Okay, maybe I'm feeling a little theatric with my title this post, but Ruth's and my struggle with the banking world this past few weeks has taken on epic proportions. A grand panorama spanning the country, nay even the very globe figure into this tale. Featuring, villains, heros, buffoons, and Presidents (at least of the local Wells Fargo).
My story opens as a tragedy. The framework, already known to most of my--exceptionally few--regular readers. The death of my aunt, aunt's husband, then mother. Leaving a trail of inheritance to my mother, and then from her to my brothers and myself. Unfortunately, the inherited assets are contained inside a trust created by my aunt, but that is no great problem; it should be easy enough to transfer the assets to my mom's estate and then to us boys. Right? Right Wells Fargo? No Problem. Easy peasy. (btw. I've always wanted to use that phrase). Nothing could be simpler than for a banker to draw up the transfer papers, have my dad (the personal representative of my mom's estate) sign them, and ... Viola! Nothing should have been simpler. But as so often happens in great dramas and tedious blog posts (we both know which this is), the expectation of simplicity magnifies the consternation of failure. Namely, the transfer request prepared by our banker at Wells Fargo was denied. Puzzling, seeing as how we had been assured by one of our lawyers that the delivering firm (Axa) was aware of the situation and ready for the transfer, but no; Wells Fargo assured us that LPL, whom we now learned actually held the money had refused. Our banker was at a loss as to what to do next, so not being one to accept defeat easily, I had him give me a copy of the transfer he had filled out and went to visit with Wells Fargo's team of crack investment analysts. This gentleman, showing the intelligence and professionalism I have come to expect from the investment community, spent most of our meeting figuring out how the stepped up basis worked, something I already knew, and only when pressed on the subject hinted that maybe the transfer form needed signatures for both the estate and the trust. He wasn't that sure so he printed out an outdated copy of the transfer form and sent us on our way. I have to marvel at the intelligence of this financial savant, coming so close to useful advice with nothing more to go on than the instructions, so cleverly hidden in the text of the form. So with a renewed sense of purpose, I went home and downloaded a copy of the new version of the transfer form and set about deciphering the arcane language of banking transfers, written in a manner so difficult as to make the interpretation of the "Bible Code" and the "DaVinci Code" look like the insane ramblings of post-adolescent adolescents that they actually are. Here; we'll see if you, my dearest reader can decipher these devilish examples of bank jargon: from the instructions: "All account holders must sign."; from the section header for transfer between unlike ownerships: "All owners of delivering and receiving accounts must sign."; and for the piece de resistance, from the signatures section: "AUTHORIZED SIGNATURES--ALL ACCOUNT HOLDERS MUST SIGN". Now I ask you, as a reasonable and intelligent reader how could any mere mortal ever hope to bring clarity to such obtuse instruction. No banker could hope to understand such a form, and it shows sheer genius that the investment analyst suggested that it "might need both signatures."
Okay, take a deep breath, enough with the sarcasm, I might have taken it a little too far already.
At this point I took it upon myself to fill out the form, correctly this time--the banker had made a few smaller mistakes also--and obtain both of the required signatures and have aforementioned banker fax it back to Wells Fargo Transfers department. With bated breath I waited for nearly two weeks for a response from the bank, only to find out when Ruth and I went in to see our banker that it had been denied three days prior, but contrary to what we had been led to believe, he hadn't been checking daily. Denied again! What were we to do? I was quite certain the the form had been filled out close to, if not correctly. We were told that for some reason LPL had rejected it again. The letter we received shortly gave the reason for the rejection as "Other: Per Linsco Private Ledger [LPL] -- Because the account titles and tax identification numbers do not match, will not transfer account." Our banker had told us that he had tried calling LPL to find out the problem already but that they kept giving him the run-around and that we shouldn't even try ourselves. But by this time, three weeks and two rejected transfers later, I was desperate and called the number on LPL's website. After more or less randomly hitting numbers on the phone tree a young sounding woman answered by asking for my Rep Number (at least it was something like that, I don't precisely remember), figuring I had pressed the wrong number somewhere along the way I said I didn't have one and braced to be transfered where I would be held on hold for twenty minutes before getting to talk to "Nancy" who had a strangely thick indian accent for someone with so american a name. Which, by the way, is exactly what had happened when I had tried to call Wells Fargo Transfers; "Nancy" from Bangalore, Anystate, USA had refused to help me. Well "H" from LPL (we'll call her H because I doubt it would do her career any good to be referred to on such a second rate blog as this one) rather than sending me to the operator, asked my customer number and failing that asked for my name. After pouring out my woes on poor H she actually said "I can help you." After picking up both my jaw and the telephone we talked about how she couldn't discuss account details as I wasn't on the trust account, which was fine with me as I only needed to know about the transfer--nothing internal to the account. Once H had all the relevant account numbers and info she provided me with a rather startling piece of information, LPL had never received the transfer requests. Neither one. The one the banker did incorrectly, the one I did correctly? Nope, none. H at LPL suggested I fax the form to LPL transfers directly, so I immediately had our banker fax it to the number she provided. Over the next few days LPL accepted the transfer form, even though it was Wells Fargo's form, and did everything they could to speed up the process, apologizing all the time for the delay, though they hadn't caused it, and passed it back to Wells Fargo to complete the transfer.
Around this time my dad had asked the local bank manager to look into the cause of the problems. Having come so far with LPL I called her to let her know what was going on. She had no explanation as to why Wells had told us LPL had been the problem when they hadn't, or why they had rejected it themselves as was now apparent. This bank manager admitted that she wasn't certified for this kind of thing, but assured us that she would get to the bottom of it. Which apparently meant that after a while she confirmed that Wells Fargo had received the transfer from LPL, and some time later that it would be processed. She said there had been a problem with communication between transfers and the local branch, but either didn't know or wouldn't say why they had rejected the first two attempts and blamed LPL for doing so. She did apologize to us for having to do the work ourselves and admitted that her banker should have been more help, then she made the banker apologize. Sensing that we were still a little curious about the whole affair she brought out the local bank president, because after all everyone knows that Montana hicks like us are impressed with grey haired men in cheap suits. He then apologized to us, expressed his dismay over our troubles and seemed rather surprised when I questioned him about the failure of the transfers department. He very nicely said that he didn't know any better than anyone else before scurrying back to his office. He was very nice about the whole affair, yet equally clueless. So we left Wells Fargo with everyone's sincerest apologies and the promise of a formal letter of apology to come at a later date. This was only three business days ago so we haven't yet received the letter. We had at one point been told that the regional manager from Billings would call to talk to us about the problems, but were later told that he had done everything he could and wouldn't be calling. So, with the letter on the way, I'm left wondering; will it be an apology, or an explanation? Apologies are cheap, costing no more than the letterhead and stamp. Explanations take the time for someone to track down the problem, and hopefully, prevent it from recurring. They also take the bravery to be honest with the customer, it is better to reveal something embarrassing than to leave someone with a simple apology and a pat on the back, all the while protesting that they really are good at banking, despite any evidence to the contrary. The ball is now in Wells Fargo's court, they are actively starting the transfer, and drafting the apology letter, whatever form it takes, I hope they don't disappoint me yet again.
The Moral of the Story. Were it not for H's help at LPL, doing a job that wasn't hers, gracefully handling my frustration and providing a useful solution, I would still be mired in the morass that is Wells Fargo Transfers. I can accept that they make mistakes, and that there may be a good reason they rejected the first two transfers. What I cannot accept is that they did not tell us the real reason for the rejection, blamed another company for something they did, and that they have been unable so far to provide some sort of explanation for doing so. There just might be a reasonable explanation, but I'll never know unless I hear it from them, and until then I have to assume that there was incompetence bordering upon criminality. (The bank manager assured us they had taken "all due diligence," I fail to understand how incorrectly blaming another company for something until I obtained the truth directly from that company is considered due diligence. Moreover we had been told from multiple sources LPL had been the rejecting company, and only when confronted with LPL's side did anyone confess the rejection had in fact been internal.) How can Wells be so bad and LPL, a company I've never dealt with before, be so good? I know that getting in touch with H was a stroke of pure luck, I doubt anyone else would have been so helpful, but she couldn't have gotten what she did done without the cooperation of her transfers department. I really feel that Wells Fargo owes LPL an apology even more than they owe me one, but I have a feeling that isn't likely to happen.
My tale ends with the wait for completion. I feel the transfer is now beyond even Wells Fargo's (who was the villain) ability to screw up, but they have surprised me with incompetence before. I await word of success from the banker (the buffoon), who was actually well meaning, but surprisingly inept. And I owe a debt of gratitude to H at LPL (the heroine), whatever she is paid it isn't nearly enough, and she needs a corner office, if only more investment professionals were like her the financial world would be a much better place.