lokalgood

Finally, after almost 10 years of banking relationship bliss, it happened to us.  A banking nightmare.  One that took our relationship with a big bank to the brink and had us shopping around and wanting to join the anti- big bank movement.  But one that ended up restoring some of our faith in a well known outfit in this area, and reminded us that for a relationship as important as your bank, you have to be able to sit in front of a real person if you want real help when the chips are down.  The resulting tale should provide some context for any out there considering different options in this era of unease about where you put your dough.

To the tale…. Recently we shifted the wrong amount between bank accounts and got into an overdraft situation on our main checking account for about 24 hours.  Not long to be exposed you’d think.  But consider how many individual transactions (many very small) we all process these days now that our check cards are the primary form of currency.  Before we could catch up to our snafu and transfer the right amount, Chevy Chase Bank had hit us with 25 (yes, twenty FIVE!) separate overdraft fees to the tune of almost $850 dollars. That’s insane.  I’d have no problem paying a small fee, penance for my clerical error, but this pile-on of fines, punching me over and over for the same issue, was just bullying.

But not to worry I thought.  A decade of doing business at Chevy Chase with multiple accounts and nary a single issue overall those years…surely this history meant something.   Not to telephone customer support it didn’t.  In several calls we got the kind of disconnected, short (borderline annoyed), process-constrained service I’ve come to expect from big companies.    To paraphrase – “Sir, our process says we can waive one fee in very severe situations, but that’s it, no matter the circumstances, there’s no one else you can speak to here or that my process allows me to connect you with, if you want to take it up further, write a letter.”

I was fuming, full of indignation, but with no outlet.  The whole “write-a-letter” thing seemed so calculating.  As if they know perfectly well that time-starved customers are going to fold before taking the time to pen a letter, then wait for the snail mail process to play out over many months if it plays out at all.  Do companies even have mail rooms anymore?  This against the backdrop of our electronic world in which there are all manner of fast, easy ways to get a new account, but precious view such avenues for voicing displeasure with the  account you already have.  The final indignity?  I go to the web site to lodge a complaint while mulling my options.  After pecking out a paragraph to describe the situation, the web form times out and my feedback is lost, form reset.  How fitting.  As if to say, “take all the time you want writing a letter to nowhere, but spare us the detail on anything we might have to respond to in the near term.”

Time to break up with Chevy Chase.  I researched all my other options – online only banks, the local community banks, you name it.  Stoked the fire of my discontent with reading on the anti-big bank movement (like at moveyourmoney.info, check out the community bank finder, the video is cool too).  Convinced myself the hassle of a rip and replace on all my online bill payment was required by the injustice at hand.  I HAD to vote with my feet.

A quick aside, in my wild searching I came across a number of resources that might be helpful to any who are looking around.  Here are a couple:

• Mintlife – the blog at online personal finance tool Mint (also very useful btw).  Check out relevant posts like The Pros and Cons of Online Banks, How Customers are Sticking it to the Big Banks, and 6 Innovative Banks that Change Online Banking
• Kiplinger’s Personal Finance – like this piece on 7 Great Online Banking Deals
• The comments on a lot of these are also revealing, plenty of horror stories to go around on customer service.

But before doing so, I opted for one last move with Chevy Chase, one involving a real person who works in my community, one that ended up turning this whole sad tale around and restoring my faith in the possibility of companies empowering people to act on behalf of, not at the expense of, their customers.

In I marched to the Washington Street branch one recent Monday morning, closed one of my accounts to demonstrate my resolve, and asked to see the manager.  [I should note that I’ve always found the staff here very friendly and helpful, part of the last bit of question I had about switching to an online only bank.]  Out came Casundra, the branch chief.  We proceeded to have a very reasonable, efficient conversation.  She was attentive, listened carefully, promised a quick review from her and the area manager and assured me I’d hear from her soon.  And would you believe it, I did actually hear, from her and the area manager, quickly.  With the end result that they chose to waive all but a very small portion of the fees in light of my long relationship with the bank and otherwise clean rap sheet.

My takeways?  A mix of good and bad.  First the bad.  In most cases, no matter who you use, support for the masses over the phone is constructed to, and eventually will, disappoint you.  It’s inherently all about metrics, process, call routes, avoiding interpretation, limiting improvisation, working to the mean.  So be prepared before you go online-only, certainly for all of your accounts.  You may be fine most of the time, but in those moments where the system for the masses is likely to let you down, you have no other move.

Now the good.  People matter.  People in your community matter more.  I’m still looking at other banking options than Chevy Chase.  But I’ve put the brakes on the immediate switch and may well stay.  I’m considering the value of having people right down the street with the power and willingness to help me, to come out from behind the counter to engage.

For me it might just be that a good blend is the right fit.  Big enough to have some of the tools I want (good online bill pay tools, downloads for Mint, lots of ATM coverage, other things you sometimes miss or aren’t as well developed at small community banks etc.), but small/local/brick-and-mortar enough to have folks nearby who think of themselves as being accountable to the locals.