"The Street" - - Montgomery Street at Columbus Ave. with the Transamerica Pyramid (completed in 1972) in the background.
Evidently, I wasn't doing too well in "casualty," so after a month, because I had experience in property, my bosses elected me for a new department where I'd learn to process Special Multi-Peril policies. They were similar to the Homeowners’ I’d worked on in LA, the difference being they covered apartment buildings over two units.
BOSSES
My new boss, Sam, a wiry, high-strung woman near retirement with short, curly, natural auburn hair, had more patience with me than Jane. One morning, after walking me through some procedures, her phone rang. She reached for it and said, “Hello,” before picking up the receiver. She did this every time. I thought it was strange, but the more years I spent in the business, I found most insurance people strange.
The department head, I think his name was Dick, was a slight, wiry, freckled, red-haired man. Dick talked on the phone sitting sideways, all bent over with his head cradled in his hands like he was either terribly anguished over some catastrophe or had a massive migraine. He brought out the same mothering instincts in me that John at Ronson had. Where Dick dressed nattily in expensive three piece suits, Jim Monroe, our supervisor, an affable, easygoing man - - built like a fullback - - walked around with white shirttails flapping, tie askew, and sagging brown suit pants riding his hips. Behind their backs, we called them "Felix" and "Oscar" from "The Odd Couple," a popular play on Broadway (later a TV series).
My new boss, Sam, a wiry, high-strung woman near retirement with short, curly, natural auburn hair, had more patience with me than Jane. One morning, after walking me through some procedures, her phone rang. She reached for it and said, “Hello,” before picking up the receiver. She did this every time. I thought it was strange, but the more years I spent in the business, I found most insurance people strange.
The department head, I think his name was Dick, was a slight, wiry, freckled, red-haired man. Dick talked on the phone sitting sideways, all bent over with his head cradled in his hands like he was either terribly anguished over some catastrophe or had a massive migraine. He brought out the same mothering instincts in me that John at Ronson had. Where Dick dressed nattily in expensive three piece suits, Jim Monroe, our supervisor, an affable, easygoing man - - built like a fullback - - walked around with white shirttails flapping, tie askew, and sagging brown suit pants riding his hips. Behind their backs, we called them "Felix" and "Oscar" from "The Odd Couple," a popular play on Broadway (later a TV series).
The Russ Building entrance on Montgomery. The tallest building on the West Coast until the completion of the Transamerica Pyramid in 1972.
THE INSPECTORS AND THE TOKEN BLACK GUY
We underwriters had to liaison with the engineering department who inspected properties for us to write insurance policies on. If an inspector found something wrong, like stuff cluttering public areas, or flammable junk piled high in an attic creating a fire hazard, he would issue a recommendation that the problem be taken care of within thirty days. We would then go ahead and insure the place, but if the problem wasn't fixed, we'd issue a cancellation notice. Often time limits were extended. If the engineer was golfing or otherwise socializing, or was a friend of the properly owner or his or her agent, Jim would tell us to extend the recommendation for another month until the policy came up for renewal. The owner would then get yet another round of thirty day notices. I supposed that they either prayed the place wouldn't burn to the ground or were in major denial.
Once, I ran across an egregious, racist recommendation on a policy I hadn't initially worked on, but had to underwrite for renewal. The engineering report read that a white woman in one of the apartments was ironing. Sitting and playing on the floor were some toddlers the report described as white and "Negro." The woman explained to the inspector that she baby sat for friends and that the "Negro" kids were theirs. The recommendation? That the women either get rid of the Negro kids or move out or St. Paul wouldn't insure the property. Such were the early 1960s, although the Civil Rights act had passed, paving the way to desegregation. On the way to my desk one day, passing another department, I noticed women chatting amongst themselves while they worked, over and around Harry, the company's token black guy. He and I became friends when he told me the guy I had lunch with looked like D. H. Lawrence. We ended up having coffee every day with Harry's teammates on the company baseball team. As the only woman in this otherwise all-male coffee-klatsch, this incited rumors. Harry, being invisible (his words), often overheard what the women in his department said about me; he also told me to watch out for Carl, from the engineering department.
Next up:
Chapter 7, Part Three
"D. H. Lawrence;" What the Women Said; Harry's Warning; I'm a Rape Target; Leaving St. Paul.
Once, I ran across an egregious, racist recommendation on a policy I hadn't initially worked on, but had to underwrite for renewal. The engineering report read that a white woman in one of the apartments was ironing. Sitting and playing on the floor were some toddlers the report described as white and "Negro." The woman explained to the inspector that she baby sat for friends and that the "Negro" kids were theirs. The recommendation? That the women either get rid of the Negro kids or move out or St. Paul wouldn't insure the property. Such were the early 1960s, although the Civil Rights act had passed, paving the way to desegregation. On the way to my desk one day, passing another department, I noticed women chatting amongst themselves while they worked, over and around Harry, the company's token black guy. He and I became friends when he told me the guy I had lunch with looked like D. H. Lawrence. We ended up having coffee every day with Harry's teammates on the company baseball team. As the only woman in this otherwise all-male coffee-klatsch, this incited rumors. Harry, being invisible (his words), often overheard what the women in his department said about me; he also told me to watch out for Carl, from the engineering department.
Next up:
Chapter 7, Part Three
"D. H. Lawrence;" What the Women Said; Harry's Warning; I'm a Rape Target; Leaving St. Paul.
