John Fogerty

I get down to the parking lot in the basement of this tall building in Oakland, and I'm with the guy that runs my office, and I say it.

we're going to have to have another meeting because even though I told him I want to get out of the plan, I didn't stand up like on the table and go, I'm ordering you and you and you get me out of the plan.

I realized they could weasel some more time until I actually pointed.

So the next week I showed up and did that.

I'm ordering you get me out.

Okay.

Out of the plan.

Right.

Um,

Pretty quickly after that, a week or two, we hear that the bank has closed.

There's a telegram that apparently was sent on Valentine's Day.

And the bank president has died.

He died in a sauna.

I've seen that movie, you know, where Abbott and Costello, and the mob comes in, and they're in those heat things that are up here, and the guy sticks a broom in the door so you can't get out.

I mean, except that this was serious, and there will be no more withdrawals until—

until this thing is understood.

A bank president dies, you don't close the Bank of America.

You still can go get your money.

And so pretty quick after that, it all just disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Oh.