The "R" word, retirement, means big changes for top-level bankers. Some wonder why they didn't quit sooner. Others get a rude awakening.
Witness the tale of Everett Reece, a former chief executive of City National Bank of Columbus, Ohio. (The bank later changed its name to Bank One; JPMorgan Chase bought it last year.)
"I retired one day," he told me, "and the next morning I came downtown to go to the banking floor but was stopped by a guard I had known for years.
" 'I am sorry, Mr. Reece,' the guard said, 'but the computer does not have you down as an employee anymore. I can't just let you in without approval of some officer.'
"I knew that moment my life had changed," Ev said.
More jarring perhaps was the experience of a New Jersey bank CEO who was dismissed by the board on regulators' order while he was in Florida.
Having landed at Newark Airport, he fully expected to be met by the bank limo. He went home in a cab; the new CEO had canceled the reservation.
A few years ago an officer of a small-town New England bank told me its former chief exec was a greeter in the head-office parking lot. He hated to stay home, loved the bank, and wanted to remain a part of it and see old friends.
Is that a way to treat the ex-CEO? Well, maybe the new brass didn't want him inside. Far too many retired execs wear out their welcome with unsolicited advice. Some wisely avoid doing so by cutting the cord entirely.
Some banks avail themselves of retirees' contacts and talents by using them to represent the bank to the public. When there is lobbying to be done or a charity dinner to be eaten, "send good ol' Gridley." The new CEO can go home and forget about the bank for a few hours.
Life wasn't over for Hugh McColl after he left Bank of America as chairman. He founded McColl Partners to do merger and acquisition work.
"Working with Hugh is wonderful," says a former student of mine who is now associated with him. "He picks up the phone and immediately talks with people it would take me weeks to reach."
Others have found their happiness by leaving banking altogether and working for nonprofits - serving as a museum docent or raising money for charity, for example.
Is that enough? It wasn't for the newly retired head of one major New England bank.
"Sure, I have money," he told Harry Keefe, the late dean of bank analysts and head of Keefe, Bruyette & Woods. "And I have position in the community.
"But what I really miss is the power. I can't just say something and it gets done."
