Word: bankers
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...help finance regroupings in British industry. To many opposition Tories and business leaders, the I.R.C. smacks of "back door nationalization," under which the government could wind up with a dominant voice in the new industrial combines that it fosters. In fact, the I.R.C.'s own managing director, Merchant Banker Ronald Grierson, made no secret of his growing distaste for Wilson's interventionist economic policies, finally quit his post last October...
...profession that prides itself on impeccable dignity, Atlanta Banker Mills B. Lane Jr., 56, often seems downright outlandish. To help promote Georgia's fledgling woolen industry, he once brought in a herd of sheep to graze in his bank's main lobby. Emphasizing the virtues of teamwork, he has arrived at official meetings decked out in baseball and football uniforms. At one meeting, anxious to rev up competition among his bank's various branches, he showed up at the wheel of a child's toy car. And to make the point that the bank...
Loafers & Loud Coats. Stocky (5 ft. 9 in., 170 lbs.) and balding, Lane wears a puckish smile fixed below his wire-rimmed spectacles. Instead of banker's grey, he prefers loafers and loud sport coats; he has made a trademark out of ties, in a variety of colors, bearing the inscription: "It's a wonderful world...
...eccentricities, Lane is a third-generation banker whose father was Citizens & Southern's longtime president. Lane himself joined the bank as a clerk after his graduation from Yale in 1934, soon found that the Depression had left Atlanta's banking community "old and tired." Churning with fresh ideas, he rose quickly through the ranks, becoming a first vice president in 1939. When Lane, still only 34, moved up to president in 1946 (his father had died the year before), he took over a bank that was lagging far behind Atlanta's First National, the city...
...companion volume of sorts is The Tower of Babel, a spy novel about Middle East tensions in the period just before the Six-Day War; it has no faults except that it is neither tense nor in any way Middle Eastern. The wily Lebanese banker, the fanatic Syrian colonel, the Israeli undercover agent and his trusty Damascan mistress all speak as if their lines had been written for them by-to pick an absurd example-a plonking Australian novelist named Morris West, author of The Shoes of the Fisherman. This is Eric Ambler territory, and no Western writer less accustomed...