MICHELE NORRIS, host:
When the giant bank Washington Mutual failed in September and was bought by JPMorgan, not much changed for the bank's clients, but its employees were laid off by the thousands. This week, some of the workers in Seattle where the bank has its headquarters decided to throw themselves a party, a WaMu Wake. And reporter Chana Joffe-Walt was there.
CHANA JOFFE-WALT: Iris Glaze told me to find her at the bar before the party. Look for the short, gray, round, and very cute woman, she told me. And there she was, hugging me and telling me she really hopes she won't cry like an idiot all night.
Ms. IRIS GLAZE (Employee, Washington Mutual): I wanted so much to retire with this company. And to think that I am going to be unemployed soon with so many other wonderfully qualified people, I have to tell you honestly that I have my bad thoughts. But why bother? Why would I want to dwell on the bad thoughts?
JOFFE-WALT: Thoughts, for instance, about her job in investor relations where people used to call her to thank her, and now they call to say things she can't say on the radio. End of January, Iris is out of a job. JPMorgan will lay off 9,200 Washington Mutual people this year. So, Iris says, time to have fun together, relax, get drunk with your boss. She heads off dispensing hugs, and a Beatles cover band takes the stage. Now, as it turns out, when your company fails and you're jobless in a recession, the Beatles is apparently just the thing.
(Soundbite of song "Help")
Unidentified Cover Band: (Singing) Help, I need somebody. Help, not just anybody.
JOFFE-WALT: The club fills up with WaMu casualties, and they are shouting along, bouncing. Throughout the set, they are literally high-fiving each other while yelling, "Tell me why you cry, and why you lied to me." In a break, the emcee even makes up his own words.
Unidentified Emcee: (Singing) I should have known better than to hold that stock.
(Soundbite of people cheering)
JOFFE-WALT: This room is full of people who lost their jobs in the most dramatic way. Their employer disappeared overnight in the middle of a global economic collapse. They're hundreds of HR people, tech support, investor relations who, for the most part, had really nothing to do with the subprime loans that brought the bank down. But this party is full of love and sentimental affection for the company that gambled these people's savings and jobs on risky loans, a company that many of them really loved and devoted their lives to. So when the emcees start auctioning off Washington Mutual paraphernalia, people are rushing to bid.
Unidentified Emcee: OK. This is quite a collector's item. So, let's start the bidding at $25...
JOFFE-WALT: A "free checking sign" goes for $55. A Kerry Killinger bobble head - that's the former WaMu CEO - fetches 225. And a bidding war starts over 20 years of annual reports. Really, they go for more than $200, too. The money will all go to a WaMu alumni fund for education. Perhaps, the emcee says, your kids really will be able to go to college. Kaisa Sidell is sitting towards the back of the club. She's been with Washington Mutual 27-and-a-half years.
Ms. KAISA SIDELL (Employee, Washington Mutual): I think most people need a way to have some closure when they've invested a lot of time in their lives, and I have. A lot of my identity has been associated with this company. I've been proud of it for most of its existence, and I'm sad to see it go.
JOFFE-WALT: For WaMu lifers like Kaisa and Iris, their legacy is now attached to the largest bank failure in history. Tonight seems to be about reclaiming that story and leaving with heads held high.
(Soundbite of music)
JOFFE-WALT: The very last act of the night is more music - two employees with a special song written for tonight.
(Soundbite of music)
Unidentified Vocalists: Goodbye, WaMu, goodbye. Goodbye, WaMu, goodbye.
JOFFE-WALT: This is when Iris starts to cry. She's up on stage with the band, covers her mouth, and turns her back to the audience.
(Soundbite of music)
Unidentified Vocalists: Goodbye, WaMu, goodbye, WaMu, We'll all remember you.
JOFFE-WALT: A teary woman leans to my ear and whispers, we all needed a different ending. This one is way better. For NPR News, I'm Chana Joffe-Walt in Seattle.