My Secret Bank

by Phil Rowe
In my early teens, spending money was always difficult to come by. In the Fall, when lawns no longer needed mowing and there was no snow to shovel for a few dollars pocket money, there was , thankfully, the dependable "Weirs Bank". It came to my rescue on many occasions.

Where was this Weirs Bank? And what was it? Let me tell you it was a gold mine, at least to kids like us who thought five dollars was real wealth. It was down by the railroad tracks. A branch bank could be found down under the Weirs boardwalk. Still confused? I guess I'd better explain.

The weed-covered banks along the Boston & Maine railroad tracks were littered with empty bottles. Beer bottles, common before more modern canned drinks came along, varied in size from ten to twelve ounces on up to nearly a quart. And there were many many soda pop bottles thrown along the tracks too. Those weeds were a help, for they minimized the number of broken bottles, and they hid those valuable discards from the ready view of others. Broken bottles were worthless.

Older folks seemed to disregard the fact that those bottles were worth money, real money to kids like me. The smaller bottles, beer and pop, were typically worth two cents apiece in redeemed deposits, but the big ones were worth a whole nickel. In just a half-hour's gleaning, gathering them up into a cardboard box, it was possible to collect two or three dollar's worth. The larger five-cent bottles were the best, but smaller ones were more abundant.

I never figured out why other local kids missed that fabulous Weirs Bank resource. It really wasn't hard work to gather up a couple boxes full and then take them to Tarlson's General Store for redemption of the deposits. And the supply seemed to never run out. My pals and I could gather a couple boxes full of those valuable bottles along a half mile of track, and go back for more in the same place just a couple of weeks later. It was great.

The branch bank of the Bank was under the Weirs boardwalk. But bottles weren't the primary resource there. No, that was the source of pure cash. Nickels, dimes and quarters could be found down there in the weeds and dirt under the boardwalk. All the way from the Boston and Maine Railroad station to the end of the boardwalk approaching Irwin's ballroom, there was money to be found.

I found lots of coins dropped through the cracks in the wooden boardwalk, especially on summer weekends. Grownups were sure careless with their pocket change. I guess they didn't think it was worth the effort to climb down under the pilings and beams supporting that elevated boardwalk. But I sure did. The tall weeds and trash that littered the area were no deterrent. Gathering up as much as five or ten dollars in ready cash was worth it.

Unlike the primary "glass-bottle" Bank, the under-the-boardwalk branch bank was one I had to compete for. Other kids in the area knew about the easy money that fell through the cracks. But I seldom got skunked, for that place was usually good for a couple dollars, when I just had to get some walking-around money.