Memories Of Two Giants Struck Down Part 3

Somewhere in 1985, I left the wonderful world of Wall Street. This was for two reasons: first, I didn't feel comfortable working in corporate America anymore. I needed to take some time off, do a little traveling and soul searching, and try and reconnect with myself and re-think my life. Second was the fact that I had developed a huge cocaine problem, had done a thirty-something day stay in a rehab, and being around Wall Street was not good for me.

So, off I went on my merry way across the country by train for a few weeks. I stayed for a time with my Uncle, who is a Roman Catholic Priest, at at the time was running a Parish/School in Mississippi that was almost all African-American. I helped to rebuild the school's roof and painted the Nun's residence, and just basically helped my Uncle out while his assistant was on vacation. I also helped to dig new graves in newly consecrated ground for African-Americans who were being disinterred from their cemetary because there was no room left at the White cemetary, and they needed the space. Even in death, the South had its own Jim Crowe laws.

At this juncture, I need to tell you that this took place in Canton, Mississippi...which has a famous son named John Grisham, the author. I don't know Mr Grisham, nor do I know his philosophy on life, all I can tell you is that Canton was the most prejudiced place I have ever been in. The Whites hated me because I was working with the African-Americans (and CATHOLIC ones at that!); and the African-Americans (literally "from the other side of the tracks") hated me because I was working with working to middle-class Catholic African Americans. I was almost run down by a car, and was threatened at gunpoint...all because I tried to do some good in this world.

By the time I left there, while spiritually fulfilled, I was thoroughly convinced that General Sherman was right.

I returned to New York, in need of a job...and in the next few years I held a succession of them all locally on Staten Island. I did Sales for a family friend's Office Cleaning business; worked as an Insurance Salesman and Broker, and sold Cable Television. In February of 1988, I was hired by the old Chemical Bank as a Sales Representative selling bank products. I excelled at that, so I got promoted and was relocated to Lower Manhattan in 1991; it was also around this time I started to date my future wife. It was also around this time that I met a lot of great people in the other branches in my area. We were all in our late 20's-early 30's; we worked hard, and played even harder. Every Friday night without fail, "The Crew" (as we called ourselves) would meet at a few of our local drinking establishments (which also happened to be customers of our various Branches) and get absolutely plastered. The fact that the bars were also our customers helped, as we got many a free round (or ten) and food.

Life was good. My future wife (who was and is a Registered Nurse) was also part of The Crew. We had gotten engaged, and rented an apartment with a terrace on the ocean in Long Branch, NJ. She had gotten a job at a hospital two blocks from the apartment, and the train to NYC was right across the street from that. Perfect! One goal accomplished.

One of the other goals I had set for myself though: I wanted to be a Sales Manager, and I wanted to be the Sales Manager of the World Trade Center Branch. It was a prime spot which was (unfortunately) occupied by a woman who had been a fixture there since the Branch opened in 1975. It was also a promotion.

There was no way in hell I would get that job no matter how good my sales numbers were (I was one of the top sales people in the Bank); so I hoped that maybe I could get a lateral move at that branch and set myself up as a successor for the Sales Manager position. Well, two things happened...both of them within a few months of each other.

In July of 1992, Chemical Bank and Manufacturers Hanover Trust Company merged in what was then the biggest merger in US history, and started the ball rolling for other bank mergers in the next few years. This meant that some branches would be closed, but it also meant more opportunities for young eager sales people to get promoted. Oh yeah, we now had TWO Branches in the World Trade Center...and one of them happened to need a Sales Manager.

Well, things happen for a reason. The Sales Manager position at that Branch was filled by a banker at the other WTC Branch who dealt with high balance customers, same as I did; so that now left her position open. As it turned out, a friend of mine from The Crew (a wonderful girl named Marge) got that job, and as was our usual custom...anytime one of us moved on or got promoted, we threw a party for them.

We set her party for Februrary 26 1993, the Friday after her first day of work at the new job in the WTC.

It was also the day of the first bombing of the World Trade Center.

To be continued...