The Stock Market, Failure, and Forgiveness

The Stock Market, Failure, and Forgiveness

New York Stock Exchange Building close to where I ran into Donna's father

It was 1969 and I was back in New York after dropping out of school in Valparaiso and spending some time in Toronto looking into emigrating to Canada to avoid the draft. I had a job lined up there but I needed money to get across the border and attain legal status. I decided to get a job in New York. I found one with a company on the New York Stock Exchange. I was going to have to raise a minimum of five hundred dollars. I was hired by Asiel and Co, a stock and bond house with a seat on the NY Stock Market floor. They did more bonds than stocks. After a couple of weeks being a kind of gofer, I was promoted to a position titled “Buy-in Man” when the previous “Buy-in-Man” left for a job with another company. This position required me to match any bonds our clients or other companies called for (buy/sell) with bonds other NYC Stock Market companies owed Asiel. I had to notify that company before 3PM that we wanted to collect the bonds they owed us. The goal was to not have to actually produce the bonds but rather find someone else to produce them for us. Of course my request to the others would go to their Buy-in-Man who would do the same thing for his company. See these companies didn't seem to have these bonds themselves, just a paper trail of where they were. Sometimes I would get the same request turned right back to me and I'd have to do it again. It was a bit like musical chairs making sure all the requests received that day were covered by bonds owed to us from other houses/companies by a 3:00 deadline. The last hour was always particularly hectic. If we did not find the bonds somewhere we would have to buy them at the current value so we could fill the client's order. If we ended up having to buy bonds due to not being able to cover all of the buy/sell orders I needed to tell our guy down on the floor of the exchange to buy the bonds to cover us. Having to buy was considered a bad day.

I worked in an area called “The Cage”. It was an area that was walled off. Any non-walled areas had bars a little like a prison and the door in was kept locked from both sides. I worked 8:30 to 5. If you didn't go out for lunch the company would buy you lunch from a Schrafft's restaurant that would deliver the food to your work location. Most of the time I ate at my desk. If you worked past 6 they would also give you money for dinner. I would frequently work late to get organized and a jump start on the next day.

I was living on the Island and was commuting in on the Long Island Rail Road either into Penn Station or more often into Brooklyn because it was generally a little faster. Donna was up in Westchester County at her parents' house. They lived in the town of Hastings on the Hudson. So a couple of times a week I would work till about 6:30 and then catch the train up to Hastings out of Grand Central Station. Occasionally I would get back to Grand Central pretty late and rather than try to go back out to Long Island, I would just spend the night at the station, sleeping on one of the benches.

Sitting on the stoop at my parent's house

Donna's father did not like me and at first I was not even allowed on the property so I had to meet her some place in town. One time he locked her in her room so she would not be able to go out and meet me. She showed up a little late, but she met me after escaping through her bedroom window on the second floor. Eventually he gave in and tolerated me coming to the house. Conversations with Donna's father were strained to say the least and could be a bit contentious. I would sometimes work a Saturday morning. On one of those occasions I was walking down Wall Street from the subway station, heading to my office building when I saw Donna's father walking toward me. It was early in the morning and the Wall Street area was empty. There was no one between me and him so there was no way either of us could act like we didn't see each other. Of course, I was not expecting to see him nor he I. It took us both by surprise. I said hello and stopped. We exchanged a few sentences probably about what we were doing down there so early in the morning. It turned out to be the friendliest conversation we would ever have. Shortly after Donna and I were married we visited her parents and I remember a conversation where he was being critical of something or other and I looked at him and told him that I deeply loved his daughter and would be good to her. He looked at me and just said I know and walked away. That was the second most friendly conversation we ever had.

At home things were difficult. Looking back I now realize how much stress I put my parents under and how this was even having an effect on their relationship as my mother would at times try to be supportive of my side. My parents were moderate liberals. They were against the war and this put them on the opposite side of most of their friends. It was a time, not unlike today, where there was a great division in the country. Most of my parents friends were were on the Right and were telling them how wrong they were about their views and now I was telling them how wrong they were from the other side. They couldn't win. I was in my own world focusing on trying to get things together to emigrate and trying to come to terms about what that would mean for me, not just leaving my country for a new one, but potentially leaving my family as well. It seemed that my father and I would hash the whole thing out over and over on the evenings I was home. To my father's credit he was very open to hearing my thoughts and really tried to talk thoughtfully and calmly with me about the situation. Regardless, the tensions remained high. In fact, when my 20^th birthday came around we all just ignored it. For some of this time I moved in with my grandparents to ease the tension, plus it was more convenient since my grandparents lived closer to the city, which cut down on my commute time.

At the stock market, working as a “Buy-in-Man” only twice did I fail to cover every request that came my way. One of the times was at my boss's direction. I had gotten a very late order to cover a sizable number of bonds, thousands of bonds. I quickly found that Solomon Brothers owed us those bonds and I passed the order to them just barely under the wire. Unbeknownst to me, they were the biggest baddest bond house on the market and you just did not do that to them. I was called in by my boss and read the riot act. I was told we never, ever, stick it to Solomon Brothers by sending them a late buy-in order. We would be buying the bonds potentially cost us big dollars. Luckily the bonds were down a little at the end of the day so we actually came out a bit ahead, but that was not the norm. To send me a message, Solomon Bros sent me a large number of requests everyday, throughout the day for an entire week. They sent me as many or more requests each day than I would regularly get from all the other stock market companies combined. This more than doubled my work. It was a week of hell but I managed to cover them all. The following Monday Solomon called me directly. They told me that I impressed them and offered me a job with a big raise. This would have really helped me earn enough to go to Canada. I had to turn them down. As it turned out they were not the only ones impressed with me. Our U.S. Government was as well. The Friday before I had received a notice to report to Fort Hamilton for my pre-induction physical. They were offering me a two year hitch in Army or Marines (their choice) or a four year hitch in the Navy or Air Force (my choice). Well, offering may not quite be the right work. It came with new outfits, lot's of travel, a chance of adventure and low pay. I was about to be drafted.

It was make or break time. It was either head out for Canada with what I had or give in and join the service. I ended up not emigrating and going into the service. My failure to emigrate to Canada and enter into military service is the most unpatriotic thing I have ever done because I believed I was doing the wrong thing. I did not serve the country to the best of my ability. I did not stay true to myself. By serving I was condoning, supporting and participating in what I believed to be an immoral war. Every once in a while someone will thank me for my service. I appreciate the thought knowing they mean well but deep down I know the truth is I did my country and myself a disservice. This is something I am not proud of and have had difficulty accepting in myself. This decision sticks out as the hardest choice I ever had to make and I failed. I have had to live with that and it has been a struggled to forgive myself and I am not sure I have managed to do that even now.   

This post follows Meet the Parents and is followed by Can't Hear You When You Scream.