Sometimes I feel that I’m beginning to come apart from all that’s occurred, like something that’s been glued, then starts to crack after it dries out. I’m sure we all do.
A few days before that fateful Tuesday, a friend observed that we don’t use the word “authentic” much anymore. But our colleagues were indeed authentic people–true characters who will endure in our memories as vibrant individuals. It will be them, not the murderous moment, that we remember.
There was a choreography to our trading floor. If I close my eyes, I can still see it. There they are on the phone, standing up and yelling out across the room. They created a pace with a singular focus. There was business to be done. Every transaction was seamless. Nothing ever seemed to need repeating.
I will always remember Sept. 10, when Chuck Zion–a sales trader whose confidence it took me a year to win over–asked if I could research something for a customer. Handing him the folder containing the report, he rose from his chair and shook my hand. He had thanked me many times before, but that day he got up. I don’t know why. But people noticed. And I noticed that they noticed. Chuck, you were the best I’ve ever seen or will see. You made my day that Monday.
Vinnie Slavin. Man, I’ll miss you. Every Monday morning it was, “I got mine, how’d you make out?” Here’s Vinnie on the hoot-and-holler (intercom): “Attenzione, attenzione,” updating the status of a coming IPO. Vinnie and I skied the slopes and back country of Vermont last fall on new Atomic skis. Vinnie, I did so love that Viagra clock on top of your monitor.
Steve Larrabee of our L.A. office, we love you brother. You lost a son, Chris, who was hard at work that morning on the 104th floor. Try to remember, hard as it is, that his happiness will protect you now and in all the other days to come. Your pain seems the hardest to try to comprehend. Others who survive are in the same circle of pain. You’re outside of the circle–but please, lean on us.
Timmy Grazioso. Class. He was the whole show. Timmy so easily kept everything humming. All he ever needed to know seemed to be written on a little sheet of paper carefully folded and placed in his left breast pocket (over the heart). That little slip had everything relevant to the important stocks. Tim, I can hear you. “Everybody out!” It just had to be you.
Billy Tieste. One of the most generous people I’ve ever known. Billy looked like Buddha sometimes, the Buddha of Happiness.
Val Silver-Ellis. We spoke every morning on your cell phone as you walked to the office, discussing overnight developments in the markets. Val, you never let me in on what practical joke you were planning next.
Angel “Chique” Pabon. Ever optimistic, you always had an encouraging word. A gentleman, an angel with a Havana cigar. This was the city where you saw your dreams fill up and overflow.
Calvin Gooding. Man could he dance. Calvin, a kid from Brooklyn, who wound up being held in the highest regard by everyone in the hood. He never had a bad word to say about anyone. Cal, you were the most positive thinker I’ve ever known.
Joey Vilardo. I’ve just got to say it: What a load of rubbish! There wasn’t one political comment that came out of your mouth that anyone agreed with. How a liberal Democrat like me could get along with you is a testament to how well you respected the views of others.
Elvin Romero. Elvin, give me some skin. You can relax now, my friend. Your jokes were terrible, but we always laughed at them anyway. You dreamed over the years of a house for your family. The pool you built this summer. You opened it the weekend before that Tuesday. With joy you showed us the picture of you in the water with your daughter in your arms.
In quiet moments, I hear the howl of the children. At those times, it’s hardest to go on.
There’s little joy right now. But there is still camaraderie. We have been given the most difficult task–to persevere in the face of adversity. We know that in all this darkness and evil, the only way to get through is to continue looking straight ahead.
My colleagues and I will rebuild. That shared experience that will bring pleasure, as it should, in time. A new choreography will emerge.
