Never rob a bank

Last week, the bank that my grandfather and great-grandfather owned was robbed. A man wearing a motorcycle helmet and long black coat walked in with a handgun. He walked out with about $2,500.

This is not the first time the bank has been hit by a motorcycle helmet-wearing robber.

In the ’80s, a man wearing a motorcycle helmet walked in and robbed the bank. My grandfather owned the bank at the time, but had the day off. He often rode a motorcycle; the bank employees thought it was him, fooling around. It wasn’t.

Growing up, my mother often repeated two pieces of advice. One: “Never rob a bank. It’s a federal offense. If you’re going to rob a business, you’re better off with the local grocery store.” (Two: “If you break the law, call the cops. Because when I show up, you’ll want to be under their protection.”)

Years later when I was in college, my friend Jon and I discovered we had lived in neighboring small towns. (My family moved before I started second grade.) And that his father was the helmet-wearing man who robbed my grandfather’s bank.

Last week’s robber is on the lam; last time, it took several months to catch the robber.

1 comment

  1. Ok, the fact that your friend’s father was the original robber is uncanny. I presume he was caught and made restitution?

    I like your mom’s advice. Sounds very similar to what my dad might tell me.

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