A Colossal Failure Of Common Sense Part 18

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The collapse of the derivatives had savaged financial inst.i.tutions and brokerage houses alike. The crash of the stock market wiped billions of dollars off the value of U.S. corporations. Bankruptcies were announced almost hourly. Layoffs were nationwide.

Terence Tucker told me his commute from New Jersey in the good days used to take him an hour and a half. At the start of 2009, it took only forty minutes in light traffic to Wall Street.

Because of the location of my apartment, I occasionally walk past 745 Seventh. And I always stop and stare up at the floors where I'd found, I thought, the holy grail. Up there, behind the huge gla.s.s windows, we'd all fought it out, us against the world: Larry laughing, Grossy Joe, Terence, Sch.e.l.l, Christine, Jane, Pete, Rich, As.h.i.+sh, Mike, Alex, and Bart. Such days they were, with ma.s.sive risks, tight camaraderie, and the endless joy of being right. And now we are all scattered, separate pieces, strangers, I suppose, in strange different places. It will always make me profoundly sad.

Even now I cannot quite understand what went wrong. How could it have gone wrong? As a team, we must have been judged world-beaters. I still stare up at those windows, and I am always left with the feeling that we all tried so hard, and yet some strange forces ruined everything.

It changed me. It stripped away all the careless glances at stock charts I have lived with all my life. The ramifications of those charts have a different meaning now. Where once I stared at the zigzagging lines, and just thought, Up, down, win, lose, profit, crash, problem, solution, long, short, buy, sell Up, down, win, lose, profit, crash, problem, solution, long, short, buy, sell, now I see mostly people. Because every movement, up or down, has a meaning. I see it because I've been there. Every fraction of every inch of those financial graphs represents hope or fear, confidence or dread, triumph or ruin, celebration or sorrow. There's nothing quite like total calamity to focus the mind.



I find myself thinking of the families of the people I knew so well. The millions of dollars s.n.a.t.c.hed from them undeservedly. I know what it meant to them, how lives were devastated, life savings obliterated.

Other people's anguish has always affected me. And I understand the psychological scars left on men and women whose careers were wrecked at Lehman. I have seen their tears, and I've heard their cries. G.o.d knows, there were people who committed suicide, threw themselves in front of trains, in this financial Armageddon.

Again I look up at those windows, and I know the ghosts of my old team will never leave there. Nothing could ever be that good again. Wall Street will never be the same. Lehman brought it down, as it brought down half the world. And, I say again, it never should have happened.

Acknowledgments

It was James Robinson who led me to this book. In the first place, he felt I had an untold story that I was bursting to unleash on the world. Second, his father is the renowned New York Times New York Times number one bestselling author Patrick Robinson, the man who wrote number one bestselling author Patrick Robinson, the man who wrote Lone Survivor Lone Survivor for the heroic U.S. Navy SEAL Marcus Luttrell. for the heroic U.S. Navy SEAL Marcus Luttrell.I never thought he would even consider it-not the vast jumble of thoughts cascading unchecked and undisciplined through my mind. But James talked him into it, and all through the winter of 200809 I commuted between New York and the Robinson family home in Ireland.James held the project together, handling the mountainous volumes of research, preparing material for his father, who was obliged to spend all day on the writing, every day. Including Christmas.I thank James for his unflagging support, both as my co-researcher and "interpreter" for his father. But above all I thank him as my friend.Patrick Robinson has written many bestselling techno-thriller novels and, including this, has five times ghosted for other people. All of the other four made it to number one on a bestseller list. Believe me, I now understand why. I could never have done it without him, and he has my sincere thanks for everything.I thank also Patrick's droll and urbane London literary agent, Andrew Nurnberg, who seized upon this book within five minutes of hearing we planned to write it. He never doubted its merit, never once saw it as anything but a potentially huge success. He instantly appointed a New York agent to share the responsibility, Larry Kirshbaum, who took us to one of the greatest publis.h.i.+ng houses in the world. And I thank them both.And equally I thank our editor, John Mahaney of Crown Publishers, who read it once and made up his mind immediately to acquire the work, no matter the opposition. His wise and thoughtful preparation of the ma.n.u.script evokes my complete admiration. And my thanks to Rik Sen, a doctoral student at New York University's Stern School of Business, for his hard work and dedication in reviewing and checking financial data.Most important, I would like to thank my beloved Anabela, who was there for me every step of the way. Her friends.h.i.+p, patience, dedication, and positive reinforcement were crucial in my completing this book. Anabela, I'll always remember-and be forever grateful for-the way you helped me through this unique experience.As with any book as complex and detailed as this, there are more people to thank than I could possibly record, particularly as most of them would wish to remain anonymous, well clear of the firing line. But they know who they are, my colleagues from all over Lehman's countless corporate departments. Patrick and I thank them for the endless time they spent, filling me in on those events I did not see firsthand, making certain that this story, whatever else, is as accurate as any Wall Street thriller could ever be.L. McD.

A Colossal Failure Of Common Sense Part 18

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