Many suffered and continue to suffer, the author knows this. He offers the following as his own imperfect recollection of a fragmented memory. - OT Editor
originally posted on OpportunisticTrader.com
-morning risk meetings -“a plane crashed into the wtc..” - seeing it from window.. dismissing it as a Cessna.. - checking market reaction, noting we had positive gamma to hedge in oil, gold and sugar mkt spikes, negative in oil products and NG. - watching replay on tv as second plane hits outside window. - telling all to leave. -cell phones down - stepping outside and freezing in disbelief. - watching scraps of metal fall and twist as they plummeted. - the staircase - realizing not all were metal. - not comprehending what was seen, but feeling it. - feeling energized, knowing what to do. - smell of gas line leaks - Brooklyn bridge vibrating as people walked across it - fiancé trapped in subway thinking she was dead - pulling people out of offices in denial - Chi - Mott - all of Carr futures team - smell of burnt concrete
-mind running through risks of staying vs leaving the island - trying to rent a boat to get team off the island - no one would. consider stealing one - deciding to split up and get in multiple pay phone lines to make calls. - wondering if whole eastern coast was under attack - ATM lines.. - no one panicked. proudest have ever been of them - brown cloud in air...wondering if anthrax was on plane. Not saying it. - listening to reports from an abandoned car radio in middle of west side highway as tower collapsed. - telling all to split up and then meet at single place later for a head count check. - wanting to go back, staying with team. - watching the accordion like collapse in disbelief. - waiting for smoke to clear - seeing nothing. - Mott - Chi - sept 12 in DC with fiancé aggregating 13 portfolios in Asia/ Europe, just to keep mind off what was witnessed and preserve livelihoods. - No statements.. pen and paper and inventories... in the zone - remembering how helpful the UK guys were.. suspending their OTC sugar and oil rules for us. - fielding calls from other traders and FCMs looking for exit liquidity of positions in gold. - doing curb trades and agreeing to settle up cash later in good faith to get people flat. - sept 13th - inexplicably collapsing just hours after last trades done. - paralyzed for 8 hours in a bathroom with no direct reason- body convulsing -visceral reaction to an event the mind can’t make sense of. - sept 14th unapproachable by fiancé seeking a target for rage.. finding no one worthy. Silent. - sept 15th still unable to understand. Turn to music. -Roy Harper’s “black cloud of Islam” -listen to it for 3 hours straight rocking back and forth.
-there is no justification for the action. and to think revenge will fix it is insane.
-want revenge... msm saying thing like "did we bring this on ourselves?" why not ask the columbine kids if they deserved it? fuck you - understanding that open markets and facilitating others is the only way to contribute right now.
Next trading day and beyond: - wanting to do more. Guilt grows. Not doing enough. -wanting to take a full page ad in nyt to offer staffing support to cantor Fitzgerald after seeing the owner crying on air. -Being advised it was a “silly idea” by team - onboard 4 high risk traders post event who needed backing. - move FCMs to keep a trader afloat - making money from event, then losing it all and multiples more in some self destructive guilt driven spiral over the next year. - it’s Chris and 1999 all over again. - trading 5 products, testing software, giving 70-30 deals- complete suicidal arrogance. - borrowing, bailing out, then borrowing again from jr. partners to stay afloat. - betrayed myself - I deserve it. I don’t. - never had heart to ask traders for “good faith settle ups”. -Diagnosed with complex ptsd. -Laugh it off... I survived.
- 9/11 legacy is the scrolling news ticker on cable news that makes me sick. reminds me of help not given.
-2003-2008- persevere, secure family future. feel hollow. something wrong.
-betrayed again: time heals all wounds, but scars remain and demand vigilance.
- stopping. peripheral vision lost, flashing lights, nausea. Wasn’t supposed to be like this today. Wasn’t for years.
-Mott- 6 inches of space between us for years that were unfillable in character, self-awareness and humor. A guy who trusted you first. A guy you were honored to be asked in that Cuban Castilian upper class accent “Hey- are you fading me?” And you could answer without him punishing you. -Dennis- metals mentor- implacable under pressure, gentleman and purveyor of wisdom. rivers run deep
Dedicated to the people who continue to relive the senselessness of the tragedy that befell them that day.
Read more by Soren K.Group