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“It’s a far-gone lullaby sung many years ago; mama, mama, many worlds I’ve come since I first left home “Grateful Dead
It was a beautiful, crisp September morning as I looked up from my WSJ to watch the sunrise over the East River. It was a mindful moment, a pause to reflect on the beauty of the world and my place in life.
That was the first thing I remember about 9/11: how sharp the horizon was as dawn illuminated lower Manhattan.
I had hundreds of trading positions and millions of dollars in risk waiting downtown, but none of that mattered as my driver navigated the FDR and I soaked in the scene.
I was the president of a $400 million hedge fund and as bearish as we were on the macro landscape, we were positioned very long heading into that fateful day.
As I settled into my turret and downed my second cup of joe, Nokia pre-announced a negative quarter and the stock shot 5% higher.
That was our signal that the market was washed out, proof positive that traders were caught short and scrambling to cover. We pressed our bet, buying SPY and QQQ hand over fist, twisting the knife into the bears that had overstayed their welcome.
The first boom shook our office walls, causing everyone to stop what they were doing.
“What the hell was that?” One of the analysts 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 blocks away from the towers and on the 24th floor, we had a bird’s eye view. The mainstream media had yet to …
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Author: Todd Harrison / High Times
