Finders Keepers? Not for These Righteous Citizens

So far, the most heartwarming, “It’s a Wonderful Life”-like story of the holiday season has been that of Jessica Velasquez, the 13-year-old who found an envelope containing $240 of someone else’s money at a Hawthorne bank. She has spent more than two months tirelessly trying to find the rightful owner.

If nobody claims it after 90 days, Jessica gets to keep the money.

But since that won’t be until 1999, private citizens have been sending in donations so that the eighth-grader can have a merrier Christmas.

A few days ago, Hawthorne police handed Jessica an envelope of her own--this one stuffed with more than $1,000.

Now she’s “the richest girl in town,” to steal a phrase from that old Jimmy Stewart movie.

She’s got goodness. She’s got good friends.

And if whoever lost the envelope doesn’t turn up, she’s got 240 more bucks to put in the bank.

*

Dear Jessica:

I read that when you first gave back the money you found at Wells Fargo, a few of your friends said you were crazy not to keep it. Instead, you wisely listened to your mother and father, who told you to “be a good citizen.”

It would have been only human if you had been tempted even for a moment to keep that cash and not tell anybody, because it isn’t every day a person finds $240.

Now, think about this:

How do you suppose you would have felt if you’d found $2,400?

Five years ago, Jessica, that’s exactly what happened to a mother and father from Buena Park and their 11-year-old son.

If you haven’t heard the story of what happened to Tom and Pauline Nichter, you should. Because it’s a classic example of how being honest can affect people’s lives.

In early 1993, the Nichters were browsing in a toy store at a Buena Park mall, even though they had no money to spend on toys.

The father hadn’t worked in a year. The mother also had been laid off from her job. And their unemployment insurance checks had run out.

They had been homeless for close to four months. They lived in a motel. For a while, they slept in their car.

Married for 24 years, the Nichters had a child to raise, and as Tom said at the time, “We were about to give up hope.”

Then, at the toy store, Tom looked down and saw a wallet.

He picked it up, opened it and found identification in the name of a man named Theas Yann, who lived on a South Pacific isle called New Caledonia. The wallet contained a passport, a plane ticket and a number of Yann’s credit cards.

Plus $2,394 in cash.

I don’t know what you would have done, Jessica--no, I do know what you would have done--and I haven’t a clue as to what I would have done, although I’d like to think I’m as honest as a mature 13-year-old.

But what would you have done if your family was broke and virtually living on bread and milk for food?

The Nichters turned in the money.

They went straight to the Buena Park police and turned over the New Caledonia tourist’s wallet. When asked why, Pauline Nichter said, “It wasn’t our money . . . and we didn’t want to set a bad example for our son.”

Yann was tracked down. He came to the Buena Park police station, reclaimed his billfold and met the folks who found it. He shook their hands, thanked them . . . and walked out, not rewarding them a nickel.

So did they do the right thing?

You tell me, Jessica.

A landlord gave the Nichters an apartment in Garden Grove for six months, rent free. Buena Park’s cops began a fund drive, chipping in $300 from their own police association.

An elderly couple from Paradise, Calif., walked into the Buena Park headquarters to ask how much money the Nichters had returned. When told, they wrote a check for $2,400, donated it and walked out.

Pauline Nichter said that March, “It’s like a late Christmas.”

*

Well, that’s the story. I made several calls, to the Buena Park cops and elsewhere, trying to find out how the Nichters are doing these days, but with no luck.

If anybody can let me know, please do.

Meanwhile, Jessica, I know you’ve put a lot of effort into trying to find the person who lost the $240. I hope you do. If he shakes your hand, maybe he’ll put a $20 bill in it.

But if not, that’s OK.

Your real reward is just being you.

Mike Downey’s column appears Sundays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Write to him at Times Mirror Square, Los Angeles 90053, or e-mail mike.downey@latimes.com.