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ST. LOUIS — When the nation’s new central bank decided where to put its regional offices in 1914, ӣ����Ƶ was pretty much a lock. It was the fourth-largest U.S. city by population and since 1863 had been one of three designated central reserve cities for national banks.

It would take a decade, though, for ӣ����Ƶ to get a central bank building emblematic of its exalted status. After operating in various rented spaces downtown, the Federal Reserve Bank of ӣ����Ƶ moved into its headquarters at Broadway and Locust Street on June 1, 1925.

The neoclassical building was designed to look solid and secure. The Architectural Record described it as “a veritable strongbox worthy to house the surplus gold of a great banking system.” The basement vault holds cash behind a 90,000-pound, 30-inch-thick door.

Over the past century, the work performed inside the limestone-clad walls has evolved along with the banking system, and the building itself has been expanded several times. Leaders here have had a big influence on U.S. monetary policy, and the ӣ����Ƶ Fed has played a leading role in informing the public about the economy.

Today, the bank’s 1,400 employees handle payments for the U.S. Treasury, supervise banks in parts of seven states, do economic research and engage in community development. They also process 1.8 million pieces of currency per day, weeding out worn or counterfeit notes and bundling the good ones for shipment to banks.

Aside from handling cash and supervising banks, the central bank’s operations were much different 100 years ago. Back then, the Fed’s lobby was busy with bankers and others who came in to pay taxes, redeem savings bonds or collect coupon payments on government securities.

The brass fronts of the old teller windows are still visible in the marble-lined lobby, but the space has been converted to offices and, on the east end, an Economy Museum where visitors can play a simulated trading game and learn how to spot counterfeit currency.

While cash remains a high-volume, high-security business at the Fed, the bank no longer handles paper checks. In 2001, when paper-pushing was at its peak, workers here processed 1.4 million checks and money orders worth more than $650 million.

The check processing operation, which had about 200 employees, shut down in 2009.

Among the thousands of people who have staffed the ӣ����Ƶ Fed over the past century, a few names stand out. William McChesney Martin Jr., Federal Reserve chairman from 1951 to 1970, was the son of the ӣ����Ƶ Fed’s first chairman and worked here briefly in his youth.

Homer Jones, an influential economist who had taught Milton Friedman early in his career, became research director here in 1958. He was a strong proponent of monetarism, the theory that central banks cause inflation by allowing the money supply to grow too quickly.

“Homer really provided the Fed with thought leadership in terms of monetary policy,” said David Wheelock, a senior vice president and adviser to the current ӣ����Ƶ Fed president, Alberto Musalem. Before Jones’ time, regional economists’ role was limited to gathering data about their districts’ economies.

Jones found a strong ally in Darryl Francis, ӣ����Ƶ Fed president from 1966 to 1976. “Francis made a strong case that the Fed needed to pay more attention to inflation,” Wheelock said. “His policy views were supported by the research that Jones’ team was doing.”

Monetarism was a minority point of view at the time. Other Fed policymakers blamed inflation on factors beyond their control, such as oil cartels or labor contracts. Only when Paul Volcker became Federal Reserve chairman in 1979 did the Fed take responsibility for taming inflation.

Among Jones’ early hires here was Jerry Jordan, an economist who eventually became president of the Cleveland Fed and was another strong voice for monetarism.

Jones’ and Francis’ successors have largely taken the same hawkish stance toward inflation. Christopher Waller, a former ӣ����Ƶ research director who’s now on the Fed’s board of governors, has talked about tariffs’ effect on inflation, while Musalem has said he wants to see inflation go lower before cutting interest rates.

While making the case for monetarist policies, Jones thought ordinary Americans needed better information about the economy. He launched a series of weekly and monthly pamphlets, mailed free to anyone who asked, with the latest money supply, inflation and other data.

“Homer very much wanted to see data, see empirical evidence,” Wheelock said. “He thought if we were collecting all the data, we should make it widely available.”

The pamphlets would morph into FRED, an online database that launched in 1991. It counted 18 million users and 85 million page views last year, and publications around the world often credit the ӣ����Ƶ Fed when they publish graphs of gross domestic product, job growth or inflation rates.

The website is so popular that the Economy Museum’s shop stocks FRED hoodies and other merchandise. One superfan, employees recall, flew a private plane to ӣ����Ƶ just to buy some FRED swag.

The ӣ����Ƶ Fed’s online outreach isn’t limited to data nerds. It also creates economics and personal finance lessons that are used by teachers nationwide, from preschool through college.

Early visitors were awed by the ӣ����Ƶ Fed’s security features and modern technology. A Globe-Democrat reporter toured in 1927 and marveled at the machinery used for tabulating, endorsing checks and opening envelopes. The writer also noted that the Fed had its own bakery and bowling alley.

Those are gone, but the building still has its marvels, including a 28-pound gold bar that Economy Museum visitors can lift. Think of it as a metaphor for the hefty role the ӣ����Ƶ Fed still plays in the region’s, and nation’s, economy.

David Nicklaus is a retired Post-Dispatch columnist who continues to follow the ӣ����Ƶ business scene. Contact him at dnickstl@gmail.com