On the (LSB) beam

Although I worked as a part-time employee in the mail room at Newbridge Bank (formerly Lexington State Bank) for five years after my retirement as a sportswriter for The Dispatch, I never grew a serious attachment to the place.

I always thought that kind of loyalty was reserved for the long-term, full-time employees – like my wife, Kim, who spent 31 years there. Those 31 years represent nearly half of her life on the planet.

But times change. Nothing lasts forever.

Consequently, when the current demolition of the main office building began about a month or so ago, I didn't feel much of an emotional impact. Each evening, when we took our daily walk together, Kim and I would stop and look at the debris from that day's reduction. Kim never shed a tear, but I could sense her anguish. How could it be otherwise? Clearly, she was weeping inside. "It's just so sad," she would say.

And then: "I wonder if they know about the beam?"

Signatures decorate a recovered I-beam at LSB.

 I knew about the beam. Back in 1987, when the new towering Center Street addition was being built, a steel I-beam was cere-moniously signed by most of the employees and board of directors and then raised to be installed on the still-to-be-completed fifth floor. It was a crowning moment for all and the gesture was meant to be a keepsake for posterity.

Turns out posterity lasted 34 years.

Kim told Deric Brady, a former Newbridge colleague and the current branch manager of what has now become First National, about the beam. Deric hadn't been hired yet when the beam was signed, but he was aware of its existence. Deric passed the information on to the workers of D.H. Griffin, the wrecking company hired to take down the building, telling them to keep an eye open for a special I-beam and where to look for it.

Then, on Monday, I got a call from Kim.

"They're knocking down the fifth floor," she said. "You better get over here."

I arrived about a half-hour later. Kim was already back at work, but I ran into Cathy Wilkerson, a former LSB/Newbridge employee. She was taking pictures and videos of the demolition, which featured a long-armed machine that looked like something prehistoric. A Caterpillarsaurus Rex (Wrecks?), maybe.

"Did you see the beam?" asked Cathy.

Here's a closer look at some of those names from 1987.

 And there it was, lying in the parking lot inside the enclosed (de)con-struction compound. It was a little bent and dusty, but not so bad off, all things considered. You could clearly see the 120 or so names written in silver or white marker.

I instantly went into time travel mode. Suddenly, Haynes Sherron, Bob Lowe, Kearney Andrews, Ronnie Hartzog, Wayne Kimbrell, Kathy Oakley, Cindy Norman, Earl Snipes, Ardell Lanier, Bob Timberlake, Dothan Reece, Jo Peoples, Steve Weeks, Robin Huneycutt, Max Church and a lengthy host of others were standing right there with me.

I rushed home to get my phone, which I had been charging. When I came back to take pictures, Deric was there.

"I did my job," smiled Deric, taking his own pictures of the beam so he could post them on the Legacy LSB & NBB Bankers group Facebook page. "Yes, you did," I replied. "Great job. And thank you."

As I was walking home, all that sentimental emotion that I couldn't find in earlier trips to view the demolition grabbed me by  the throat: What it meant for Kim. What it meant for me. All those names, some of them now gone. Ghost names.

It made everything personal. Very personal.

And it occurred to me, those names not only signified the people who worked there, but also the heart and soul of that business.

And I held back a tear.