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    A Tote of Tough Tales
    A Tote of Tough Tales
    A Tote of Tough Tales
    Ebook101 pages1 hour

    A Tote of Tough Tales

    By Alexander Reed

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    About this ebook

    This is a collection of short stories, each dealing with customs and cultures of a different country. The unusual plots bring out bits of interesting history that have been largely forgotten or distorted with time.

    Finally, philosophical issues related to the tales are thrown in to make for interesting reading.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthorHouse
    Release dateJul 15, 2015
    ISBN9781504922760
    A Tote of Tough Tales
    Author

    Alexander Reed

    Alexander Reed graduated from Amherst College and Harvard Law School, served as an officer in the United States in the Pacific in World War II and practiced law for several years in Pittsburgh, USA. He then embarked on an international financial career and for forty years lived or worked in some thirty different countries, representing several United States banking institutions.

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      Book preview

      A Tote of Tough Tales - Alexander Reed

      AuthorHouse™

      1663 Liberty Drive

      Bloomington, IN 47403

      www.authorhouse.com

      Phone: 1 (800) 839-8640

      Except for the first selection in this book, entitled A Different Life, which is the authors autobiography, these stories are all works of fiction, and all characters, their names, and the incidents narrated, while sometimes based on actual events and customs, are products of the authors imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or locales is entirely coincidental.

      © 2015 Alexander Reed. All rights reserved.

      No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

      Published by AuthorHouse 07/14/2015

      ISBN: 978-1-5049-2275-3 (sc)

      ISBN: 978-1-5049-2276-0 (e)

      Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

      and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

      Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

      Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

      Contents

      A Different Life

      Saint Patrick’s Battalion

      Cycles and Customs

      Baked Goods and Ideas

      The Wrong Medicine

      The Celebrity

      Madame Lynch’s Property

      Pay Scales in the Stans

      Dedicated to Lu, Wendy, Jennifer and Jeanne

      Here are some short stories with a wide diversity of locales, plots, themes, and purposes. They were written over a period of time and gathered here as my end of life, written detritus. Each is based on some personal experience, a bit of knowledge, or imagination. You might find amusement in determining on what base each story developed. But to do so, you should know some details of my life. I therefore start with a short autobiography.

      A Different Life

      This brief autobiography is a bit crowded. I had four professional careers and five sincere, significant female relationships. I thank God, or quantum physics, or whatever, for the long life I had to enjoy them all. And one way or another I did indeed enjoy them all. Let’s look first at the careers - law, banking, international business consulting, and authorship.

      I grew up in a normal, stable, middle class family with three sisters in Pittsburgh, PA. My father was a lawyer turned banker. Note that for later - lawyer turned banker. He had enough resources to send me to Amherst College. Since it was early WWII, like many classmates in our freshman year, I volunteered and was accepted for the Navy. I was then trained over the next year or so in navigation, meteorology, anti-mine, anti-submarine warfare, etc. at Williams College, Notre Dame University (A three month midshipman course. We graduated as Ensigns and were called 90 day wonders), and Miami and Key West Naval training stations.

      Incidentally, the first Saturday night at Notre Dame my roommate and I stayed out a bit over the limit and were therefore confined to the Notre Dame campus for our three months there. We couldn’t even attend a sporting event. As a result we both studied intensely, and he graduated third and I fourth in a class of one thousand. The two men ahead of us were mustangs, i.e., old salt enlisted men who had been recommended for officer training. With this record, we were recommended for any duty we wished.

      Thinking of PT boats, I requested small craft duty. I was rewarded, but not with a PT assignment, but rather small antisubmarine and mine sweeping ships. The duties at Miami and Key West were in preparation for such service. An exciting part of the training at Key West was to go down daily for a week in WW I, repeat I, antiquated submarines to try to outwit patrol craft training above us. These old tubs shook and wheezed but did their job admirably. Yes, I was a bit nervous at times.

      I finally went to war and spent two years as an officer on four different minesweeping ships in the Pacific. Some boring patrol duty and then eight months in post-war Japan, cleaning up mines which our Air Force had dropped at the entrances to the country’s major harbors. This involved some delicate and complex ship handling at the con. The proudest moment of my life till then was when the Navy Department put a (D) after my rank (Ens. (D)), which meant that I was a master ship handler. When you think that a lot of other kids (most of us in our very early twenties) were doing the same, you appreciate that we were the country’s greatest generation. Even though the war was over, we all got battle stars to put on the few service ribbons the military handed out in those days.

      Finally back to finish college, then Harvard Law School. The GI Bill paid a lot of the tuition, which was a big help. Tough atmosphere, competitive; I graduated average. I then went to work for several years in a small Pittsburgh law firm, with a few months as a law clerk to a Pennsylvania circuit judge covering three counties from Lock Haven, PA. Good, down to earth situations. I researched and wrote a couple of his simple opinions. Back in Pittsburgh I labored over a few trusts and wills and settled a few unimportant business disputes. As a court appointed defense attorney, I defended some minor criminals. Fascinating. But law practice wasn’t my bag.

      Other things were calling. Growing up in a steel mill town with children of immigrant workers from many parts of the world in my schools, I had always been interested in other countries. Later I deliberately cultivated foreign students at college and law school. This was more than just curiosity. These simple gestures developed into some deep friendships with unexpected results later in life, as you will see.

      Further, after the war I had a fairly constant dream - to understand the big picture, learn how this world of ours worked. How had we generated a Hitler and a General Tojo? Why did we have booms and busts? I knew that reading or simple traveling would not be enough; some first-hand living in another culture or two would be necessary. Throw in a bit of idealism and a large dash of wanderlust

      How does a lawyer do that and maintain a decent career? In post WWII, all countries lacked international monetary liquidity (called the dollar gap), maintained high tariffs, traded little, and suffered dragging economies. Therefore, only a few USA enterprises had physical presences abroad. Further, a young guy or girl couldn’t just go abroad and find a job. However, the First National City Bank of New York (now Citibank) had a global prewar branch system, greatly weakened by WWII. Well, how about another lawyer turned banker in the Reed family?

      My law practice took me to New York one day. I bit the bullet and called on the head of Citibank’s Overseas Division. He was a tough, old foreign exchange trader. I emphasized my interest and affinity for other ethnicities and cultures. We hit it off in a long conversation, and he suggested that I try international banking for two years. If it didn’t fit, I could always go back to law practice. I was quickly on board his Division.

      About six months of banking orientation, and I was soon a foreign exchange trader myself in Brazil. From day one I loved the work.

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