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The heavyset black man, who had been among the earliest arrivals, was getting up as Edwina arrived. The girl who had dealt with him, no longer nervous, said, "This is Mr. Euphrates. He just opened an account."

"Deacon Euphrates. Least, that's what most call me." Edwina was offered an enormous hand which she took.

"Welcome to First Mercantile American, Mr. Euphrates."

"Thank you, that's real nice. In fact, so nice that I think maybe after all I'll pop a little more bread in this here account." He examined a handful of small change, selected a quarter and two dimes, then strolled over to a teller.

Edwina asked the new accounts clerk, "What was the initial deposit?" "Five dollars.", "Very well Just try to keep going as fast as you can."

"I’ll do that, Mrs. D'Orsey, but that one took a long time because he asked a lot of questions about withdrawals and interest rates. He had them written out on paper." "Did you get the paper?" "No."

"Others will probably have the same thing. Try to get one and show it to me."

It might provide a clue, Edwina thought, as to who had planned and executed this expert invasion. She did not believe that anyone she had spoken to so far was the key organizing figure.

Something else emerging: The attempt to inundate the bank would not be limited to merely opening new accounts. Those who had already opened accounts were now forming lines at tellers' counters, paying in or withdrawing tiny amounts at a glacial pace, asking questions or engaging tellers in conversation.

So not only would regular customers have difficulty getting into the building but, once inside, they would be further impeded.

She told Nolan Wainwright about the written lists of questions and her instructions to the girl clerk. The security chief approved. "I'd like to see them, too." "Mr. Wainwright," a secretary called over, "telephone."

He took the call and Edwina heard him say, "It is a demonstration, even if not in the legal sense. But it's peaceful and we could make trouble for ourselves by hasty decisions. The last thing we want is an ugly confrontation."

It was comforting, Edwina reasoned, to have Wainwright's sane solidity available. As he replaced the phone a thought occurred to her. "Someone mentioned calling the city police," she said.

"They came when I first got here and I sent them away. They'll haul back fast if we need them. I hope we won't." He motioned to the telephone, then in the direct lion of FMA Headquarters Tower. "Word has got to the brass. They're pressing panic buttons over there."

"One thing they could try is restoring funds to Forum East."

For the first time since his arrival, a brief smile crossed Wainwright's face. "I'd like to see that, too. But this isn't the way and, where the bank's money is on the line, outside pressure won't alter a thing."

Edwina was about to say, "I wonder," then changed her mind, remaining silent.

While they watched, the crowd monopolizing the bank's central floor area remained as great; the uproar, if anything, a little louder than before. Outside, the lengthening line stayed fixedly in place. It was now 9:45.

4

Also at 9:45 A.M., three blocks from First Mercantile American Headquarters Tower, Margot Bracken was operating a command post from an inconspicuously parked Volkswagen.

Margot had intended to remain remote from the execution of her pressure ploy, but in the end she hadn't been able to. Like a war horse which paws the ground at the scent of battle, her resolve had weakened then dissolved.

Margot's concern about embarrassing Alex or Edwina remained, however, and was the reason for her absence from the front line of action on Rosselli Plaza.

If she appeared she would be quickly identified by members of the press, whose presence Margot knew about since she had arranged advance tip-offs to newspapers TV, and radio.

Therefore, messengers were discreetly bringing news of developments to her car and carrying instructions back.

Since Thursday night a sizable feat of organization had been carried through

On Friday, while Margot worked on the master plan, Seth, Deacon, and several committee members recruited block captains in and around Forum East. They described what was to be done only in general terms, but the response was overwhelming. Almost everyone wanted a piece of the action and knew others who could be counted on.

By late Sunday when lists were totaled, there were fifteen hundred names. More were coming in fast. According to Margot's plan it would be possible to maintain action for at least a week, longer if enthusiasm could be sustained.

Among the men with regular jobs who volunteered help, some like Deacon Euphrates had vacation time due which they declared they would use. Others simply said they would absent themselves as needed. Regrettably, many who volunteered were unemployed, their numbers swelled recently by a seasonal work shortage.

But women predominated, in part because of their greater availability in daytime, but also because even more than with the men Forum East had become a cherished, hopeful beacon in their lives.

Margot was aware of this, both from her advance staff work and this morning's reports.

The reports she was getting so far were highly satisfactory.

It had been Margot's insistence that at all times, and particularly during direct contacts with bank representatives, everyone in the Forum East contingent should be friendly, courteous, and ostensibly helpful. This was the mason for the phrase, "Act of Hope," which Margot coined, and the projected image that a group of interested individuals though with limited means was coming to the "help" of an FMA "in trouble."

She suspected, shrewdly, that any suggestion that First Mercantile American Bank was in trouble would touch a sensitive nerve.

And while there would be no concealment of the Forum East connection, at no point would outright threats be made, as for example that paralysis of the big bank would continue unless construction funds were reinstated. As Margot told Seth Orinda and the others, "Let the bank come to that conclusion."

At briefing sessions she had underlined the need to avoid any appearance of menace or intimidation. Those who attended the sessions made notes, then passed the instructions on.

Something else passed on were lists of questions to be asked by individuals while accounts were being opened. Margot had prepared those, too. There were hundreds of legitimate questions which anyone dealing with a bank could reasonably ask, though for the most part people didn't. Their ancillary effect would be to slow the bank to a near halt.

Seth Orinda would act as spokesman if an opportunity occurred. Margot's script needed little rehearsal Orinda was a quick study.

Deacon Euphrates had been assigned to be early in line and the first to open an account.

It was Deacon no one knew whether Deacon was a given name or a title from one of the offbeat religions in the area who headed the staff work in advising volunteers where to go and when. He had worked with an army of lieutenants, fanning out like radii of a spider web.

Initially, for Wednesday morning, it had been essential there should be a large attendance at the bank to create a strong impression. But some of the attendees must be relieved periodically. Others who had not yet appeared were to be held in reserve for later that day, or other days.

To accomplish all this, a patchwork communications system had been set up with heavy use of local pay phones, monitored by more helpers stationed on the streets. Already, allowing for weaknesses in a short notice, improvised scheme, communication was functioning well.

All these and other reports were being funneled to Margot in the back seat of her Volkswagen. Her information included the number of people in line, the length of time it was taking the bank to open each account, and the number of new account desks in operation. She had heard, too, about the jam-packed scene inside the bank; also the exchanges between Seth Orinda and bank officials.