My Friend is Dying of Lou Gehrig’s Disease

Armory of the Revolution


The year was 1973. I was a newly minted stockbroker in the employ of Paine, Webber, Jackson, and Curtis, fresh out of training from Fairfield University in Fairfield, Connecticut. I was duly licensed by the New York and American Stock Exchanges, the New York Mercantile Exchange, and the Chicago Board of Trade, ready and able to serve clients in the purchase and sale of stocks, bonds, and commodities futures. I returned from New York to begin my new career in offices in Encino, California.

As the newbie in the office, I was stuck with staffing the office for walk-ins after the markets closed. While occasionally a substantial potential client dropped in, most were retirees or people with a few shares of stock they wished to sell. In between the walk-ins I would cold call doctors, lawyers, former clients of the firm, and personal contacts seeking…

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