By Gordon Williams,
Associate Editor
IN FOUR words one man convinced more than a dozen people that there is hope for all Jamaica.
"Let's form a line," said Ralph Tain yesterday, the first business day of the year.
Mr. Tain, a greying man days away from his 53rd birthday, had no real desire to order about anxious patrons in front of the Bank of Nova Scotia on Knutsford Boulevard, five minutes before the 9:00 a.m. opening hour. He was only making a suggestion.
The people listened. Then they stared at Mr. Tain for a while.
Mr. Tain: "OK I'll go to the back of the line to start it off."
The people edged towards Mr. Tain.
They formed a line.
For the first time in my memory no one was rushing to the door at a minute to 9:00. No pressing against the glass. No jostling. No pushing. No shoving or elbowing.
Mr. Tain smiled.
"I am terrified by the way people operate at the bank door in the mornings," he would say later. "It's like a stampede."
Mr. Tain did not want a stampede. Not on the first business day of the year. Not in one of the country's most prestigious business districts. Not anymore.
"I just felt it makes more sense to line up," he said.
Not everyone agreed. Most of those who arrived at the bank after Mr. Tain's initial call did what they always do. They hustled to the door. One woman, dressed in jeans and a sleeveless floral blouse, noticed there was no one pressing against her, pushing her along, like it used to be. She looked around.
"Is this a genuine line?" she finally asked after glancing at the human chain running along the corridor outside the bank's door, most already stressed under the heat of an already fierce rising sun.
"It's just a line," a man said. "Just a line."
She joined.
Other latecomers stood around. Black people. Brown people. White people. Yellow people. They didn't join the line, but they didn't rush towards the door either.
At a minute past 9:00, those at BNS started to get anxious. An elderly man who did not join the line moved to the door. He pressed against the glass, trying to see inside.
"It's after nine," he blurted out. "Why don't they open the door? now!"
No one in the line followed his lead.
At the bank directly across the street, the crowd at the door was much smaller. There was no sun. There was no line either.
At 9:00 there was a rush.
I shook Mr. Tain's hand. He offered a wide grin.
