Lynn "The Loaner" Steel was a woman miles ahead of her time. She was born to a family of modest means in 1898 in Ripley, New York and from an early age, exhibited an uncanny knack for numbers and a sharp business acumen that allowed her to confidently shine in a male-dominated world. By the time she reached her early twenties, she’d taken over the small-town bank her late father had run, steering it with such skill that her reputation spread. But what really set her apart was her clandestine role in one of the riskiest trades of the Prohibition era: rum running. With her proximity to Lake Erie and the Canadian border, Lynn realized she was in the perfect position to become a player in the lucrative world of bootleg alcohol. She quietly acquired a few speedy boats and struck up a partnership with a Canadian contact near Peacock Point in Ontario named Claude Pierre, and quickly became one of the most notorious—and elusive—rum runners in New York.
With rich, dark brown hair often tucked under a chic cloche hat, Lynn cut a striking figure, and her beauty was only rivaled by her sharp mind. She earned the nickname "The Loaner" both for her banking savvy and her knack for lending aid to those in need—often quietly slipping a few dollars to families struggling to make ends meet in the unforgiving 1920s. This authentic generosity was balanced with her cunning in the bootleg game. Known for running shipments under cover of fog, she kept her routes secret and her crew small and by the end of the Prohibition, she had an extensive network that stretched from Ripley’s shores to Ontario docks, and whispers of her success reached the highest levels of the bootlegging underworld. The true heart of her enterprise, however, was a secret hidden beneath the bank’s floors.
"The Vault" was Lynn’s speakeasy, and became a haven for New York's elite and daring, luring politicians, gangsters, as well as the everyday locals that helped conceal her secret livelihood. She kept patrons entertained with live jazz, and her cocktails became the stuff of legend. Cleverly concealed behind a secret panel, The Vault appeared, from the outside, as nothing more than a nondescript part of the bank’s architecture. Lynn had painstakingly designed it to be as inviting as it was secret, ensuring no trace of her operation ever encroached on the bank’s outward purpose. As prohibition roared on, she became something of a folk hero in Ripley, not just for her successful banking business but for the way she ran the speakeasy. Known for treating her patrons and employees alike with kindness, she made sure The Vault felt safe for everyone who entered. She often encouraged up-and-coming musicians and performers to take the stage, and for many of them, it was a stepping stone to broader acclaim. Lynn’s ties to the community ran deep, and she remained devoted to it, even as she danced on the edge of danger with her nightly shipments.
In a world that often underestimated her, Lynn Steel was unstoppable. Her legacy became one of daring and compassion, embodying the spirit of a woman who could navigate both the worlds of finance and the underworld with equal grace. To this day, locals in Ripley still tell stories of Lynn Steel—the fearless, pioneering woman who ran a bank by day and smuggled bootleg liquor by night, forever cementing her legacy as “The Loaner”.