Alas, the amazing tale of our debit cards has a sad footnote. The card that so dissolutely made its way across so many borders before it finally landed in our hands was accidently made out to our son, Frank E. Sorenson, rather than his father Frank O. Sorenson. We didn’t think this was a problem, since Frank is a signer on our bank account during our time abroad. So we started the month with withdrawals to pay our rent and car lease.
This worked very well for us. Too well, in fact. After a few days, during which time we noticed that the bank was slow to take the money out of our account, we got a phone call from Frank. It turns out the money was being withdrawn from his checking account at the same bank, rather than ours.
After a phone call to our bank asking for another new card, the errant card was immediately cancelled, as was Frank’s own card. So now neither Frank has a debit card and we are starting the process over again. Fortunately we don’t think Ellen’s card was cancelled, so if you get a call claiming to be from us needing money, don’t fall for it—as least not yet.
We have noticed that Frank did not name his own sons with his own name, and he has often complained about confused identity in phone calls, mail, financial affairs, and even medical records. On the other hand, at the age of 22, as a college student home for the summer, he was able to walk into a car dealership and purchase a new Nissan, no money down. At the time, I said, “Don’t ever complain again about having your father’s name.” I now hereby withdraw my objection.