ForeverMissed
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And for sure, Stanley's integrity shone through. He was a man with a conscience and bundles of courage, someone able to stand in his own truth, and bear the pain of disappointment.  In my experience, that is rare.  I created this memorial website in Stanley's honour, because not only was he a great friend,  who I will carry in my heart always, but he transformed the City.  His signature parting-shot after we had lunch was always "See you when I look at you".  And those were his last face-to-face words after our lunch in June, as we parted company on Piccadilly.  Yvonne, the lovely proprieter of the Sun Inn, in the picturesque village of Dunsfold, who I met the day of Stanley's memorial service, said Stanley gave the best hugs ever.  He did; he loved hugs and smiling, and could always find something to laugh about.  I recall a lunch aboard Highland Beauty, when it was moored at Birdham, and Stanley sitting on deck with a glass of champagne, the sun shining, and him beaming me a smile and saying, "Life ain't so bad, Ducks, is it?"  He said similar many times, and could savour a moment whatever challenges he faced, which in recent years included a number of health problems.  A few extracts from a speech he gave to South West Shingles Yacht Club in March this year:

" ... I was in the sitting room watching the end of an old edition of my favourite sitcom ‘Cheers’ and as my son [Adam] went by at a rate of knots, I called out ‘Give me a hand up.’ ‘Be back in a tic’, he yelled and ‘DO NOT MOVE’. Now of course, I will not be told what to do by my son, in my own house. Moreover, my wife, needed her medications, and there are all manner of things to be done, meals to be prepared, pills sorted, must get on, etc. etc. can’t sit here all day, so I got up without help and promptly went straight down, this time right over the ottoman to my favourite Eames chair... 

... I was ordered not to move, for three whole days. The first day was OK, cos there is something quite soothing about not moving. The second day was a bit more difficult. But happily, I noted an Asian girl attending to the man on the bed opposite. She turned at one point, and seeing me looking at her, she suddenly smiled a great, big, absolutely amazing, glorious smile. I felt, literally, warmed by it. It was extraordinary. It was as if the sun had just swept right across me... 

... Just prior to being allowed home, I took the opportunity to speak to the head of the medical team and told him that I had never been a fan of our health service, but that I was, now, a true convert...

... it beats the hell out of being hospitalised in New York. I was taken ill in the Hotel Pierre one night and I remember well that bumbling Doctor who after taking my Blood Pressure on arrival, injected me with something or other and then after about 20 minutes took my blood pressure again and whispered in a shocked voice “It’s fallen 40 points” to which I, always seeking humour, whispered “Just like the Dow Jones… Next thing I knew I was in an ambulance speeding...

... Coming to the next morning, I found myself in a private room. I was glad to note that I was, given all the excitement of the previous night, still in the land of the living. It was a nice big room (I guess the Pierre does have clout) and I felt well and quite relaxed. What did they give me I wondered? Then a voice at my side said “Ah, you are awake” and I then saw, sitting nearby, an attractive, young, smartly dressed woman with a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. She looked at me and asked quite simply “How are you going to pay?” Not, “How are you? Are you feeling better?” ... I shall never forget that. I replied tersely, “Ring Bill Loverd of Kidder Peabody” and turned away from her in high dudgeon.  I was furious. Then I thought of my blood pressure and consciously relaxed, like you must when you get older; just - let - it - go. What else is there? I guess I shan’t speak here again till the 35th anniversary, when hopefully, I’ll be pushing ninety."

 

 

 

September 20, 2014
September 20, 2014
Stanley was a true friend and ours was a friendship without edge, agenda or negative history; just free and easy and gentle exchanges. We knew each other through the City, yet it was only after I left Salomon that we became friends, although I remember clearly when he and Jackie lost their beloved son, Daniel, in 1979, to Leukaemia, at the tender age of eight. Stanley spoke of Daniel often, and the first time he recounted Daniel's tragic and sudden passing to me, over lunch at the Savoy, I sat and cried, as did he. Stanley wrote a 'possible' musing about Daniel which you can find on this site under "His Life". As a parent, the grief Stanley had to live with, and which Jackie still has to live with, doesn't bear thinking about. Yet more often than not he had a smile on his face and could always find reasons to laugh and be cheerful.   

Ross and Partners provided transparency, levelled the playing field, and gave the underdog (those lowly forgotten investors!) a chance. And that sums up Stanley's character; he cared about openness and winning intelligently, and he was brave enough to stand in his own truth, and by his own words. You will find his famous 'Kidder' speech, which he delivered in 1977, on this site, under "Stories".   

Driving home after the funeral on the A281 I passed countless eateries where Stanley and I had lunched: Black Horse Inn, the Crabtree, Mannings Heath Golf Club, South Lodge Hotel, Dun Horse, Cock Inn, etc, etc. We used to meet about four times a year, and in recent years usually at a place mid-way between Surrey and East Sussex. But our last lunch, in June, was in London, with Charlie McVeigh, at Browns Hotel, at their Hix Mayfair restaurant.  Browns became a favourite of Stanley's following the arrival of Angelo Maresca, former manager at the Savoy Grill, in 2003. Stanley loved fine food and fine service, and he was a superb chef himself, hosting numerous dinner parties on board Highland Beauty when it was moored in St Katherine's Dock.

I'll see you when I look at you, Stanley ...

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September 20, 2014
September 20, 2014
Stanley was a true friend and ours was a friendship without edge, agenda or negative history; just free and easy and gentle exchanges. We knew each other through the City, yet it was only after I left Salomon that we became friends, although I remember clearly when he and Jackie lost their beloved son, Daniel, in 1979, to Leukaemia, at the tender age of eight. Stanley spoke of Daniel often, and the first time he recounted Daniel's tragic and sudden passing to me, over lunch at the Savoy, I sat and cried, as did he. Stanley wrote a 'possible' musing about Daniel which you can find on this site under "His Life". As a parent, the grief Stanley had to live with, and which Jackie still has to live with, doesn't bear thinking about. Yet more often than not he had a smile on his face and could always find reasons to laugh and be cheerful.   

Ross and Partners provided transparency, levelled the playing field, and gave the underdog (those lowly forgotten investors!) a chance. And that sums up Stanley's character; he cared about openness and winning intelligently, and he was brave enough to stand in his own truth, and by his own words. You will find his famous 'Kidder' speech, which he delivered in 1977, on this site, under "Stories".   

Driving home after the funeral on the A281 I passed countless eateries where Stanley and I had lunched: Black Horse Inn, the Crabtree, Mannings Heath Golf Club, South Lodge Hotel, Dun Horse, Cock Inn, etc, etc. We used to meet about four times a year, and in recent years usually at a place mid-way between Surrey and East Sussex. But our last lunch, in June, was in London, with Charlie McVeigh, at Browns Hotel, at their Hix Mayfair restaurant.  Browns became a favourite of Stanley's following the arrival of Angelo Maresca, former manager at the Savoy Grill, in 2003. Stanley loved fine food and fine service, and he was a superb chef himself, hosting numerous dinner parties on board Highland Beauty when it was moored in St Katherine's Dock.

I'll see you when I look at you, Stanley ...
Recent stories

ICMA - 50th Anniversary of first eurobond

November 19, 2014

In June 2013 ICMA hosted a grand celebration at the Savoy marking the Eurobond's 50th Anniversary and this in a way is where Stanley signed off, so to speak, and he did in typical style with a marvellous speech, which you'll find below, courtesy of ICMA.

My Recherche du Temps Perdus Sixty three years ago, I joined Strauss Turnbull. It was a different world. In late afternoons, a little tiny man on a bicycle, rode the alleyways behind Cornhill, used the great long pole he carried, to light all the gas lamps…that’s how different it was. One day Julius Strauss on one of his walkabouts passed my desk, picked up Proust’s “La Recherche du Temps Perdus” looked at me incredulously, "You are hhhreading Proust?” went back to his office, called in his partners and said, wonderingly, “Zere iss a boy, in ze basement, hhrreading Proust I am going to give zat boy a chance” How lucky I was to learn my trading from the Master, how wonderful that his widow is here tonight. Mrs Strauss, Julius was a truly-great- man.

After years of dealing International equities with him and our small team, he one day came crashing in, bellowing in his own inimitable style “Rrrhhhhhoss you vant ze good news, or ze bad news?" It was 1963 good news, Strauss had been chosen to broker the first issue of a new financing, a ?Eurobond (?) bad news, we had to make a price in this thing and sandwich it into our always hectic, arbitrage activity.  Autostrada; the first such bond to enjoy a consistent after-market in the industry that developed, as new US tax laws bit. The early years were amazing. Equity arbitrage was swept aside by huge volume of trading in Finnish, Norwegian, Japanese, US, top name straights and convertibles.

And it was the Wild West. Nothing regulated: believe me, anything went. Want to raise some cash? Easy. Short some new Eurobonds. Payment on value date, delivery in due course. This led many firms not delivering some bonds for l or 2 years!! Not only did they use of the clients money all that time, but much worse, when bonds did, finally come, it was not unusual for them to cut off all the available coupons before delivering on.

In 1967, Kidder Peabody made me an offer I couldn’t refuse, and as other US trading firms rushed to London, competition became frenzied. It all came to a grinding halt as we ran slap bang, into the New York credit crunch. Weeden was the first to cease trading with a $50 million fail position. For 50 years, I add a nought and double it, thus a billion dollar fail position, one tiny firm. Think about it.

Problem was that since all bonds were dollar denominated everything settled in New York. Daily we sent instructions, receive and deliver. But only got incoming, nothing out, interest costs skyrocketed. I flew to New York, went down to Schroders vaults to see what was going on and met Wolfgang Kron, Deutsche, who said “Stanley in 2 weeks I turned a $23 million debit into a $13 million credit.” (add a nought and double it) I rushed to office and demanded Kidder sue them. They sneered “you make so much money, you absorb the goddamn loss”.

We had to deal with a mushrooming industry in almost total chaos. We thought of it as an industry we began, that fuelled our salaries, fed our families, gave us a standard of living of which most people could only dream. Mind you, in the UK thanks to that bastard Healey, we paid 83 % in income tax, but mark my words, that can, and may just be, about -  to - happen - again….

The anarchic state of our market made it essential that a trading association be formed and in 1967, about a dozen of us began what exists today, which led to the first meeting of the AIBD 1969 at the Great Eastern Hotel. I remember the first 3 words Dick Weguelin spoke, at our opening, “Mademoiselle Courtine, Gentlemen”, for in those far off days, in that entire hall, there was only one woman. The lovely Miss Courtine, where are you now. Are you, here? It was such a different world. Why, in Switzerland at that time women didn’t even have the vote. Happy Days. I jest.

Then we got busy - elected an 11 man Executive Committee, Rolf Halberg, became first Chairman, I became Chairman of Market Practices, which wrote the first trading rules, many of which I like to think remain unchanged. Simply establishing rules in a market where none existed, gave it a discipline and a credibility. We, who were there at the beginning, can, be proud of that which grew from our endeavours.

Of a dozen or more founding fathers, two names immediately spring to mind for their truly extraordinary work, month in month out, year in year out, their total dedication to those huge tasks, always struck me as incredible. Without them, the market could never have developed as swiftly and as efficiently as it did. The debt the market owes to Armin Matle and Walter Koller, cannot be overstated. To them, also, must go great credit for the commencement and continuation of the yearly Educational Seminars held in Montreax, further strengthening the markets’ development. 

Some of you may remember “The Week In Eurobonds” the first Eurobond letter of it’s day from 1969. Its irreverent style, stories about my boats, wives, kids, great Danes, what I thought about the government - my New York hierarchy, oh and just occasionally, about Eurobonds, built up quite a following. I felt strong enough within the industry, not only to be one of the first major trading firms to join Morgan’s Euroclear system, but to stipulate that since the new method solved so much, we would only trade with professional firms using Euroclear, who were struggling a bit at the time. I thought they might have sent me champagne for life for that. No such luck.

Now Kidder NY didn’t know the difference between a dollar and a Eurodollar, but looking happily at our bottom line, tended to leave us alone. Sadly, after about 10 years, political factors came into play and they took control. First they stopped my letter which infuriated a lot of clients, but they then went on to award me in 1979 the order of the DCM. Don’t Come Monday. I guess our 45 people in London, having, over one five year period, averaged 34% of the total annual income of a global firm sixty times our number, just wasn’t enough. Hey Ho.

So I set up and developed, a small firm called Ross & Partners at the prestigious address ‘One Finsbury Square’, the activity of which was to make me infamous in the eyes of New Issue fraternity, for our speciality was the so-called Grey Market and our activities changed the way the market functioned. People don’t like change, especially when it threatens huge earnings and in those days Managers competed so fiercely for the high fees on issues pouring out that they were frequently overpriced.

I first realised the opportunity to position our tiny company, when a manager offered me a new Japanese convertible less 5! New issues often dealt at discounts, but never at less 5 and from a manager, unheard of. Couldn’t sell a bond, but it duly came at par, yet was 2 weeks before the first tentative transaction, 88 l/2.

And it was then that I thought, if only I could make such things visible to more people there’s surely a turn to be made. And then, magic day, I had that visit from Reuters, about developing a screen system. And it all took off from there. Because, for us to capitalise upon our activity, it had to be transparent, and being the first to quote new issue prices on a Reuter screen, transparent our main page, RAPC, certainly became. For pre Reuter, in half a minute by phone, you gave a single client a price, post Reuter, in the same instant, the price went to hundreds of people because suddenly, we were at the beginning of a – whole – new - world!

I saw the strength of it, when a fault at Reuters one day meant those selecting my pages were met with the dreaded words “Selective Access” and our phones jammed solid the entire day, as huge numbers of people, many of whom we didn’t know, screamed at us to give them their screen back! And for nothing, they didn’t like me telling them there were going to be no more free lunches. From then on our volumes soared. 

Indeed Reuters told me gleefully, they had such enormous demand to get RAPC, particularly from Swiss Banks, that - they  could - not – install - the - screens - fast - enough. Thought I might have got champagne, from Reuters too, but I still wait.

I can think of no article that illustrates more clearly the turmoil in the market of those years than “Ali Baba and the Forty Bears”

Euromony September 1979. It sets it all out. Some years later, in an interesting postscript to that era the eminent Hans Joerg Rudloff, no less, finally pronounced on the Grey Market, Institutional Investor I think it was, he said “Stanley was right all along” Sweet music to my ears. He didn’t need to say that. But I was glad he did. (Pause) He didn’t send me any champagne either. (Hans Joerg,  I like Louis Roederer pink.)

In a speech for Deutsche in 1987, I quoted a statistic from the first year bond numbers were made available, 1972, showing that while market turnover grew a thousand-fold in that 15 years, the number of trading firms only increased by a multiple of four. Emphasising the trader’s importance I said, “We should not forget, that no matter how sophisticated the technology, or how great the transparency, or how huge the turnover may become, prices do not appear by magic.

For regardless of how many people see the same facts at the same time, it is given to few people, creative and intelligent traders, to have that innate capability to think - to feel- and to actto put up that all important price. Such people, a mixture of trader, salesman and analyst, will always be a firm’s most precious asset. Ain’t that the truth. Well, that’s how it was, but not having been in a trading room for decades, how sad would it be, if, in today’s brave new world, it’s now the computer that makes prices appear, - as if by magic….……

So finally, let me say that in our day, we traded in a system with  very few constraints on any of our activities, and I loved every single minute of it, although I would say to those still in today’s industry, working under the increasingly dark, and seemingly inescapable, shadow of the European Union, that  I – do – not - envy – you – one  - little - bit.

Thank you for listening.

TWO CHOICES: Stanley sent this to me in November 2012

November 17, 2014

Two Choices

What would you do?  You make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:

"When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?"

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. "I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled, comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child."  Then he told the following story:

"Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'

Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again.

Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat. At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.

The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher.

The game would now be over.

The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates.

Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!' Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!'

Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team.

He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.  Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home.

All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!'

As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!'

Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team

'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.

Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

AND NOW A LITTLE FOOT NOTE TO THIS STORY:

We all send thousands of jokes through the e-mail without a second thought, but when it comes to sending messages about life choices, people hesitate. The crude, vulgar, and often obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion about decency is too often suppressed in our schools and workplaces. If you're thinking about forwarding this message, chances are that you're probably sorting out the people in your address book who aren't the 'appropriate' ones to receive this type of message.

Well, the person who sent you this believes that we all can make a difference.

We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the 'natural order of things.'  So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice:

Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?  A wise man once said every society is judged by how it treats the least fortunate amongst them.

You now have two choices:

1. Delete

2. Forward

May your day, be a Shay Day.

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