stamp my paper passbook.  Clu-CLUNK!  It was great!  At five years old, I considered“interest” the lollypop that followed the stamp.  The teller always remembered that I preferred orange and little sis liked grape.

While raising my family, our credit union financed every car we owned and helped us save for the holidays by direct deposit to a Christmas club.  They didn’t offer mortgages, but they helped with home improvements, and yes….the kids got lollypops.

Today I do my banking online or on my phone.  If I do have to venture into a branch or use the drive through, they greet me by name.  I haven’t seen any lollypops, but I’ve occasionally strayed off with one of their pens.  My credit union’s field of membership is open to anyone who works, lives or worships in my community.  I enjoy direct deposit, free checking, interest bearing savings, a credit card, and a debit card (no monthly fee) that I’ve used across the country and in a foreign land.  Disneyworld counts, right?  When my tired, old Pathfinder finally calls it quits, I’ll find my best interest rate at my credit union and they’ll make sure the trauma of taking on monthly payments for the first time in 15 years is as painless as possible.  If I ever decide to buy a home, they can handle that, too.

It’s a good banking gig for me.  But there’s something else about my credit union.  It’s a cooperative.  As a member, I have a say in how it’s run and who oversees it.  When I retire, maybe I'll run for the board or the supervisory committee.  Because its board of directors is made up of volunteers, none of my money winds up in their pockets.  Instead, my credit union pays me dividends, gives me lower rates, fewer fees and invests in the community I live in.  I feel pretty good about that.

I’m glad I won’t be spending my Saturday moving my money.