I worked in the banking industry for more than 33 years, leaving the profession in 1996. Over that time, and especially since, the industry has changed beyond recognition.
Today, it often feels as though a local bank branch is no longer capable of administering even basic products and services without referring customers to a third party, a call centre, or a head office that may or may not contact you days later.
That was not always the case.
In the 1960s and 1970s, a bank branch was very much a one-stop shop. What follows is not an exhaustive list, and I acknowledge that one or two of these services may still exist in some form today. But they reflect a style of banking that was local, personal, flexible – and occasionally hair-raising.
Foreign currency and gift cheques
We accepted foreign currency from virtually anywhere in the world. Exchange rates were updated daily. Rare currencies were sent away for collection and conversion. Foreign cheques were accepted without fuss. We also supplied most currencies for overseas travel.
Gift cheques were hugely popular. These were beautifully coloured cheques decorated with scrolls and symbols – a suitcase for travel, a stork for birth, a mortar board for graduation. They came in folders illustrated with waratahs, koalas, kangaroos and native fruits, and could be cashed by the recipient. They were a staple of birthdays and Christmas.
Travel: Banking before travel agents
Banks once did the work of today’s travel agents. We had our own internal travel department. Flights, accommodation, tours, cruises, foreign currency, travel insurance, letters of credit – everything. The final package was presented personally in an expensive folder. Used by many other bank’s customers.
Loans: Approved on the spot
Personal loans ($50,000), housing loans ($300,000) and credit cards ($10,000) – were approved on the spot by the branch manager. As a young manager, my business lending delegation was $2 million in new money, plus another $1 million for refinancing.
We prepared approval letters, conducted searches, arranged mortgage documents, and attended settlements ourselves – handing over bank cheques in exchange for title deeds, discharged mortgages, withdrawal of caveats, and all relevant associated documents. Contract solicitors were unheard of.
In some wealthy country branches, lending was based largely on trust. A farmer might ring in a panic asking to overdraw his working account by many thousands to buy a tractor or whatever. I’d make a note on his file and ledger sheet so that staff would post his cheques way over his overdraft limit without referral. Always adjusted from the next crop. No paperwork. No fees. Try that today?
Unusual-but effective-arrangements
Some practices would never be condoned now.
At one country branch, many town workers from the local meatworks regularly took out small loans – often under $1000 – to pay funeral costs for a deceased ‘aunty’ or ‘uncle’. These new loans often occurred when there was one instalment remaining to pay off the old loan. When I checked the history, several employees had buried an extraordinary number of relatives over the years. Who knows how the funds were spent. These loans were repaid without fail because repayments were deducted by the meatworks from their wages and sent direct to the bank. Never any arrears!
In Wollongong, BHP employed around 34,000 workers at one time. Many sought unsecured personal loans. Enter a well-known local ‘Godfather’, who would stroll into the bank and sign a bundle of blank guarantee documents – no amounts, no names. We filled in the details later. Not one borrower ever missed a payment.
Counter cheques and gentle rule-bending
Some clubs were issued with un-domiciled cheque books – blank cheques with no bank or branch printed thereon. A NSW threepenny duty stamp affixed thereon made them a negotiable instrument. Patrons could write their own bank details and cash the cheque at the bar.
One regular at the Narrabri Bowling Club would repeatedly alter the same counter cheque – $20, then $40, then more. One Bowling Club deposit contained a counter cheque for $120 with multiple amendments and several signature attempts. We knew our customer had a good night.
Occasionally, and only for customers he knew well, a fellow banker would deliberately return a cheque marked ‘Present again in 10 days’, giving the customer time to quickly deposit sufficient funds before the cheque was re-presentation. Otherwise, the cheque would be simply dishonoured with the words ‘Refer to Drawer’ on the reverse. I heard of other managers deliberately altering the figures on a cheque which meant that the amount was different to the words. They then dishonoured the cheque with the words ‘Amounts Differ’ on the reverse. That gave the customer a chance to deposit funds by the time the cheque was corrected and re-presented.
Government agent to the state
As a state government-owned institution, we administered a staggering range of government schemes – 82 categories in total. The Rural Industries Agency alone accounted for 51. This involved customers from all the other banks.
We processed applications for bushfire relief, flood relief, drought assistance, cereal growers, fodder conservation, herd improvement, soil conservation, farm water supplies, irrigation, control of serrated tussock, flood-damaged sporting clubs, banana growers, apiarists, tobacco farmers and lifting houses beyond flood level and many more.
At one branch, I accepted and processed drought relief and flood relief applications simultaneously after a drought broke with torrential rain. Head office in the city was in a dither and rang to confirm this was even possible.
We also acted as agent for the Rural Assistance Board, administrating debt reconstruction and farm build-up loans for customers of other banks. No other bank did this type of work and therefore our loans officers were highly skilled and extremely knowledgeable.
When banking turned dangerous
During a prolonged severe drought, I accompanied the local sheriff to a destitute farm. The debts well exceeded the property’s value. The bank had organised a clearing sale however, out of respect for the World War II digger, no one turned up. Papers were drawn up to take possession of the place as mortgagee. As we approached the front paddock gate, I saw the owner pointing a double-barrelled shotgun at us. We withdrew immediately.
I went back to the office and recommended the farmer remain on his land as a paid ‘caretaker’ rather than see everything fall into ruin. Years later, with better seasons, much of the debt was repaid.
On another occasion, a frustrated customer rang my wife at home after repeatedly failing to withdraw cash from an ATM and hinted he knew where our children went to school. I was out on a deep-sea trawler trying to finish off a loan application with a customer and it was the weekend. I contacted the police, closed his overdrawn cheque/savings account – and confiscated his cheque book and ATM card. He had tried the same tactic at another bank.
I’ll refrain from telling other similar stories lest I incriminate the innocent.
From cash to clicks
One major building society regularly deposited more than $1 million in cash each day – all had to be counted by hand involving several staff. Then sorted into two bundles – re-issuable and mutilated. Today, branches hold minimal cash and you are now required to explain why you need to withdraw bulk amounts of cash and then there is the Cash Management Transaction Act. Cheques are fast disappearing and some businesses won’t accept cash at all. In fact, they now want you to do their banking for them.
There was a Bill drawn up to be debated in Parliament whereby an expiry date was to be embossed on all new bank notes and that the public would be given an agreed period to hand in pre-dated notes to negate hoarding. That Bill remains in limbo.
In 2012, processing a cheque cost $7.69 compared to $1.21 for an electronic payment. One naturally expects a cheque to be written on paper, but in 1957 a US magazine reported a cheque for $1000 was issued as a stunt in Texas. It was painted on a watermelon and was paid on presentation.
From Lloyds Bank in England, the stronghold of conservative banking came a report of cheques written on: the label of a champagne bottle, an egg, a piece of wood, and the dress shirt of a customer. The most unusual cheque Reported by Lloyds Bank was written on a balloon, fully blown. In spite of its inflationary character, it was paid. Such cheques would not be honoured in NSW because they must have carranhad an impressed duty stamp.
Security, cash – and revolvers
In 1964, earning £439 ($878) a year, I was issued with a fully loaded Smith & Wesson .38 revolver, holstered under the counter. Each week I carried a Gladstone bag full of mutilated notes – up to $50,000 – to the Commonwealth Bank in Narrabri for eventual destruction. I wore stove-pipe trousers with tight pockets and pointy-toe shoes, which was the fashion at the time, consequently the revolver on my hip was very noticeable in public. I must admit I took advantage of the situation and made sure my mates saw me.
At another branch I challenged senior police and detectives to target shooting at the local rubbish tip. The losers to buy drinks. The tellers, including one young girl, easily outshot the police. Could you imagine 17-year-old kids walking around the streets with loaded revolvers? Unthinkable today.
We had to sign a Declaration of Secrecy, when joining the bank, forbidding us from divulging any confidential information about our customers. On one occasion I was in a group of people and they were laughing about a Narrabri identity who placed a ten-shilling note in the brim of his hat to avoid being arrested for larceny. Everyone thought he didn’t have two pennies to rub together. He actually banked with us and I knew his account contained many thousands of pounds. It was tempting to set the group straight.
February 14, 1966
On June 6, 1963 the Treasurer Mr Harold Holt (later Prime Minister in 1966 before his mysterious disappearance on December 17, 1967) announced the new name for Australia’s currency to commence on February 14, 1966. The new bank notes were to be called ‘Royals’. I still have the newspaper clipping. The president of the Royal Historical Society Mr AE Bax thought it was a much better choice than ‘Austral’. The final decision was to be left to Cabinet, Treasury and the Reserve Bank. The new name was derived from the English ‘ryal’ or ‘royal’ used in the 15th century. Mr Holt said the government was confident the public would soon become used to the new name after the novelty had worn off. The Chairman of the Sydney Stock Exchange Mr AH Urquhart said he did not think the Royal would be overly popular or general accepted. He was right!
I recall the armoured truck arriving at Narrabri unloading boxes of the new Australian currency. It actually looked like Monopoly money. We closed the bank doors for two days to manually convert all the ledgers, books, journals from pounds shillings and pence to dollars and cents. I was a teller at the time and processed many transactions for the older generation who had survived the Great War and the Great Depression. They did not trust banks and were led to believe the old currency would be worthless after the changeover. Consequently, I saw an amazing assortment of containers full of neatly folded valuable old notes issued prior to World War II. Their musty odour indicated the time these notes had been hidden in underground private storage.
Today, I wished that I had made some effort to swap them and keep same for the grandkids – but I was broke. It felt quite strange destroying tens of thousands of good quality bank notes and piles of traveller’s cheques.
Incidentally, the meltdown value of a 1966 round 50 cent coin, in late January 2026, was $57.67. Over 36 million were minted and they comprise 80 per cent silver and 20 per cent copper. The dodecagonal shape 50 cent coins today comprise 75 per cent copper and 25 per cent nickel.
Please feel free to call at the Narrabri Shire Library and ask for my self-published book “Behind the Counter” ISBN 978-0-646-9227-8 to find out more about life in the bank 1092-1995.
Richard Barry OAM
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When banks were a one-stop shop: A life behind the counter
Feb 27, 2026
I worked in the banking industry for more than 33 years, leaving the profession in 1996. Over that time, and especially since, the industry has changed beyond recognition.
Today, it often feels as though a local bank branch is no longer capable of administering even basic products and services without referring customers to a third party, a call centre, or a head office that may or may not contact you days later.
That was not always the case.
In the 1960s and 1970s, a bank branch was very much a one-stop shop. What follows is not an exhaustive list, and I acknowledge that one or two of these services may still exist in some form today. But they reflect a style of banking that was local, personal, flexible – and occasionally hair-raising.
Foreign currency and gift cheques
We accepted foreign currency from virtually anywhere in the world. Exchange rates were updated daily. Rare currencies were sent away for collection and conversion. Foreign cheques were accepted without fuss. We also supplied most currencies for overseas travel.
Gift cheques were hugely popular. These were beautifully coloured cheques decorated with scrolls and symbols – a suitcase for travel, a stork for birth, a mortar board for graduation. They came in folders illustrated with waratahs, koalas, kangaroos and native fruits, and could be cashed by the recipient. They were a staple of birthdays and Christmas.
Travel: Banking before travel agents
Banks once did the work of today’s travel agents. We had our own internal travel department. Flights, accommodation, tours, cruises, foreign currency, travel insurance, letters of credit – everything. The final package was presented personally in an expensive folder. Used by many other bank’s customers.
Loans: Approved on the spot
Personal loans ($50,000), housing loans ($300,000) and credit cards ($10,000) – were approved on the spot by the branch manager. As a young manager, my business lending delegation was $2 million in new money, plus another $1 million for refinancing.
We prepared approval letters, conducted searches, arranged mortgage documents, and attended settlements ourselves – handing over bank cheques in exchange for title deeds, discharged mortgages, withdrawal of caveats, and all relevant associated documents. Contract solicitors were unheard of.
In some wealthy country branches, lending was based largely on trust. A farmer might ring in a panic asking to overdraw his working account by many thousands to buy a tractor or whatever. I’d make a note on his file and ledger sheet so that staff would post his cheques way over his overdraft limit without referral. Always adjusted from the next crop. No paperwork. No fees. Try that today?
Unusual-but effective-arrangements
Some practices would never be condoned now.
At one country branch, many town workers from the local meatworks regularly took out small loans – often under $1000 – to pay funeral costs for a deceased ‘aunty’ or ‘uncle’. These new loans often occurred when there was one instalment remaining to pay off the old loan. When I checked the history, several employees had buried an extraordinary number of relatives over the years. Who knows how the funds were spent. These loans were repaid without fail because repayments were deducted by the meatworks from their wages and sent direct to the bank. Never any arrears!
In Wollongong, BHP employed around 34,000 workers at one time. Many sought unsecured personal loans. Enter a well-known local ‘Godfather’, who would stroll into the bank and sign a bundle of blank guarantee documents – no amounts, no names. We filled in the details later. Not one borrower ever missed a payment.
Counter cheques and gentle rule-bending
Some clubs were issued with un-domiciled cheque books – blank cheques with no bank or branch printed thereon. A NSW threepenny duty stamp affixed thereon made them a negotiable instrument. Patrons could write their own bank details and cash the cheque at the bar.
One regular at the Narrabri Bowling Club would repeatedly alter the same counter cheque – $20, then $40, then more. One Bowling Club deposit contained a counter cheque for $120 with multiple amendments and several signature attempts. We knew our customer had a good night.
Occasionally, and only for customers he knew well, a fellow banker would deliberately return a cheque marked ‘Present again in 10 days’, giving the customer time to quickly deposit sufficient funds before the cheque was re-presentation. Otherwise, the cheque would be simply dishonoured with the words ‘Refer to Drawer’ on the reverse. I heard of other managers deliberately altering the figures on a cheque which meant that the amount was different to the words. They then dishonoured the cheque with the words ‘Amounts Differ’ on the reverse. That gave the customer a chance to deposit funds by the time the cheque was corrected and re-presented.
Government agent to the state
As a state government-owned institution, we administered a staggering range of government schemes – 82 categories in total. The Rural Industries Agency alone accounted for 51. This involved customers from all the other banks.
We processed applications for bushfire relief, flood relief, drought assistance, cereal growers, fodder conservation, herd improvement, soil conservation, farm water supplies, irrigation, control of serrated tussock, flood-damaged sporting clubs, banana growers, apiarists, tobacco farmers and lifting houses beyond flood level and many more.
At one branch, I accepted and processed drought relief and flood relief applications simultaneously after a drought broke with torrential rain. Head office in the city was in a dither and rang to confirm this was even possible.
We also acted as agent for the Rural Assistance Board, administrating debt reconstruction and farm build-up loans for customers of other banks. No other bank did this type of work and therefore our loans officers were highly skilled and extremely knowledgeable.
When banking turned dangerous
During a prolonged severe drought, I accompanied the local sheriff to a destitute farm. The debts well exceeded the property’s value. The bank had organised a clearing sale however, out of respect for the World War II digger, no one turned up. Papers were drawn up to take possession of the place as mortgagee. As we approached the front paddock gate, I saw the owner pointing a double-barrelled shotgun at us. We withdrew immediately.
I went back to the office and recommended the farmer remain on his land as a paid ‘caretaker’ rather than see everything fall into ruin. Years later, with better seasons, much of the debt was repaid.
On another occasion, a frustrated customer rang my wife at home after repeatedly failing to withdraw cash from an ATM and hinted he knew where our children went to school. I was out on a deep-sea trawler trying to finish off a loan application with a customer and it was the weekend. I contacted the police, closed his overdrawn cheque/savings account – and confiscated his cheque book and ATM card. He had tried the same tactic at another bank.
I’ll refrain from telling other similar stories lest I incriminate the innocent.
From cash to clicks
One major building society regularly deposited more than $1 million in cash each day – all had to be counted by hand involving several staff. Then sorted into two bundles – re-issuable and mutilated. Today, branches hold minimal cash and you are now required to explain why you need to withdraw bulk amounts of cash and then there is the Cash Management Transaction Act. Cheques are fast disappearing and some businesses won’t accept cash at all. In fact, they now want you to do their banking for them.
There was a Bill drawn up to be debated in Parliament whereby an expiry date was to be embossed on all new bank notes and that the public would be given an agreed period to hand in pre-dated notes to negate hoarding. That Bill remains in limbo.
In 2012, processing a cheque cost $7.69 compared to $1.21 for an electronic payment. One naturally expects a cheque to be written on paper, but in 1957 a US magazine reported a cheque for $1000 was issued as a stunt in Texas. It was painted on a watermelon and was paid on presentation.
From Lloyds Bank in England, the stronghold of conservative banking came a report of cheques written on: the label of a champagne bottle, an egg, a piece of wood, and the dress shirt of a customer. The most unusual cheque Reported by Lloyds Bank was written on a balloon, fully blown. In spite of its inflationary character, it was paid. Such cheques would not be honoured in NSW because they must have carranhad an impressed duty stamp.
Security, cash – and revolvers
In 1964, earning £439 ($878) a year, I was issued with a fully loaded Smith & Wesson .38 revolver, holstered under the counter. Each week I carried a Gladstone bag full of mutilated notes – up to $50,000 – to the Commonwealth Bank in Narrabri for eventual destruction. I wore stove-pipe trousers with tight pockets and pointy-toe shoes, which was the fashion at the time, consequently the revolver on my hip was very noticeable in public. I must admit I took advantage of the situation and made sure my mates saw me.
At another branch I challenged senior police and detectives to target shooting at the local rubbish tip. The losers to buy drinks. The tellers, including one young girl, easily outshot the police. Could you imagine 17-year-old kids walking around the streets with loaded revolvers? Unthinkable today.
We had to sign a Declaration of Secrecy, when joining the bank, forbidding us from divulging any confidential information about our customers. On one occasion I was in a group of people and they were laughing about a Narrabri identity who placed a ten-shilling note in the brim of his hat to avoid being arrested for larceny. Everyone thought he didn’t have two pennies to rub together. He actually banked with us and I knew his account contained many thousands of pounds. It was tempting to set the group straight.
February 14, 1966
On June 6, 1963 the Treasurer Mr Harold Holt (later Prime Minister in 1966 before his mysterious disappearance on December 17, 1967) announced the new name for Australia’s currency to commence on February 14, 1966. The new bank notes were to be called ‘Royals’. I still have the newspaper clipping. The president of the Royal Historical Society Mr AE Bax thought it was a much better choice than ‘Austral’. The final decision was to be left to Cabinet, Treasury and the Reserve Bank. The new name was derived from the English ‘ryal’ or ‘royal’ used in the 15th century. Mr Holt said the government was confident the public would soon become used to the new name after the novelty had worn off. The Chairman of the Sydney Stock Exchange Mr AH Urquhart said he did not think the Royal would be overly popular or general accepted. He was right!
I recall the armoured truck arriving at Narrabri unloading boxes of the new Australian currency. It actually looked like Monopoly money. We closed the bank doors for two days to manually convert all the ledgers, books, journals from pounds shillings and pence to dollars and cents. I was a teller at the time and processed many transactions for the older generation who had survived the Great War and the Great Depression. They did not trust banks and were led to believe the old currency would be worthless after the changeover. Consequently, I saw an amazing assortment of containers full of neatly folded valuable old notes issued prior to World War II. Their musty odour indicated the time these notes had been hidden in underground private storage.
Today, I wished that I had made some effort to swap them and keep same for the grandkids – but I was broke. It felt quite strange destroying tens of thousands of good quality bank notes and piles of traveller’s cheques.
Incidentally, the meltdown value of a 1966 round 50 cent coin, in late January 2026, was $57.67. Over 36 million were minted and they comprise 80 per cent silver and 20 per cent copper. The dodecagonal shape 50 cent coins today comprise 75 per cent copper and 25 per cent nickel.
Please feel free to call at the Narrabri Shire Library and ask for my self-published book “Behind the Counter” ISBN 978-0-646-9227-8 to find out more about life in the bank 1092-1995.
Richard Barry OAM