It all happened on October 24th, 1929. Chaos and anger filled Manhattan's streets. As I enjoyed my coffee on my sofa, next to the window facing Wall Street, I heard the news. The stock market dropped eleven percent, and people were going crazy. The banks shut down and stock brokers shut their doors. After nine years of pure joy, a strong economy, and the advancement of technology, this perfect life suddenly took a wild turn for the worst. Not for me at least since I never really invested in those unique stocks. I didn’t really believe in spending money on uncertainties, because I was afraid of a day like today. Today was the day that would inspire history.
My father died when he was forty two. At that time, I was twenty one, and had just begun my adult life when a check came for me in the mail. I received three million dollars from my father. I never deposited that check, and now, I couldn’t be happier, because I would have lost everything. “Trevor Smith, 3.2 million dollars”. Yeah, I’m Trevor and probably one of the most successful businessmen on Wall Street at that moment. I own the three white buildings across the street from my apartment. I bought them in my early twenties. Before my dad passed, I had already been making important money. I owned a law firm at the age of twenty, bought my second one at the age of twenty one, and at twenty three, I purchased my very first grocery store
As I peeked down from my living room window at the angry citizens begging for their money, I had a flash. I didn’t know much about stocks, but what if I invested in them? When all seemed at the worst, the prices were certainly low,and in the long run, when the market would return to its level, I could sell them to profit. Obviously, that was the perfect picture, the process was a lot more complicated.
I got dressed and put on a fancy grey suit. Sadly, it was ruined on my way out to visit my pal Bryer. Tomatoes, spit and food were thrown onto my suit as if I was one of the people who had led to their demise. Bryer was my best friend and a great businessman. He knew all about the stock market and the different ways to invest money. Thankfully, he agreed to show and help me accomplish what I wanted to do. We made a plan to maximize this situation. He told me to wait until the situation hit its lowest part. During the summer of 1932, I went big. The stock market had hit 41.22, the lowest it ever was. I invested in thousands of companies I thought would succeed in the long run such as metal factories, technological companies, and car factories. Meanwhile, I lowered the prices in my grocery store, so that the people purchased food for less money.
During the fifth year of the depression, in New York. I made twelve million dollars with combined profit from my grocery store, my rent fees and my investments. Money was growing and my dream was accomplished. Every time I got out of my apartment building, which I owned, I noticed people sleeping in shelters, on the sidewalks. They begged for food and money. At that point, I often brought meals, once a day, to keep myself from feeling guilty. I was the richest man in my environment, but why was I feeling horrible for my success? The people loved me, treated me as their hero, when allI had to do was bring them some disgusting leftovers to fill their stomach. It was great for business, because I became a public figure, the man who brought food once in a while.
It was during the winter of 1934 when it all happened. On this chilly January evening, as I was heading out to my weekly poker night with my friend Bryer, something happened to me that changed my life. I stepped foot outside, right on Wall Street, when I felt a liquid drip on me. It was snowing, therefore I didn’t quite pay attention to the factors, but my shiny white coat slowly dripped from dark red blood. I didn’t dare tilt my head, because I knew exactly what happened. That’s when I saw a perfectly good looking young man hung with a giant rope, holding from one of my 7th floor apartment balconies. My toes froze, as I stood there traumatized for at least thirty minutes. For the first time in my life, I felt guilt run through my entire body, haunting my heart and brain. Shivers of fear and pain ran through my veins, and my eyes were fixed on the hundreds of citizens questioning me, and gossiping about the situation. As the paramedics and the police officers questioned me about this man I did not know, who lived in my building, they came to conclusions that he had committed suicide because he had some horrible financing situations. He hadn’t paid rent in over four months, and I was too rich to even notice. My heart turned cold for the ones living in sickness and in poor conditions for years. What could I have done to prevent this? Why did I care so much? I didn’t even acknowledge the man, so why was it bothering? Myfeelings completely took over my body, for the first time in my life.
A couple days later, I searched for a way to give back to the community. It seemed that many people needed my help, and I decided to donate money to charities, especially those in desperate need, Bryer laughed to my face. I went on, and explained what happened earlier that week. He understood, and offered his help. Together, we donated two million dollars to the American Red Cross charity, helping with disasters. We also donated to the New Deal social welfare program founded by president Franklin D. Roosevelt, directed to solve the unemployment problem. After a couple months, every hundred dollars I made, I would divide it in half, and give the portion away to the ones who needed it the most. If my father would have been able to see my work, he would look at me with pride and joy, and be proud of my personal growth. Obviously, the money still mattered to me, and the charities in which I invested in were giving me great publicity, but it didn’t matter as much as the ones in need anymore. I can say it again, I am probably one of the most successful businessmen on Wall Street at this time of day.
My father died when he was forty two. At that time, I was twenty one, and had just begun my adult life when a check came for me in the mail. I received three million dollars from my father. I never deposited that check, and now, I couldn’t be happier, because I would have lost everything. “Trevor Smith, 3.2 million dollars”. Yeah, I’m Trevor and probably one of the most successful businessmen on Wall Street at that moment. I own the three white buildings across the street from my apartment. I bought them in my early twenties. Before my dad passed, I had already been making important money. I owned a law firm at the age of twenty, bought my second one at the age of twenty one, and at twenty three, I purchased my very first grocery store
As I peeked down from my living room window at the angry citizens begging for their money, I had a flash. I didn’t know much about stocks, but what if I invested in them? When all seemed at the worst, the prices were certainly low,and in the long run, when the market would return to its level, I could sell them to profit. Obviously, that was the perfect picture, the process was a lot more complicated.
I got dressed and put on a fancy grey suit. Sadly, it was ruined on my way out to visit my pal Bryer. Tomatoes, spit and food were thrown onto my suit as if I was one of the people who had led to their demise. Bryer was my best friend and a great businessman. He knew all about the stock market and the different ways to invest money. Thankfully, he agreed to show and help me accomplish what I wanted to do. We made a plan to maximize this situation. He told me to wait until the situation hit its lowest part. During the summer of 1932, I went big. The stock market had hit 41.22, the lowest it ever was. I invested in thousands of companies I thought would succeed in the long run such as metal factories, technological companies, and car factories. Meanwhile, I lowered the prices in my grocery store, so that the people purchased food for less money.
During the fifth year of the depression, in New York. I made twelve million dollars with combined profit from my grocery store, my rent fees and my investments. Money was growing and my dream was accomplished. Every time I got out of my apartment building, which I owned, I noticed people sleeping in shelters, on the sidewalks. They begged for food and money. At that point, I often brought meals, once a day, to keep myself from feeling guilty. I was the richest man in my environment, but why was I feeling horrible for my success? The people loved me, treated me as their hero, when allI had to do was bring them some disgusting leftovers to fill their stomach. It was great for business, because I became a public figure, the man who brought food once in a while.
It was during the winter of 1934 when it all happened. On this chilly January evening, as I was heading out to my weekly poker night with my friend Bryer, something happened to me that changed my life. I stepped foot outside, right on Wall Street, when I felt a liquid drip on me. It was snowing, therefore I didn’t quite pay attention to the factors, but my shiny white coat slowly dripped from dark red blood. I didn’t dare tilt my head, because I knew exactly what happened. That’s when I saw a perfectly good looking young man hung with a giant rope, holding from one of my 7th floor apartment balconies. My toes froze, as I stood there traumatized for at least thirty minutes. For the first time in my life, I felt guilt run through my entire body, haunting my heart and brain. Shivers of fear and pain ran through my veins, and my eyes were fixed on the hundreds of citizens questioning me, and gossiping about the situation. As the paramedics and the police officers questioned me about this man I did not know, who lived in my building, they came to conclusions that he had committed suicide because he had some horrible financing situations. He hadn’t paid rent in over four months, and I was too rich to even notice. My heart turned cold for the ones living in sickness and in poor conditions for years. What could I have done to prevent this? Why did I care so much? I didn’t even acknowledge the man, so why was it bothering? Myfeelings completely took over my body, for the first time in my life.
A couple days later, I searched for a way to give back to the community. It seemed that many people needed my help, and I decided to donate money to charities, especially those in desperate need, Bryer laughed to my face. I went on, and explained what happened earlier that week. He understood, and offered his help. Together, we donated two million dollars to the American Red Cross charity, helping with disasters. We also donated to the New Deal social welfare program founded by president Franklin D. Roosevelt, directed to solve the unemployment problem. After a couple months, every hundred dollars I made, I would divide it in half, and give the portion away to the ones who needed it the most. If my father would have been able to see my work, he would look at me with pride and joy, and be proud of my personal growth. Obviously, the money still mattered to me, and the charities in which I invested in were giving me great publicity, but it didn’t matter as much as the ones in need anymore. I can say it again, I am probably one of the most successful businessmen on Wall Street at this time of day.
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