Memoirs of a Minyan: Brokedown Palace
Editor's Note: “Memoirs of a Minyan” is a first-person account that follows Minyanville founder Todd Harrison as he weaves his way through Wall Street and beyond. This e-Book will publish each Wednesday over 18 weeks. Click here to read previous Memoirs chapters.
Chapter 12: Brokedown Palace
It was a beautiful, crisp September morning as I looked up from my Wall Street Journal to watch the sunrise over the East River. It was a peaceful moment, a pause to reflect on the beauty of the landscape and my place in life.
That was the first thing I remember about 9/11, how sharp the horizon was as day broke on lower Manhattan.
Our hedge fund was bearish on the macro landscape but positioned for a counter-trend upside trade heading into that fateful day. As we settled into our turrets and downed our second cup of coffee, Nokia (NOK) pre-announced a negative quarter and the stock shot 5% higher.
It was a classic sign that the market was washed out, proof positive that traders were caught short and scrambling to cover. We pressed our bet, furiously buying SPY and QQQ, twisting the knife into the sides of the bears that were short and overstayed their welcome.
The first boom shook our office walls. I scanned my trading desk and asked, “What the heck was that?”
Jeff’s brother yelled “The World Trade Center’s on fire!” as we turned to see flames raging and black smoke billowing into the clear blue sky.
At 40 Fulton Street, we were a few short blocks away and, on the 24th floor, had a bird’s eye view. The mainstream media had yet to pick up the story, adding to the confusion we felt as we watched it unfold in real-time.
I turned to write on TheStreet.com (TSCM), posting commentary at 8:47 am. “A bomb has exploded in the WTC. May God have mercy on those innocent souls.”
The S&P and NASDAQ futures traded wildly in ten, twenty handle clips; we made some sales but when it was reported that a small commuter plane had crashed, we scooped our inventory back and then some. 
All of this occurred in a matter of minutes, if that.
I’ve since learned that the reason we couldn’t look away from the towers was that our minds had no way to process the information.
That, no matter how hard we tried to mentally digest what we saw, there was no place to “file” images of human beings holding hands and jumping from atop the World Trade Center.
It’s an image I can’t shake to this day, bodies falling through a maze of confetti; it’s a sight that I wish to God I never saw.
We huddled by our window with our mouths gaped open as somebody repeated “Oh my God!” over and over again. The second plane circled behind the tower and entered it from behind. In slow motion, the KA-BOOM again shook our foundation as the fireball exploded directly towards us.
I thought to myself “this is how I’m going to die” as we gathered our staff and ushered the office towards the stairwell.
I stopped by my turret, quickly wrote, “I’m evacuating our building...” and sent it to my editors, unsure if they would ever receive it.
The Duck and Cover
Our staff left the building and ran towards the South Street Seaport. I remember thinking that worst case, we could dive in the East River and take our chances there.
We overheard someone say that the Pentagon was attacked. The Pentagon? Weren’t missiles supposed to shoot down anything that threatened that air space?
The Verizon switching center was damaged and we had no cell phones or Blackberries, no voice of reason to assuage our fears. We were, for all intents and purposes, cut off from the world.
I thought of friends who worked in the towers and resisted an urge to run to ground zero to find them; I was riddled with anxiety but tried to put on a brave face to calm my shaken staff.
The crumbling began with a whisper and grew to a growl as the first tower imploded.
We were on an island unto ourselves in terms of location and communication and naturally assumed another wave of attacks had begun. Everyone scrambled as hysteria broke out, scattering our personnel among thousands of confused people as the wave of white smoke approached.
I’m not sure how Jeff and I found each other but we somehow connected and ran along the river towards the FDR. I eyed the water to our right as a precaution; it was an option that I wanted to keep open as we broke into a sprint.
Jeff offered the cab driver $500 to take him out of the city while I tried to calm a woman in the back seat who was on the verge of hyperventilating. Between weeps, she told me her boyfriend worked in an office that was high up in the towers. As I looked out the rear-view window and saw one of the towers already gone, I was at a loss for words.
Todd Harrison is the founder and Chief Executive Officer of Minyanville. Prior to his current role, Mr. Harrison was President and head trader at a $400 million dollar New York-based hedge fund. Todd welcomes your comments and/or feedback at todd@minyanville.com.
The information on this website solely reflects the analysis of or opinion about the performance of securities and financial markets by the writers whose articles appear on the site. The views expressed by the writers are not necessarily the views of Minyanville Media, Inc. or members of its management. Nothing contained on the website is intended to constitute a recommendation or advice addressed to an individual investor or category of investors to purchase, sell or hold any security, or to take any action with respect to the prospective movement of the securities markets or to solicit the purchase or sale of any security. Any investment decisions must be made by the reader either individually or in consultation with his or her investment professional. Minyanville writers and staff may trade or hold positions in securities that are discussed in articles appearing on the website. Writers of articles are required to disclose whether they have a position in any stock or fund discussed in an article, but are not permitted to disclose the size or direction of the position. Nothing on this website is intended to solicit business of any kind for a writer's business or fund. Minyanville management and staff as well as contributing writers will not respond to emails or other communications requesting investment advice.
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Tears come to my eyes every time I read "Brokedown Palace"--IMO, the best work you have ever done. You capture the emotion of that day in such a clear and concise manner--very intense and moving.
Obviously a watershed event in both your personal and professional life...Thanks, as always, for sharing!
Minyan Adam Weinstein
Orlando, FL
Priorities definitely changed that day.
These days, I live my life and go about my business and rarely think of what I saw and smelled and felt that day, or the endless days that followed. Once in a while, I come across something unexpected, like this article, which makes it almost like I am walking towards that Krispy Kreme again wondering about how long the line will be. When that happens, I can't remember where I am, what year it is. I start to feel like I will throw up.
Since that day, I've done well, lived a good life, made a family, traveled the world. I've lived in Paris, Puerto Rico. I've sipped coffee in Rome, rode horses in Provence. I'm happy, and that makes me think I have gotten over September 11th. Then I stumble into something I wasn't expecting, like this article. And I am back there again, and it feels like it is all happening again. I feel my heart rate picking up and like I am not getting enough air. I haven't "gotten over" anything. I've just gotten really adept at putting it into a box, locking it, and shoving it into a dark corner.
I sense Todd has been able to grapple with and make sense of these memories better than I have, or at least in a very different way. I'm happy I read this article, and will read whatever comes next. I always wonder if I need another way, and this article - and I suspect the ones that might follow - are about another way.
Thanks, Todd. - Alex Trias
If it's any consolation, it's not as 'easy' as it appears. I know many people--those who were there--that buried their emotions and went on with their life. The experience didn't quietly fade away, it laid dormant, ticking like a time bomb. I myself delved into a deep depression, unbeknownst at the time but obvious with the benefit of hindsight. As I wrote, we all did what we could; we all did what we had to.
The energy that 'transformed' was the genesis of Minyanville. It saved my life. It was a parallel universe devoid of the pain in the real world, a metaphorical existence without acrimony; a community committed to doing business the right way.
I wish to God I didn't see what I saw or feel what I felt but I did and nothing will ever change that. That is why the 'Ville and the Ruby Peck Foundation are my passion and purpose--it's more than a media company, it's the "other side" of 9/11.
The reaction to news, as we often say, is more important to the news itself. For me, going forward, obstacles are rubber bullets. Nothing--and I mean nothing--will ever overwhelm me for I now know my capacity to absorb pain and the resolve that resides within my soul and spirit.
In that way, I'm blessed, and I hope to one day look back on September 11th with a knowing wisdom. I would be lying if I said that I, too, don't have dark places, that I don't flinch when I hear loud sounds, that I don't cringe when I see an airplane in the distance duck behind a building while standing in the streets of New York.
But that's OK--if I've learned anything over the last eight years, it's the time is precious and the greatest wisdom is bred as a function of pain. In many ways, the ability to spend my days in Minyanville is an ongoing catharsis. For if there wasn't 9/11, there most likely would never have been a Minyanville.
Thank you all--may peace be with you.
Home, sound asleep when the phone rang. Mom said, "turn on your TV." What does this mean, Ted? I told her, " I had no idea." Told her, I loved her and would find out what I could on base, don't worry, and stay home till you hear from me.
Tried to drive 2 miles to base, but was shocked to see gridlock trying to get on base. I had to turnaround and trade the car in for my bike. I was searched at the gate (airport style), and once inside, noticed the atmosphere both physically and mentally had changed forever.
I'll bet there isn't a reader onboard that can't tell you exactly what they did and felt that day. It was a cold hard slap in the face, unlike any since Pearl Harbor.
Thanks for sharing.
Ted
Worked full time, temp, up top of a tower for Port Auth Planning & Development. Rem building swaying in high winds, rush of elevators, see clear skies above clouds while streets wet with rain below. Nice people there who shared usual office parties with a mere office temp (artist).
Fun to see the atmosphere of the little town WTC offered.
Hung out in WFC with its great exhibits, flower shows, tennis & racket ball shows, yummy food places, weddings too.
Whole area had a great arc of life.
Mixed with that are the memories of seeing military vehicles all over town
like during the old riot days.
Times Square vacant. Hearing the first plane coming in loud & low that am from
my far west side Hell's Kitchen apt as
prepared to trade that day feeling how
sweet & clear the day was.
Thought, da@@rn, big planes don't go N to S. Little planes aren't this noisy. Some thing going down and looking to ditch into the harbor before hitting land.
Hearing "small plane" from CNBC. Views from the Jersey City office area where I had worked for PwC temp. Great views at night of WTC. Kept night photos. Rem mentioning how towers were supposed to stand up to even the impact of a jet.
And they did, initially, as designed.
Flashed on how the locals in JC resented
the monied types in "West Wall Street".
Not surprised by reports of people there cheering from rooftops as towers
began to destruct and news of who did it came in. Big win for 'downtrodden'.
Thought of the Manhattan cabby from Lebanon in August who had mentioned "a war is coming" as we crossed town. And I replied that I hoped that was not so. He was warning me after we'd had a friendly conversation about Leb, life, and family.
Seeing the floods of people walking uptown that day. I too holed up at a
friend's condo by Citi HQ on Lex & 54 wondering if that might be a target.
Hell everything looked like a target.
WorldWide Plaza, Liberty, Empire. There was no air cover so all fair game. Still is. Hard to imagine they
have been able to follow up. Maybe just reloading.
Guess in time this will fade into the same gray bliss of the Holocaust that never really happened either.
But won't be able to rationalize away the memory of a friend covered in the tower's dust who made it to 54th Street
before getting over to Jersey home on the midtown ferry.
And that artist's sculpture of falling bodies being pulled from public view at Rock Plaza. No Guernica for us.
But then the Cole didn't impact the art world either.
Maybe in 9/2011 there will be more memories, or attacks?
Well, back to the great game. Hope others have handled the event ok.
Being a life long New Yorker just had to put this out. My father's name is on
the WWII Battle of North Atlantic memorial in Battery Park overlooking the
Statue of Liberty. Eagle on top of it is still there. So maybe if a techno power house of its day like Germany couldn't take down the US like it did Europe, then chances are the camel farmers won't do it either. Cross fingers.
hmm word dam#$n (the 4 letter one) is not allowed per submit. Nor is DA@@RN How sad is that!? ^$%#&$&%8
Just could not pass this one by without sounding a cautionary note - just when you begin to believe that you have passed all of the tests of your spirit's resilience, is when you are most likely to experience an even deeper layer of testing than you ever knew or thought possible. But...it's all good.
Toddo
Went to dinner, and while just folking my food lost in disbelief, when a great noice came from the bar next door, Rushed there thinking the worst, it was just Geece had scored a goal in some football match somewhere. Americans all over the world knew that this was life changing, and country changing, but for others in this world it was just a sidebar to a football match
I repeated that aloud.
The other members of the IT department I worked in said, "No, it was a plane." My first thought was the small plane that hit the Empire State Building during or shortly after WWII and I wondered how that could happen again.
Very shortly after, the news of the 2nd plane broke in the department. I said "That's no accident!" We all said things everyone was saying that realized what was going on like Oh S*". Video was shortly available on CNN.
I'm not sure when it was exactly, but I read a post by Tony Dwyer explaining that one of the first things he did when logging into work was fire off a 'How ya doing Bud" IM to Bil Meehan who worked at Cantor-Fitzgerald, on the 102?110? floor of the WTC and got no response. I now think of Mr Meehan anytime I think of 9-11, along with many others, such as flight attendants, passengers, all the rest. But Bill's name is always at the top because I read everything he wrote and because of Tony's comment and because I think he was among the first to be taken by the madmen.
The clarity of that moment - the indescribable evil of that moment - will never leave me. I can't imagine actually having been there and I've been through some seriously tough times...
Turning it into Minyanville is the best of all possible outcomes that I can imagine.
for my own part, regarding your own part that day, i am humbled, and thank you....
Was great to find you and MV again after you left RM and still reading your fabulous articles after all this time, sigh.
I still remember BM he was one hell of a writer at RM too, rip.
