|
Post by brucearmstrong65 on Jul 25, 2016 14:01:07 GMT -6
Welderman – Chapter 10
Saturday, October 31, 2020
The wedding of Maria Diaz and John Welderman was, to say the very least, an unconventional affair. Both the wedding ceremony and the reception were held at the Mountain Springs Saloon across the highway from Third’s home. The ceremony itself was held at the center of the parking lot and was performed by a pastor who owned a Harley and was a regular at the saloon. Jose, Maria’s brother, drove Third and Maria in Third’s Caddy the short distance to the saloon, with an escort of four motorcycles organized by Leadfather. The kissing of the bride to end the ceremony was accompanied by cheers, applause, and the occasional call of “You’ll be sorree!”
The weather – upper 70s and clear – allowed the reception to be held in the Grotto, the patio-barbecue area in back of the bar. Leadfather arranged for steaks and a special pig roast for the wedding feast, and a gorgeous sheet cake was delivered from a bakery in Enterprise. Neither Third nor Maria wanted or needed gifts, so a collection was taken up from the assembled bikers and a large donation to Toys for Tots was made in the name of Mr. & Mrs. John Welderman III.
Third and Maria stayed at the reception until nearly 10 PM, which was the saloon’s normal closing time. Jose drove them back to the house and quickly departed, leaving the couple to their own devices. Against Maria’s protests that he’d hurt himself, Third picked her up and carried her across the threshold into their home. Third was sore the next morning, it’s true, but it had nothing to do with picking Maria up.
Tuesday, November 3, 2020
What with all the excitement in preparing for the wedding, neither Third nor Maria had paid much attention to the Presidential campaign. In a way it was rather like watching the repeat of a TV show: Trump vs. Clinton, only this time Clinton had four years of being President under her pantsuit belt. The incumbency didn’t translate to an electoral lead, and all the polls on that last weekend showed a neck-and-neck race.
On Election Day, Third and Maria drove to Maria’s precinct in North Las Vegas so she could cast her ballot in person. Third had already sent in his absentee ballot the week before. Neither told the other how they voted, deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, at least this early in their marriage. Once she voted, they drove to her house where, with Jose’s help, they loaded the Cadillac with everything she wanted to take with her to Third’s house. No, not Third’s house, Maria thought as they worked. Our house, and oh how I love the sound of that! At noon, a truck from Goodwill showed up, and everything that neither Maria nor Jose wanted was taken away by the charity.
The three stood together in the center of the now-empty home, Maria and Jose lost in the decades of family memories, Maria and Third looking forward to the new memories they would have together.
Jose stayed behind; he had an appointment with a real estate agent to look over the house, decide what work needed to be done, and set a price. Jobita’s will had left Jose and Maria with half of the house; Maria signed her portion over to Jose in exchange for half of the net proceeds once the house sold. Third and Maria decided to skip a lunch stop in Vegas and headed home to Mountain Springs.
They watched CNN’s coverage of the presidential election that night, and as the results came in, it was clear that the race would be close. Trump did well in the southern states and in parts of the midwest; Clinton swept the rust belt and the northeastern states, with the exception of New Hampshire. Trump lost Texas and Pennsylvania by the thinnest of margins, but offset that by eking out a victory in California by less than 100,000 votes. By midnight, Nevada still hadn’t been called for either candidate. For the first time in history, Nevada would decide the presidency.
At 2 AM Mountain time, CNN called Nevada for Trump, Fox called Nevada for Clinton, and they both rescinded their calls by 2:15. MSNBC refused to make a call one way or the other and managed to piss off the few viewers it still had.
Finally, at 3 AM Mountain time, while Third and Maria were both sound asleep on the living room sofa, with the TV muted but still on, CNN called Nevada for Clinton, to be followed five minutes later by Fox, MSNBC, and the three major broadcast networks. Hillary Clinton had won reelection to the Presidency, with 272 electoral votes to Trump’s 266.
It wasn’t the margin President Clinton wanted, but for her purposes, it would do. It wasn’t the outcome the financial markets worldwide wanted or expected, and the consequences of that would be felt for many years to come.
Wednesday, November 3, 2020
Third and Maria woke up about 6 AM, both stiff and uncomfortable from sleeping upright on the sofa. Upon seeing the results, both uttered a four-letter word and immediately apologized to the other for uttering it.
Third channel surfed between MSNBC, Fox and CNN while Maria got the coffee going. The collective opinion of the talking heads was that Clinton’s second term agenda would be “fewer guns, more taxes, more spending.” CNBC reported that the market indicators showed a massive stock drop when the markets opened later that day.
“Is this going to hurt us, Third?” Maria asked, as she handed Third a cup of coffee and sat down next to him with her coffee.
“It sure won’t help us, Maria, but I’ve slowly been getting out of stocks since July,” Third said. “Our stock position is down to about 20% of our portfolio. I’ve been investing pretty heavily in physical gold and silver. So we should ride this out okay, especially if nothing else happens. If the fit hits the shan, as Grandmom used to say, we’ve got all the stuff in the shelter. We could last without anything from the outside for close to two years, especially with what you brought over.”
Part of Maria’s stuff they had moved from her house the previous day was several cases of MREs and freeze-dried food, bottled water, and a case of ammo for her Smith & Wesson 638. She also brought a paramedic-quality medical bag, one area in which Third was lacking a bit.
Third went and got washed up and found himself joined by Maria, which considerably extended their time in the shower. Neither one was in a hurry.
Later that day
Both Third and Maria had taken the week off and, without any particular plans for the day, were enjoying lazing around the living room. Third was updating the inventory records for the shelter on his laptop, making sure everything brought over from Maria’s house was added into the system. Maria was reading some training materials for her next Continuing Ed course. The TV was on in the background with the markets’ response to President Clinton’s reelection.
Third shook his head as he heard the top-of-the-hour summary on CNBC: Circuit breakers tripped. Dow down 1,200 points. Precious metals skyrocketing. No statement from the White House or Federal Reserve. Same old, same old, Third thought.
Tuesday, November 10, 2020
And for a while, it appeared Third was right. Same old, same old – market goes up, people cash out, market goes down, bargain-hunters buy. As the days went by, the valleys weren’t quite as deep and the peaks were higher. By the Wednesday following the post-election plunge, the Dow Jones had gained back all but about 80 points of its loss.
Third finished up his lecture at the Local 88 apprenticeship program about 11:30 and took questions for a half hour or so. As a result, he was a few minutes late to his noon lunch with Andy Simone at Buddy V’s inside the Venetian. Third was surprised at the choice, as it was a bit more upscale than he usually chose. But a lunch with Andy was a wonderful thing regardless of where they ate, so Third showed up without complaint.
Third found Andy in one of the corner booths, sitting with a nearly-full beer in front of him. They greeted each other like long-lost brothers and Third sat down, ordering an iced tea with lemon when the waitress came over.
“So what’s the good word today, Andy?” Third asked.
“I’m retiring, end of the week,” Andy said quietly.
Third’s jaw dropped to the floor. “You’re what?”
Andy smiled at Third’s surprise. “I’m retiring from Local 88, effective Friday. Gloria and I are selling the house and moving.”
Third’s face looked pained. “Where to?”
“Well, that’s the good news part of this. You know Jerry Watkins, right?”
Jerry Watkins was a retired union executive and friend of Andy and Third. “Of course, he lives across the street and one house down. But what’s Jerry...” The meaning of Andy’s question became clear. “You’re moving in across the street from me? But how, why?”
Andy laughed at the look on Third’s face and Third, realizing how he must look, joined in.
Andy explained that he’d had a standing offer in for Jerry Watkins’ place for the last 10 years. “Every time I see Jerry, I ask him if he’s ready to sell yet, and he always says no. I saw him a month ago, ask him if he’s ready to sell, and Jerry said yes. I guess his wife’s been ill, and they want to go back east, be near their kids.”
“Sorry to hear that about Helen. When are you moving in?”
“Next week. I offered Jerry cash on the barrelhead and he took it. No escrow. They’ve got a moving van picking up their stuff Friday, we’re splitting the cost of a cleaning crew working over the weekend, and the movers bring our stuff in Monday.”
“That’s terrific. Maria and I will stop by and see Jerry and Helen tonight. But why all these sudden changes, Andy?”
Andy held up his hand as the waitress came over to take their orders. When she was done and a distance away, Andy resumed talking.
“That's the bad news part. You’ve been watching the markets lately, right?” Andy spoke in a low voice to avoid being overheard.
Third nodded and Andy continued. “Well, it’s going to get worse. An acquaintance of mine in Washington who is very inside in the financial world called me last weekend and said China’s going to stop buying any more U.S. or Western debt, and sell off what they’ve already got. Tomorrow’s a holiday, so no bond auction. My source says the sale on the 18th will be cancelled for ‘technical reasons’.”
“How bad is that for us, Andy?” Third asked, being unable to figure out a possible good side.
“Terminal, my friend, absolutely terminal – if China follows through. The next scheduled auction will be Wednesday, November 25th. That gives the U.S. and the West two weeks to try to work a deal. Treasury can’t cancel two auctions in a row, and the Federal Reserve can only buy so many bonds before the markets figure out what’s going on.”
“So we’ve got, what, two weeks before the world’s economy implodes, Andy?”
“Could be a little longer if China delays, or if the Fed dumps money into buying securities like no tomorrow. Faith that ‘somebody will figure out something’ might gain another week.” Andy snorted. “When the last pieces of the puzzle drop into place, and people see the big picture, it’s gonna go and go quick.”
“And when it goes?” Third asked quietly.
“Every market in the world crashes. All sellers, no buyers. Precious metals go through the roof. Governments won’t have the liquidity to pay their bills. Banks will close, all accounts frozen,” Andy said. Taking a long drink of his beer, he continued. “Worse case scenario, Social Security check and welfare payments won’t get made. The first day EBT cards don’t work, all hell will break loose. Looting and rioting in every major American urban area by nightfall.”
The two men sat silently until their meals arrived. Neither had much of an appetite.
Finally, Third spoke. “Well, shit.” The unexpected obscenity from Third was somehow more shocking to Andy than the bad news he had delivered.
“Helluva thing to be telling a newlywed, isn’t it? ‘Congratulations on your new marriage, and the world as we know it is ending.’”
“So what should Maria and I do now? I sold a lot of the stock holdings over the summer, but I’ve still got a million or two tied up.”
“Dump it all if you can, even if you take a loss. Stocks won’t be worth much in a while. Or CDs or bonds or, hell, just about anything. Clean out your safe deposit boxes, take out as much cash as the banks will let you have. You still a prepper?” Third nodded without speaking. “Get what you can, while you can. I put a rush order in to Emergency Essentials. Only question is whether it arrives before the balloon goes up.”
“Remember Senior’s plan, Andy. You and Gloria are always welcome at our home, if things go to hell too quickly for you to get set up.”
“I know that, Third, and Gloria and I both appreciate it. But we’d like to get ready, if we’ve got enough time,” Andy said as he took a bite of excellent bucatini. “say, how was the wedding? I’m sorry Gloria and I weren’t there, but she wasn’t feeling up to it.” Andy’s wife was a type 2 diabetic who had trouble controlling her blood sugar, and as a result had good days and not-so-good days. “Did you get the present?”
Third nodded. “Indeed we did, my friend. Maria threatened me with severe bodily harm if I didn’t thank you for it today.” Andy and Gloria had given them a seven-piece Refresher Set from Tiffany’s, delivered the Monday after the wedding.
“Well,” Andy said, pushing his half-eaten lunch back, “I better be moving on, Third. Got a couple things to wrap up at the local and then at the bank.” The two men stood and embraced. “Remember what I said. Don’t wait too long, ok? My best to Maria.” Andy walked away, paused at the front to take care of the bill, and disappeared out of sight.
|
|
|
Post by pbbrown0 on Jul 25, 2016 15:55:48 GMT -6
"...and the Federal Reserve can only buy so many bonds before the markets figure out what’s going on.” I saw how this was already being done a few years ago and made the decision to let my licenses lapse rather than continue giving the 'sound advice' required for license compliance.
|
|
|
Post by brucearmstrong65 on Jul 25, 2016 19:54:40 GMT -6
Welderman – Chapter 11
Tuesday, November 10, 2020 – afternoon
Third was in a daze as he maneuvered his Caddy through traffic on Las Vegas Boulevard to Nevada 160 (Blue Diamond Rd.) and towards home. For the first time in his life, he didn’t take Andy Simone’s advice – at least not right away. He wanted to get home and talk to Maria first. Maybe she’ll point out something I’m missing, he thought, and save me from making a fool of myself.
When Maria arrived home a little after 5 PM, she found Third sitting on the front porch, in shirtsleeves, with his feet up and smoking a cigar, an empty glass by his side. She’d never seen Third drink or smoke a cigar before dinner. “What’s wrong, honey?” were the first words out of her mouth.
Third put down his cigar and rose to wrap his arms around her. “When I see you, nothing seems quite so bad. But this is, or may be. You better sit down.”
Outwardly, Maria projected calm. Inwardly, she was in a near panic, going down the list of things that could be wrong. Cancer, Alzheimer’s, my brother…
For the next 15 minutes, Third spoke calmly, quietly, without interruption, recounting the revelations at his lunch with Andy Simone.
When Third finished, Maria was speechless. She stared off into the darkening sky toward Vegas. After a minute, she looked back at Third, who was studying her expression.
“Well,” she said lightly, “we better think about dinner. And you need to come inside.” She shivered. “It must be near freezing out here. Why don’t you get a fire going in the fireplace and I’ll see what’s what in the kitchen.”
Glad for something to do, Third took her hand and led her inside the house, walking down to the living room while Maria headed into the kitchen, each lost in their own thoughts.
A few minutes later, Maria came into the living room and saw Third standing by the fireplace, one arm on the edge of the hearth, staring into the flames. She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head against his back.
“It’ll be alright, Third. We’ll get through together.”
Third grasped her hands but didn’t speak at first. Suddenly she realized he was crying.
“Will we? I couldn’t take care of my mother or my grandparents. How can I know I’ll be able to take care of you?”
Maria stepped in front of him and took his face in her hands. “We’ll take care of each other. And if the worst happens … well, we’ll be together when it does.” She smiled. “C’mon, hon. Dinner’s ready. And if you behave, there’s dessert later.”
Wednesday, November 11, 2020
Third had completely forgotten that it was Veterans’ Day until he saw the column on the front page of the Review-Journal showing what was closed and open on the holiday.
Maria had been up early and had something baking when Third came out to the kitchen. “Mmmm, something smells good,” as Maria came over and kissed him before handing him a mug of coffee. “Something tastes good, too.”
“Oh, you!” Maria said, laughing. “If you will unhand me, good sir, I will serve your breakfast. I trust that cinnamon crumb coffee cake meets with your approval?”
“Anything you do meets with my approval, Maria,” Third said, then hesitated. “Look, um, I’m sorry about last night.”
“What about last night, Third?” Maria said as she cut a piece of the coffee cake and brought it over on a plate.
“Well, you know, at the fireplace,” Third reminded her.
“Nothing happened at the fireplace, Third. I don’t know what you’re talking about. We stood watching the fire and then we had dinner.”
“This looks terrific, Maria!” Third said, clearing his throat to get the words out. “So what’s the plan for today, young lady?”
“Well, seeing how cold it is, I say we stay inside and take it easy. Maybe we should draw up some plans for tomorrow – who’s going to which bank and whatnot.”
Third made a note on his tablet. “I’m going to put in another order with Ammo Supply Warehouse and Emergency Essentials. And let’s make a Costco and Walmart Supercenter run on Saturday. If we can’t get all our money out, let’s spend it while the banks are still open.”
“Why not go to Costco and Sam’s Club today?” Maria asked. “Neither one closes for Veterans Day.”
“And that, my lovely, is why you’re the brains of the operation,” Third said, “and I’m the brawn.”
“That’s good,” Maria replied. “I like brawn.”
That afternoon
Maria and Third drove in separate cars on their shopping expedition, Maria in her 1979 Toyota Hilux with a shell on the back, Third in his 1969 Cadillac Coupe de Ville. They needed all the space in both vehicles to accommodate their purchases. The Spring Valley district of metro Las Vegas (south of the 95, east of the 215 and west of the 15) had both a Costco and a Sam’s Club, which saved quite a bit of time. The Costco provided ample stocks of toilet paper, paper towels, women’s supplies, coffee and canned goods. It also allowed Third to get a couple cases of Glenlivet 18 and several boxes of cigars.
The door clerk at the Costco, who was supposed to check the carts against the receipt provided, took a look at the four flatbed carts being handled by Maria, Third, and two Costco clerks, then at the receipt, which was longer than she was tall, and waved them through, saying, “Anybody buying that much stuff isn’t going to try to steal anything. What’re you doing, preparing for World War III or something?” The customers behind them waiting to be checked out the door laughed.
“No, just stocking up before the snow hits,” Third said as the procession of carts headed out the door. At least three people in line, who heard Third’s remark, turned around and went back into the Costco.
By the time Maria and Third finished loading up their Costco purchases, with the two clerks’ help, they had to postpone the Sam’s Club run; there was simply no room left in either vehicle. Third tipped the two clerks $20 each for their help. The guys, both about 18, thanked Third, high-fived each other and carefully ran back inside.
The rest of the day was occupied by getting their purchases into the house and organized. The smallest of the spare bedrooms became an extra storeroom; it held most of the new purchases. The remainder went down to the basement.
“Boy, I’m glad I put this chicken in the crock-pot before we went into town,” Maria remarked as she took the chicken out and placed it on a platter for Third to cut up, although it was so tender it didn’t need much cutting.
“Oh crap,” said Third as he was pulling the chicken apart. “We forgot something today. Your brother.”
Maria put her hand to her mouth. “We’ve got to call him, tell him what’s going to happen. All his money from the sale of the house is in the bank. And he’s not very prepared for anything, I don’t think.”
“Well, maybe he’ll be amenable to moving out here with us for the duration,” Third said thoughtfully as he carried the platter to the kitchen table. “Urban areas won’t be safe once everything blows up. Why don’t you call him after dinner and see if he wants to meet us for lunch tomorrow. We’ll talk to him about what’s going to happen and go from there.”
Thursday, November 12, 2020
Third and Maria got an early start the next morning, in order to be at the first bank on their list of six when it opened. At none of the six banks did they have any difficulty retrieving the contents of their safe deposit boxes. Due to the anti-terrorism and anti-money laundering regulations, they had some difficulty getting any quantity of cash.
The first bank set the tone for the rest, as far as cash went. The teller referred them to the chief teller, who referred them to the branch manager. “Mr. Weiderman -”
“That’s Welderman,” Third said, already feeling aggravated with the runaround.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Welderman,” the manager began again. “This is most unusual. As you know, we have to notify the Internal Revenue Service of all transactions above $10,000, and this,” the manager said, looking at a withdrawal slip in the six figures, “is quite significantly above $10,000.”
“Will there be a problem getting our cash, sir?” Maria asked quietly, at the same time placing a hand on Third’s arm to relax him a bit.
“We prefer three business days’ notice for a transaction of this size, Ms. Welderman,” the manager replied. “That’s standard in the industry, and that’s in the terms and conditions of your account.”
“So if we gave you notice of an intended withdrawal today, we wouldn’t get our cash until when, next Wednesday?” Third asked quietly, in a tone of voice which Maria knew mirrored his extreme anger, but which the manager was blithely unaware of.
“That’s correct, Mr. Welderman.”
“Very well,” Third replied. “I’d like to make a large withdrawal, which I expect to be able to get by the close of business on the 17th.”
“Very good, sir,” the bank manager said. “And how much of it would you like to withdraw?”
“All of it.”
“I’m sorry, sir, did you say all of it? That’s over -” the manager looked at the balance on the computer screen, his eyes growing large as he realized the trap Third had just set for him - “half a million dollars.”
“Yes, I want every penny ready for pickup next Wednesday. And leave time to count it. Frankly, I’m not sure I trust your institution any more.”
“Mr. Welderman, I’m sure we can work something out. Would a hundred thousand dollars be acceptable today?”
“That’s a good start, my friend. How long will it take to process that transaction?”
“Within the hour, sir. Normally, we’d have to wait until the cash was delivered from our regional office, but I think we can wave that in this case.” The bank manager was freely sweating now and nearly in full-on panic mode.
Third stood up and extended his hand. “Fine. My wife and I will be back here at 11 AM. I trust that is sufficient time?”
The bank manager shook Third’s hand. “That’ll be more than enough time sir. I’ll see to it personally.”
“I appreciate that, sir. Good morning.” Third and Maria walked out of the manager’s area and towards the front door of the bank. The manager, with visions of his career and his stock options going up in smoke, went into the vault and started counting furiously.
“Remind me never to make you mad, darling,” Maria said playfully as they got into the Cadillac.
“My fuc- … sorry, my friggin’ money and they want me to dance like a trained friggin’ monkey to get it from their friggin’ bank?” Third ranted, then immediately apologized. “I’m sorry, dear, I shouldn’t be yelling at you. Besides, you’re too cute to yell at.”
“One F-bomb and three friggin’s in one sentence,” Maria chided Third. “I think that’s a record for you.”
Third stared at her for a second and then laughed long and hard as he headed the Cadillac for the next bank.
The other banks were a bit more cooperative, and by 11AM, when Third and Maria returned to the first bank, Third’s briefcase held more than $500,000, all in $100 bills. The now-subservient bank manager’s eyes grew huge when he saw the briefcase’s contents as Third put away the money.
“Darn, these last two straps won’t fit in the case. Toss these in your purse, would you dear?” Third tossed two straps, each worth $10,000, to Maria who caught them on the fly.
“Thank you for your assistance, sir,” Third said in all (apparent) sincerity. “The rest of my balance is accessible by check or debit card, correct?”
“Oh yes sir, at any time you need it. Will there be anything else?”
“No, I think you’ve done enough for us for today. Good day.”
Noon – Bachi Burger
Jose was speechless when Third finished relaying Andy’s information. He looked at Maria and then back at Third. Finally -
“You trust this man, Andy?” Jose asked.
“With my life,” Third replied truthfully. “And with Maria’s.”
“Okay, so what do I do now? Everything I’ve got is in the bank, except for some cash at home. I shop from week to week.”
“Well,” Maria said slowly, “get as much money as you can from the bank. We spent all morning emptying out our safe-deposit boxes and arguing with tight-fisted bankers.”
“Then get what you want from your apartment and come live with us,” Third added. “What you do with the money is up to you. I’d advise keeping some in cash, buying some gold coins, and putting the rest into hard goods – food, guns, ammo – like we’ve done.”
“Okay, I’ve heard enough,” Jose said. “I’m going to my bank right after this. I’m off this afternoon, so I’ll take a couple hours to clean out the apartment and then head up your way. Probably by five. I’ll call if there’s any delay.”
“What bank do you use, Jose?” Third asked. When Jose mentioned the name, both Maria and Third burst out laughing. It was the same bank and branch they had first visited this morning.
“Jose, if the manager gives you any trouble, just tell them you’re Mr. Welderman’s brother-in-law. He’ll be throwing cash at you.”
Jose was true to his word; he pulled into Maria and Third’s driveway promptly at 5 PM, his Grand Cherokee loaded to the gills.
A third chair was added to the front porch that evening.
|
|
|
Post by 9idrr on Jul 25, 2016 21:58:22 GMT -6
Thanks for my daily dose, sir.
|
|
|
Post by ss1442 on Jul 26, 2016 8:56:01 GMT -6
Thank you again and a extra thank you for not having the SHTF on the Marine Corps birthday.
|
|
|
Post by brucearmstrong65 on Jul 26, 2016 10:02:46 GMT -6
Thank you again and a extra thank you for not having the SHTF on the Marine Corps birthday. My dad was one of Uncle Sam's Misguided Children for 15 years (40-55). November 10th was practically a holy day in our house.
|
|
|
Post by ss1442 on Jul 26, 2016 10:59:38 GMT -6
I always have said that veterans day was invented so that Jarheads could recover from the Marine Corps Ball hangover. Semper Fi
|
|
|
Post by pbbrown0 on Jul 26, 2016 12:17:08 GMT -6
Bruce, I thoroughly enjoy your stories, your writing style, all of it. I am waiting impatiently for MOAR.
|
|
|
Post by papaof2 on Jul 26, 2016 16:14:42 GMT -6
As usual. I'm hooked.
|
|
|
Post by jdavidboyd on Jul 26, 2016 16:25:18 GMT -6
So where is some more?
|
|
|
Post by freebirde on Jul 26, 2016 17:02:16 GMT -6
|
|
|
Post by brucearmstrong65 on Jul 26, 2016 21:33:28 GMT -6
It's coming, it's coming! LOL - I am trying to understand how the markets open around the globe, and how circuit breakers on the markets work, so I can make the collapse sound somewhat realistic. Now my brain hurts...
|
|
|
Post by papaof2 on Jul 26, 2016 23:32:54 GMT -6
Something that might help with the time of day - World Clock can display the time in many cities so you could readily see time between market open in Japan vs Germany vs US. www.zada.com.au/worldclock.htmIt's even free.
|
|
|
Post by brucearmstrong65 on Jul 28, 2016 17:45:04 GMT -6
Welderman – Chapter 12
Friday - Tuesday, November 13-17, 2020
Jose slept in late and Maria was already off to work giving Third basically a free morning at home. Maria and Third were going to Andy’s farewell dinner that evening at Nora’s, a mom-and-pop Italian place well off the strip in Vegas’s Spring Valley community.
Third wasn’t planning on lazing about, however. He had several phone calls to make.
The first call was to his financial planner, directing him to liquidate all his equity holdings. Not surprisingly, that call took the longest, as the planner (who also had a broker’s license) tried to dissuade Third from leaving the market. The second call was to Emergency Essentials, ordering the same as his last order: a one-year supply of freeze-dried foods and a one-year supply of MREs. The third was to Ammo Supply Warehouse, ordering 10 cases of .12-gauge, mixed between 00 buckshot and slug. Jose had brought his .12-gauge shotgun, and Senior had a couple of .12-gauge security shotguns in his collection, so it seemed a good time to increase their stockpile. Third’s order wasn’t big enough to get delivered, so he and Jose would drive down later that day and pick up the ammo.
The last call – or rather, the last six calls – were to the six banks they had visited the previous day, notifying each that he wanted to make another $100,000 withdrawal, in cash, to be picked up on the following Wednesday (Nov. 18th). Third still didn’t like the idea that he had to get permission from the banks to get his own money, but it wasn’t worth creating a stink and maybe getting a call from the IRS or Homeland Security about the transactions.
Andy’s suddenly-organized retirement party at Nora’s was a raucous and well-attended affair with people from all the major unions and not a few of the casinos attending. Andy always looked out for his people at Local 88, but he was not unreasonable when dealing with the casinos and construction companies; in fact, he was near universally respected in the trades.
The weekend had some semblance of normality to it. The three went to the range, where Jose got some extra time in to become familiar with Third and Maria’s weapons. Lunch afterwards was followed by a Costco run to stock up on a few things that had been missed the previous trip.
The next week began normally. Both Maria and Jose went to work as usual. Third went down the street to lend Andy a hand in getting everything moved in. Third and Andy talked about what further steps they could take to prepare, concluding that they had done just about all they could do if the timeframe of events was what they thought it would be. The only thing to do now was to wait for Wednesday’s bond auction and see what happened.
Wednesday, November 18, 2020
Andy came over early to watch the financial news with Third and see what happened with the bond sales.
As Andy’s source has indicated, the Treasury Department postponed that day’s auctions due to technical issues involving the computerized trading system. They also announced that due to the Thanksgiving holiday, the following week’s bond auction would be postponed as well. The next bond auction would be Wednesday, December 2nd.
“Well, what do you think of that, Andy?” Third asked as he refilled the coffee for both of them.
“I think China’s laid down the law, and the U.S. is stalling for time,” Andy replied. “I wouldn’t be surprised if news about China’s position starts leaking out any time now. That could really roil the markets even before the next bond auction.”
“Well, I pulled the pin Friday morning and liquidated my market holdings. Dave Kaufmann was none too pleased,” Third noted.
“He’s gotten his commissions out of you and a lot of Local 88 guys over the years. Besides,” Andy pointed out, “if my DC guy is right, in a couple weeks Dave won’t be working. Neither will the stock brokers or the bond traders, or hardly anyone else.”
“If that’s bad news, it must be Andy,” Maria called out as she came down the hallway.
“Don’t shoot the messenger, Maria,” Andy replied as he rose and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “How’s married life going?”
“Pretty darn good until you dropped that bomb on us last week, Andy. Have you heard anything new since then?”
Andy shook his head and pointed at the now-muted TV showing CNBC. “Just like he said – Treasury bond auctions cancelled this week and next. I told Third I think the U.S. is stalling for time.”
“Well,” Maria said, walking into the kitchen, “we’re about as ready as I think we can be. Don’t we get that Emergency Essentials shipment today, Third?”
“That’s what the tracking numbers showed the last time I checked,” Third agreed. “So I suspect Jose and I will be busy the rest of the day putting more stuff away.”
“Speaking of busy, I have got to get to work! You two behave or at least don’t get caught,” Maria said as she pulled on her coat and gloves and gave Third a kiss on the lips.
“Third, how the heck did you get so lucky?” Andy asked as Maria went out to the garage.
“Don’t know and don’t care, as long as she’s by my side,” Third replied with a smile.
Later that day, Third and Jose made the rounds of the six banks that Third and Maria had gone to last week and picked up $100,000 in cash from each. The one bank manager that had given Third and Maria the most trouble was nowhere to be seen; his assistant, Linda Arabian, was someone Third had dealt with before, and she took care of the transaction and was as friendly as could be. She also put Third, unintentionally, in a tough spot.
As they were counting the number of straps and spot checking one or two, Linda asked Third, “Mr. Welderman, it’s probably none of my business, but why on earth do you want this much cash?” Third thought for a second on how to reply, then said honestly, if not wholly truthful, “I suspect there might be trouble with the banking system soon, and I wanted to have plenty of cash on hand.”
“Are you expecting a bank run, Mr. Welderman?” Linda asked.
“Not on this bank per se, if you know what I mean,” Third replied.
Linda thought while they finished counting the straps and Third put the money away in his case. “Any idea when this, this whatever, is going to happen?”
Third looked her straight in the eye. “Soon, Linda. Definitely before Christmas.” Third paused, then added, “Maybe before Thanksgiving.”
“Well, it’s been a pleasure helping you, Mr. Welderman, as always. And educational, too. Call if you need anything else.”
“I’ll do that, Linda. You take care of yourself and your family, ok?”
Linda nodded, understanding what Third was telling her without saying it in so many words.
“You think she’ll do anything about it, Third?” Jose asked. Third had told him the story about his nickname and given him grudging permission to use it.
“I hope so, Jose,” Third replied, as they walked out to the Cadillac. “She’s got twin daughters, six years old. I was in here one day when their class was getting a tour of the bank, and Linda pointed them out to me. Cute little blond girls.”
Third put the briefcase in the trunk and the two men got back into the Cadillac. Third sat staring straight ahead, not starting the car. “I think it’s finally hitting home, Jose.”
“What is, Third?”
“If this collapse is as total as Andy’s source says it will be, a lot of people are going to be dead or dying in a couple weeks,” Third said, starting the car. “And it’s too late to do much anything about it. I hope Linda and those little girls make it.”
Saturday, November 21, 2020
The pre-Thanksgiving weekend weekend was as ordinary for Third, Maria & Jose as it could be, considering the end of the world was possibly imminent.
The three followed Third and Maria’s habit of going shooting Saturday morning followed by lunch. In an effort to standardize weapons among the three, Third had ordered two Rossi Circuit Judge rifles and two Smith & Wesson Governor revolvers. Jose had a concealed carry permit as well, so he and Maria both switched their CCW pistols to the Governor revolver. Jose’s .12-gauge shotgun, plus the two Third had inherited from Senior, gave them a trio of those weapons as well.
The trio stopped at their regular Costco to pick up a few things. As they walked near the canned foods section, they ran into Linda, the assistant manager of one of Third’s banks. She was accompanied by her husband and two twin daughters.
“Mr. Welderman, nice to see you today! You remember my girls, Lori and Brenda? And this is my husband, Bill.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Bill,” Third extended his hand. “This is my wife Maria and her brother, Jose.”
Third noticed the flatbed cart Linda and Bill were pushing was fully loaded with essentials – coffee, powdered milk, canned goods, and the like. Linda saw where his gaze was directed. “This is the vacation fund, or most of it,” Linda said with a smile.
“Mr. Welderman,” Bill started to say, but Third held up his hand.
“Call me Third, Bill, my dad was Mr. Welderman.” The two men laughed.
“All right, Third. Linda told me what you said at the bank Wednesday, and she trusts your judgment, and I trust her, so that’s that. But how bad do you think this, um, ‘situation’ will be?” Bill asked.
“The man who passed on this information I’ve known for decades. I’d trust him with my life,” Third said quietly. “He called it a total collapse.”
“I was hoping you were wrong, or that somehow Linda misunderstood,” Bill said with a sigh. “Guess that was whistling through the graveyard on my part.”
“Frankly, Bill, I wouldn’t mind him being wrong. Everything we’ve bought, well, if nothing happens, we’ll use over time. But a lot of people aren’t even prepared for basic everyday emergencies. They certainly won’t be prepared for this.”
“Well, Third, I appreciate your telling Linda what you could. Gives us a chance to get a few things done, and more if there’s time.”
“Glad I could be of help, Bill, Linda. Good luck to both of you. And those beautiful young girls.”
The two groups went their separate ways through Costco, and Third explained to Maria what he had said the previous Wednesday to Linda.
“I’m proud of you, Third,” Maria said as they headed past the clothing section and got into one of the many long lines. “It would’ve been the easiest thing in the world not to say anything at all.”
“Well, Linda’s got a good head on her shoulders,” Third said, “God knows how she puts up with that moron boss of hers. Besides, I suspect the information is trickling out anyway. Friends of the Federal Reserve Chair are probably cashing out as we speak.”
|
|
|
Post by 9idrr on Jul 28, 2016 21:20:48 GMT -6
I'm glad to see that you're moving us into the excitement as a nice, slow pace. Now, if'n only I could afford to spend the way these folks are, I might think I was sorta prepared. Still, you've made the protagonist more believable that many stories I've read.
|
|
|
Post by brucearmstrong65 on Jul 28, 2016 22:26:28 GMT -6
Welderman - Chapter 13
Sunday, November 22, 2020
Banner Headline on Drudge Report with Sirens
CHINA BAILS ON US BONDS Selling Old, Won’t Buy New
The headline hyperlinked to a story on InfoWars.com:
The Chinese government has bailed out on U.S. bonds and other government securities, saying it would no longer support reckless U.S. spending and borrowing habits. A joint note from the Chinese Foreign and Treasury Secretaries to the U.S. Secretaries of State and Treasury said that the Beijing government “no longer had confidence in the ability of the United States government to properly manage its constant deficit spending and reckless borrowing habits” and that the Chinese government was therefore “divesting all holdings in U.S. bonds and securities and would no longer participate in Federal bond auctions and sales.”
In an attempt to buy time, the U.S. government cancelled the bond sales of November 18 and 25, attributing the cancellations to technical problems and the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday.
That same day – 7:00 AM
The phone rang at Third and Maria’s house. Third picked up the kitchen handset, where he had been getting things organized for breakfast and answered: “Welderman residence, it’s 7 AM and this better be good.”
“It’s good, Third,” Andy replied, “which is to say, it’s bad. You looked at Drudge Report yet today?”
“Haven’t even turned on the laptop, Andy. Working on breakfast now – want to swing by for pancakes and sausage?”
“Sounds good. Anyway, Drudge has the story on China and the bonds, from InfoWars.”
“Infowars?” Third asked. “That’s the website run by that conspiracy kook, Alex Jones, isn’t it?”
“One and the same,” Andy replied. “He’s not right often, but when he is right, he’s spot on. Everything meshes with what my friend mentioned.”
“What does this do to our timeframe?”
“It depends on whether anyone believes Jones and Drudge. If they do, it’ll all hit the fan when the Asian markets open in several hours. Then the European markets will crash. Finally, us.” Third could detect a slight tremor in Andy’s voice. “Worst case scenario, 36 hours from now, global finance locks up like a blown engine and cities are in flames around the world.”
“Shit.”
“Aptly put, my friend,” Andy said. “Gloria and I will be over there within a half hour for those pancakes. We can talk more then. See ya, Third.” The line clicked.
The fear was rising inside Third. We’re not ready, he thought. I’m not ready. I won’t be able to protect Maria.
“Hello, sweetheart,” said a voice from behind as a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. “Who was that on the phone?”
“Andy,” Third replied, after a second. “I invited them down for breakfast. They’ll he here in a half hour or so.”
“That’ll be great,” Maria replied. “But why did he call you?”
Third turned and looked his wife in the face. “He said Drudge Report has the Chinese bond pullback bannered, from Alex Jones at InfoWars.”
“That nut? Wasn’t he the one that got in a fistfight at the Republican convention four years ago?” Maria snorted.
“The one and the same, my love. I had the same reaction, but Andy says the story is spot on. He said if the markets buy the story, all hell will break loose in a few hours. First, the Asian markets, then the European, and finally New York.”
“Relax, my love,” Maria whispered. “You’ve done all any man could to prepare for this. We’ll be fine. I’ll love you no matter what happens.” She kissed him lightly on the lips. “Now, I’m going to get another pot of coffee going and get the Pumpmaster carafe down. Set the table for five, right?” Third nodded, unable to speak.
“I have faith in you, John,” deliberately using his given name to get his attention. “We will make it.”
Third could only smile at Maria as she puttered around the kitchen, pouring the hot coffee into the Pumpmaster and starting another pot to brew, then getting plates, napkins, and silverware laid out for five.
The doorbell rang and Maria went to answer. “Andy! So you’re the one calling us at 7 AM!”
“Guilty as charged, m’lady,” Andy replied, with a deep bow from the waist.
“Well, come on in, you two,” Maria ushered them into the warm kitchen. “How’ve you been enjoying the new house?”
“Oh, Maria, it’s beautiful!,” replied Gloria. “Jerry and Helen really cared for that place – and the air up here is so clean! I don’t think my lungs are used to fresh air yet.”
“Isn’t it terrific?” Maria agreed. “I’ve been a city girl all my life. I don’t think I realized how bad the air was, say, down on the Strip as compared to here.”
“Speaking of terrific,” Third interrupted, “some terrific pancakes are just about ready. Maria, would you hand me Andy & Helen’s plates, and then go yell for your sleepy-head brother?”
“I resemble that remark, Third,” Jose said as he came into the kitchen, wearing sweat pans & a T-shirt, rubbing his eyes.
“Jose, this is Andy Simone, my old delegate at Local 88 and his wife, Gloria. They live across the street and down a house now. This is Jose, my brother-in-law of twenty-three days.”
“Good morning Andy, Gloria,” Jose greeted the couple as he got coffee from the Pumpmaster and sat down.
“More pancakes in just a minute, folks,” Third said. “So Andy, that InfoWars article Drudge linked to was pretty accurate?”
“Right in line with what my source told me,” Andy replied. “I don’t know who InfoWars’ sources are, but at least on this, they’re right on the money.”
“What do you think will happen next, Andy?” Maria asked as she passed the butter and syrup to the Simones.
“Like I told Third on the phone, if the markets believe the story, the Asian markets will crash,” Andy explained as he prepared his pancakes. “That’ll cascade over to European exchanges and then to America. Massive selloffs of every type of equity and security. Plunges on the order of 15 to 25 percent. That’ll trip circuit breakers all down the line, probably shut the NYSE down for the day within the first couple hours.”
“What does that mean, Andy, ‘circuit breakers’?” Jose asked. “I’ve heard the term before but don’t understand it.”
“A circuit breaker forces a temporary pause in trading when the market loses a certain percentage of its total value,” Andy explained. “For example, if the S&P 500 Index drops seven percent, a Level 1 breaker trips and trading is suspended for 15 minutes. If it drops 15 percent of its value at opening, a Level 2 breaker trips and there’s another 15 minute suspension. If, God forbid, it loses 20 percent of its value, the Level 3 breaker trips and trading is suspended for the remainder of the day.”
“What good do these breakers do?” Jose persisted.
“Basically, the pauses give everyone a chance to calm down from whatever is upsetting the market, get accurate information on what’s going on, and make more rational decisions, rather than acting in panic.” Andy paused. “At least that’s the theory. Some academics think the circuit breakers actually increase panic trading, as traders don’t want to get stuck with ‘bad’ stocks during a trading pause.”
“Well, isn’t this a cheery breakfast conversation!” Gloria laughed. “Let’s enjoy these pancakes and this good company and worry about the end of the world afterwards.” Everyone laughed and agreed, as Third brought over a plate full of pancakes hot off the griddle.
A couple of hours later
A fine breakfast was enjoyed by all, cleanup was swiftly completed, and Third and Maria sat around the living room, looking at various sections of the Sunday paper.
“Hey, Third,” Maria said, “this may sound strange, but I’d like to go to Mass this morning.”
“Nothing strange about that, mi esposa,” Third replied, looking at her over the top of his reading glasses. “Where do you want to go?”
“St. John Neumann, near our old house. That’s where we had services for Mom.”
“I remember that church. When is Mass held?” Third asked, taking off his glasses and folding up the paper.
“If they still go by the old schedule, at 8 AM, 10 AM, noon and 5 PM.”
Third thought. “Never be able to make 10 AM. Why don’t we go to the noon service and then have lunch someplace on the strip afterwards?”
“You wouldn’t mind?” Maria asked.
Third shook his head. “Of course not! Jose, you want to join us?”
Jose nodded. “Good idea, sis. I’ll go get cleaned up and dressed.”
Third waited until Jose had headed upstairs before speaking again.
“Why do you want to go, hon? Because of everything that’s happening – or rather, is going to happen?”
Maria nodded. “I was bitter towards God when He took my mother. But this market collapse, maybe the collapse of society – it’s too big for me. I can’t handle it by myself. And if it’s as bad as you and Andy were talking, we’re not going to drive across Vegas to go to church for a long time, maybe ever.”
Third stood up and held out his hand to Maria. “Well, if we want to make the noon Mass, we better get ourselves in gear. I’ll even let you pick the spot for lunch.”
Maria smiled as they walked up the stairs arm in army. “Anyplace will be fine, as long as you’re by my side.”
A few more hours later
After attending Mass at St. John Neumann’s, Thread drove over to the Border Grill at Mandalay Bay. Andy Simone had recommended it one time – raved about it was more like it, thought Third. Everything Andy had said was true and more. Third had the Gaucho Steak, which he proclaimed the best ribeye he’d ever had. Maria selected the Chicken Poblano Enchiladas, which she described as “nearly as good as Mama’s,” which was high praise indeed. Jose had the Chile Relleno, a dish that had been his favorite as a boy; he was hard-pressed to decide whether his mama’s or the Border Grill’s was better. Each had sparkling white peach lemonade with a refill.
Maria’s eyes grew large when she saw the tab. “Dios Mio, Third! Over a hundred dollars for lunch?” The three laughed at Maria’s reaction.
“Yeah, that’s about what Andy said this place ran,” Third nodded, as he took two $100 bills from his wallet. “Come on, let’s wander around the casino for a while.”
“Um, Third,” Maria asked, “aren’t you going to wait for your change?”
“What change?” Third said with a smile. “Let ‘em enjoy a big tip. Joy will be hard to come by for a lot of people very soon.”
|
|
|
Post by papaof2 on Jul 29, 2016 6:39:31 GMT -6
"Joy WILL be hard to come by" seems to guarantee that SHTF is in their future...
|
|
|
Post by hamrad on Jul 29, 2016 8:51:01 GMT -6
"Joy WILL be hard to come by" seems to guarantee that SHTF is in their future...
well sir /ma'am it was a joy to catch up with your excellent story.
|
|
|
Post by pbbrown0 on Jul 29, 2016 9:06:06 GMT -6
When trying to get ready for unexpected difficulties, there are many "possibilities", that I sincerely hope will never come to pass. The premise for this story, however, is the one difficulty for which I can only see delays, not avoidance.
|
|
|
Post by willc453 on Jul 29, 2016 13:55:17 GMT -6
The hardest part about this story is knowing that 99% of us aren't that well off financially/prep wise. As a truck driver, been to/thru Vegas more than once and thinking of the casino people who don't make that much and when this goes down, MASSIVE looting/shootings, etc. And how cops are going to react to all of this. Wonder if you'll be adding any famous entertainers, actresses, actors, rappers, etc. to the story? As in they HAD millions, but now they have NO cash or access to it. And what happens to their employees/groupies? Someone posted the same thought on YouTube about this.
Wonder how long utilities will be up or will the govt. take them over to keep them running? That is, until the oil/electricity stops coming in. Once the power's lost, NO RUNNING WATER in Vegas, so people will flock to the various casino fountains/Lake Mead. And did I miss something about Thirds water supply....does he have a well?
As a driver, when I pull over for my 10 hours of mandatory down time and at a truck stop, I ALWAYS refuel before finding a spot to park for the night. If something like this went down, I'd head out of town ASAP just to be clear of any rioting, looting, etc.
Thanks for a well written story.
|
|
|
Post by 9idrr on Jul 29, 2016 16:31:58 GMT -6
"As a driver, when I pull over for my 10 hours of mandatory down time and at a truck stop, I ALWAYS refuel before finding a spot to park for the night."
willc453- just wonderin' if, after fillin' up at night when it's hot in places like Vegas, could you get in another gallon or two when things were cooler in the morning and you tried to top off? Probably wouldn't make a difference in most cases, but if I wanted to GOOD as fast and far as possible, I think I'd not want to stop for fuel 'til at least Omaha. Hell, I might even dump out the coffee and fill the thermos with diesel to go another hundred yards before runnin' out.
|
|
|
Post by willc453 on Jul 29, 2016 17:30:27 GMT -6
More fuel when it's cool? No. There's been several studies on this and that little bit you get ISN'T noticeable.
I went to Vegas 2 different ways: first was an other the road driver going where ever they sent me within the continental U.S., so I could be dropping off/picking up a load there or just passing thru. The other was when I (and others) hauled trailer(s) from Reno/L.A. to/from Vegas/surrounding area. These were ltl loads(less than loaded)bringing trailers w/goods to different companies in the surrounding area. When otr (over the road), stayed at Pilot truck stop and when ltl, drop the trailer, refuel, then eating at some casino (bobtailed, meaning no trailer). ALWAYS had time to hit Hooters for lunch, then local hobby shop before crashing. When I did ltl, I'd be in Vegas for a couple of days and do a drop/swap with a Reno driver in Winnemucca. The only truck stops between Vegas and Fallon is Hawthorne, Tonopah and Yucca Mountain Travel Plaza where they also have a ranch and there's a state prison also in that area. Don't forget the Indian reservation store/truck stop going east out of Vegas. Sure as hell be interesting if that place ever caught fire----THE largest selection of fireworks I've EVER seen.
As a otr driver, I'd leave town (w/full tanks if possible), but I also have to check in with dispatch, other wise they could report me as stealing the set. If my load was going to Calif., I'd be checking w/other drivers on the cb to find out what's happening, along with of course, listening to the radio. Push comes to shove, I'm stealing the set and heading home while also advising drivers to do the same.
|
|
|
Post by brucearmstrong65 on Jul 29, 2016 18:00:54 GMT -6
Welderman – Chapter 14Monday, November 23, 2020Drudge Report headlines: MARKETS IN GLOBAL MELTDOWN Asian, European Exchanges Shut Down Massive Losses Trip Circuit Breakers
It was a little after 5 AM when Third got up, turned on the coffee, and sat down at the kitchen table with his laptop. The story of the massive market crashes worldwide were the only story of the day. Everything was down and dropping lower. Every stock exchanges in Asia and Europe had suffered double-digit losses and tripped their trading circuit breakers. Exchanges in Tokyo, Hong Kong, Frankfurt and London had been forced to close early because of the massive losses. Third poured himself a cup of coffee and stood looking out the kitchen window in the direction of Las Vegas. The bright glow of the lights was still visible. Third’s mood was darkening even as the sky outside was beginning to brighten. He turned away and sat back down at the kitchen table. Exchange futures in New York were sharply downward; estimates were that the Dow Jones Industrial Average would open at 500 points down. The only things up oil and precious metals; gold had blown through the $1500 mark and showed no signs of stopping. Rumors were circulating that the dollar would no longer be accepted by OPEC nations for oil purchases. At 6:30 AM, as Maria and Jose were waking up, the NYSE opened and sheer bedlam ensued as the index dropped like a rock. By 6:45 AM the DJIA had dropped nearly 800 points. By 7 AM it was down a thousand points. A CNBC report from Washington indicated an emergency teleconference was underway involving officials of the Treasury Department, the Federal Reserve, the NYSE and the White House. At 7:30 the S&P 500 index went past the first circuit breaker of 7%. Trading was suspended until 7:50 AM. When trading resumed, the market actually made a bit of a rally and cut its losses to 5%. It appeared that the modest recovery would continue, until Fox Business carried a report that the Federal Reserve was dumping cash into the market to slow the decline and protect the dollar. With the news – true or not – that the Federal Reserve was actively intervening in the equities markets, the fear turned into a full-throated panic. Compared to what happened next, the earlier plunge was a walk in the park. By 8:30 AM the S&P 500 had flown past the Level 2 circuit breaker of 15% and tripped the Level 3 breaker of 20%. The chairman of the NYSE entered the floor and rang the bell, closing the session. The market was so far behind the ticker numbers that it took nearly an hour to process transactions posted before the official market closing time of 8:31 AM. A press statement from the chairman of the NYSE reported the Down Jones closing at 17336, down nearly 4,700 points in two hours. The S&P 500 dropped 575 points, closing at 1725. Bloomberg reported half a dozen 911 calls from the NYSE for heart attacks. At 9:01 AM, there was a report of shots fired at one of the brokerage offices inside the exchange; by 9:15 AM, the NYPD reported four suicides by gunshot. By 10 AM, half a dozen senior traders had jumped to their deaths. The Commissioner of the NYPD conferred with the head of NYSE security and reached the joint decision to evacuate and seal the Exchange building in an attempt to prevent more suicides, particularly jumpers, as two civilians outside the Exchange building had been struck and killed. Jose and Maria had both arranged to have Thanksgiving week off, and they were in the living room with Third watching the disastrous financial news on CNBC when Brian Williams interrupted with breaking news that President Clinton had just entered the Press Briefing Room of the White House and was about to speak: “My fellow Americans: I’m sure that by now you are aware of the significant losses suffered by the stock market earlier today, following similar losses by European and Asian markets earlier today. These declines were caused by the reckless Chinese decision to dump billions of dollars’ worth of Federal Government securities on the open market, deliberately creating a panic.
“Let me take this opportunity to assure you that these developments in no way affect the inherent stability of the United States Government, nor its ability to continue normal operations. It is disappointing that the Chinese government has chosen to wage economic welfare against the United States, in the process damaging the personal investments and retirement funds of millions of Americans – and, indeed, millions of people around the world.
“The Federal government is open for business today. It will be open for business tomorrow. The Chinese-led effort to destabilize the dollar, and the United States economy, will not succeed, and will be responded to accordingly.
“I have directed the Secretary of State to file a formal note of protest with the Chinese government via their Ambassador to the United States. Additionally, I have directed the Secretary of State to call home our ambassador from Beijing for emergency consultations.
“As I speak, Administration officials are in emergency discussions with representatives of the Federal Reserve, the NYSE, and major financial and brokerage firms. The stock markets will be open at their regular time tomorrow. Banks, financial firms, and brokerages will remain open today and will be open at their regular time tomorrow.
“I urge you, the American people, to use your usual good sense and remain calm in this time of confusion. The financial system is sound. There is no need to hoard cash or consumer goods. America is open for business and will remain so. No questions. Thank you.” Third muted the TV set, the talking heads talking without being heard. “What do you think, hon?” Maria asked. “I think Madame Hillary just poured a bucket of gasoline on the fire. People are probably running for their banks right now. You know it’s time to panic when someone in authority tells you all is well, like Kevin Bacon in ‘Animal House’.” “What’ll this do to Las Vegas?” Jose asked Third. “Somebody once said, I forget who, that Vegas is built on disposable income. No more disposable income, no more Vegas. If this plunge sticks, and I think it will, you could see 30% unemployment in Vegas by the 1st of December.” The phone rang, sounding abnormally loud in the now quiet living room. Third picked up the cordless handset. “Welderman residence.” “By the sound of your voice, Third, you’ve been watching CNBC,” Andy Simone said with a rough laugh. “You too, I take it. What do you think?” “Somebody gave the President piss-poor advice. The time to panic is when someone says don’t panic.” “Ain’t that the truth. Any guess as to what the market will do tomorrow, Andy?” “Third, I’ll be surprised if it opens. If it does, it’ll probably make this morning look like a cakewalk.” “Shee-it. Oh, Andy, while I’ve got you on the line, you and Gloria are still coming over for Thanksgiving, right?” “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Third.” Andy snorted. “Like a condemned man wouldn’t miss his last meal.” “Trust you to be Mr. Cheerful today. I’ll talk at ya later, Andy.” “Wilco.” :::click::: “Andy and Gloria will be here for Thanksgiving, Maria,” Third said as he put the phone handset back on the charger. “Let’s swing by the saloon for lunch and see what Leadfather wants to do.” “Sounds good, hon,” Maria said, picking up the remote and switching to a local TV channel which was showing lines outside a bank. “Turn that up, would ya, hon? That building looks familiar.” Maria kicked the volume up several notches. A reporter was evidently broadcasting live across the street from a bank where people were lining up at both the outside ATM and the front doors of the bank. “We’ve gotten reports of lines at banks all over Vegas,” the reporter went on. “People are definitely worried about their money with the massive stock market plunge this morning. Back to you in the studio, Tom.” “Thank you, Angela. Folks, that was Angela Alcaraz, broadcasting live from the FirstAmerica Financial Center on West Springs Mountain Road. We’ll be back with more news on the ongoing financial crisis after this commercial message.” A fast-food commercial came on, and Maria muted the sound again. “That’s the bank where Linda works, isn’t it?” Maria asked. Third nodded. “Looks like they’re going to have a busy day down there.” “I’m glad we’re not going into Vegas for anything today – or this week,” Maria said, shaking her head. “Well, actually,” Jose said, “I was thinking of going by my apartment today – pick up the mail, make sure everything’s ok. I’m still on the hook for the rent until the end of the year.” “That’s not a problem,” Third said. “We can go in together, pick Maria up here and stop by the saloon for lunch.” “Or I could go with you,” Maria said, only to be met by a pair of shaking heads. “Why not?” “I don’t know that it’s safe,” Third replied. “Personally, I’d prefer you at home. This is a one-off trip.” Jose pointed at Maria’s now-furrowed brow. “See that look, Third? We’ve lost this argument already.” Third nodded. He’d learned something in his short married life so far: some arguments just aren’t going to be won. “Okay, we go in, check Jose’s apartment, and then we’re out of there. No need to stop at Costco or anything, is there?” Third asked. “Honey, if we buy anything else, we’ll need to buy another house to hold it,” Maria said, laughing, as she got up and started straightening the newspapers.
|
|
|
Post by brucearmstrong65 on Jul 29, 2016 18:16:50 GMT -6
The hardest part about this story is knowing that 99% of us aren't that well off financially/prep wise. As a truck driver, been to/thru Vegas more than once and thinking of the casino people who don't make that much and when this goes down, MASSIVE looting/shootings, etc. And how cops are going to react to all of this. Wonder if you'll be adding any famous entertainers, actresses, actors, rappers, etc. to the story? As in they HAD millions, but now they have NO cash or access to it. And what happens to their employees/groupies? Someone posted the same thought on YouTube about this. Wonder how long utilities will be up or will the govt. take them over to keep them running? That is, until the oil/electricity stops coming in. Once the power's lost, NO RUNNING WATER in Vegas, so people will flock to the various casino fountains/Lake Mead. And did I miss something about Thirds water supply....does he have a well? As a driver, when I pull over for my 10 hours of mandatory down time and at a truck stop, I ALWAYS refuel before finding a spot to park for the night. If something like this went down, I'd head out of town ASAP just to be clear of any rioting, looting, etc. Thanks for a well written story. I'm going to do a "low-income" prepper story next, I think. Jerry D. Young did an excellent take on the low-income prepper a while back with his story "One Man Alone: A Vignette." One of his best stories, I think. His website is down but you can read "One Man Alone" here: www.americanpreppersnetwork.net/viewtopic.php?f=145&t=1569 . Third is going to be surprised as events develop. I won't blow any "secrets," but he's not as prepped as he thinks he is. I'm with you on the refueling, even though I just drive a regular car. Half a tank is my "empty" light.
|
|
|
Post by pbbrown0 on Jul 29, 2016 18:33:19 GMT -6
That is one of the special values of PAW fiction, Bruce. It gives us, the readers, a chance to see things we might otherwise have over looked. You are really good with your stories. Thank you for sharing your talent so generously with us.
|
|