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ATM machines are holding everyones money Wednesday This is terrible - People are trying to take out money Wednesday and machines are not giving them funds they have available.

This is what you need to do

Its You have to read this Many who just deposited funds this morning couldnt even access it immediately after. This could be dooms day

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This novel was both a joy and a challenge to write; a
death of my grandmother in 1951, my grandfather became transfixed by the idea of building a collection with his son. During the summers, my grandfather and dad would travel by train to the various mints to collect the new coins firsthand or visit various coin shows in the Southeast. In time, my grandfather and dad established relationships with coin dealers across the country, and my grandfather spent a fortune over the years trading up and improving the collection. Unlike Louis Eliasberg, however, my grandfather wasnt richhe owned a general store in Burgaw that went out of business when the Piggly Wiggly opened its doors across townand never had a chance at matching Eliasbergs collection. Even so, every extra dollar went into coins. My grandfather wore the same jacket for thirty years, drove the same car his entire life, and Im pretty sure my dad went to work for the postal service instead of heading off to college because there wasnt a dime left over to pay for anything beyond a high school education. He was an odd duck, thats for sure, as was my dad. Like father, like son, as the old saying goes. When the old man finally passed away, he specified in his will that his house be sold and the money used to purchase even more coins, which was exactly what my dad probably would have done anyway. By the time my dad inherited the collection, it was already quite valuable. When inflation went through the roof and gold hit $850 an ounce, it was worth a small fortune, more than enough for my frugal dad to retire a few times over and more than it would be worth a quarter century later.

But neither my grandfather nor my dad had been into collecting for the money; they were in it for the thrill of the hunt and the bond it created between them. There was something exciting about searching long and hard for a specific coin, finally locating it, then wheeling and dealing to get it for the right price. Sometimes a coin was affordable, other times it wasnt, but each and every piece they added was a treasure. My dad hoped to share the same passion with me, including the sacrifice it required. Grog up, I had to sleep with extra blankets in the ter, and I got a single pair of new shoes every year; there was never money for my clothes, unless they came from the Salvation Army. My dad didnt even own a camera. The only picture ever taken of us was at a coin show in Atlanta. A dealer snapped it as we stood before his booth and sent it to us. For years it was perched on my dads desk. In the photo, my dad had his arm dd over my shoulder, and we were both beaming. In my hand, I was holding a 1926D buffalo nickel in gem condition, a coin that my dad had just purchased. It was among the rarest of all buffalo nickels, and we ended up eating hot dogs and beans for a month, since it cost more than hed expected.

a man named Louis Eliasberg, a Baltimore financier who is the
only person to have assembled a complete collection of United States coins, including all the various dates and mint marks. His collection rivaled, if not surpassed, the collection at the Smithsonian, and after the But I didnt mind the sacrificesfor a while, anyway. When my dad started talking to me about coinsI must have been in the first or second grade at the timehe spoke to me like an equal. Having an adult, especially your dad, treat you like an equal is a heady thing for any young , and I basked in the attention, absorbing the information. In time, I could tell you how many SaintGaudens double eagles were minted in 1927 as compared with 1924 and why an 1895 Barber dime minted in New Orleans was ten times more valuable than the same coin minted in the same year in Philadelphia. I still can, by the way. Yet unlike my dad, I eventually began to grow out of my passion for collecting.

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