Art Cashin, who worked at the New York Stock Exchange for decades, dies at 83 | Wilnesh News

Art Cashin, UBS’s director of floor operations at the New York Stock Exchange, who was dubbed “Wall Street’s version of Walter Cronkite” by the Washington Post, has died. He is 83 years old and has been a regular guest on CNBC for 25 years.

In the competitive and often vicious world of stock market commentary, Cashin is that rarest of creatures: a man respected by everyone, bulls and bears, liberals and conservatives alike. He seemed to have few enemies.

He was a great drinker and conversationalist, as well as a storyteller.

For decades, he gathered a group of like-minded friends every day after trading halts, first at the bar of the New York Stock Exchange Lunch Club and then across the street at Bobby Van’s Steakhouse, a group that came to be known as the “Legend of Fermentation.” friend” “. He drank Dewar’s, always on the rocks.

Cassin owes his success to charm, wit, intelligence and a stubborn persistence in refusing to accept the many conveniences of the modern world. He has a strong connection to the heritage of the New York Stock Exchange. Every Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve, he would lead the 1905 song “Waiting for the Sun to Shine, Nellie.”

Cashin, who refused to use credit cards and paid all bills, especially large bar bills, with cash, said he cherished his anonymity. He never learned to use a computer—his notes were written by hand and sent to his assistant. For years, he had used an outdated flip phone and rarely answered calls.

His desk is filled with documents he has accumulated over decades. Sometimes, it’s similar to a recycling facility.

Cashin’s suits are usually rumpled and his ties are always worn.

However, neither his appearance nor his attitude are casual. They are part of an image that Wall Street has carefully crafted for more than 50 years.

Arthur D. Cashin Jr. was born in 1941 in Jersey City, New Jersey. He began his business career at the Thomson McKinnon agency in 1959, when he was 17 and still in high school. That year, Cassin’s father died unexpectedly and he had to join the workforce.

In 1964, at the age of 23, he became a member of the New York Stock Exchange and a partner of PR Herzig & Co.

At the time, the vast majority of trading took place on the New York Stock Exchange. Cashin’s early memories revolve around the noise of thousands of agents shouting at each other. He claimed to be able to tell whether the market was rising or falling by the pitch of the screams, as sellers sounded panicked. “If it’s a loud noise, I know the seller is coming toward me. Or if it’s a rumble, I know it’s probably a buyer coming,” he said in a 2018 interview.

In the mid-1970s, Cashin, disgusted with the corruption in his hometown of Jersey City, ran for mayor. “I think I ran 12th in the five-man field,” he said. “But once they find out I’m honest, my chances of getting elected are slim.”

He returned to Wall Street. In 1980, he joined PaineWebber and managed its floor operations, a role he continued in 2000 when PaineWebber was acquired by UBS.

Then came 2001.

Kassin often recalled fleeing Ground Zero after terrorists crashed two jetliners into the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, killing more than 2,600 people in the heart of America’s financial capital. .

“That Tuesday, many of us came out and walked through the streets, and dust, smoke and business envelopes fell like snow on them, blocking your view and your breath.” he wrote in a comment 13 days later. “However, when meeting a stranger, they were invited to join the convoy and given a spare wet cloth (to put in their pocket) so they could breathe while walking. When we reached the East River (Brooklyn side of Manhattan) ), there was a volunteer force of tugboats, fishing boats and small ferries that looked like the evacuation of Dunkirk, without any expense but with disputes with neighbours.

After the September 11 attacks, Cashin served as chairman of the New York Stock Exchange’s Fallen Heroes Fund, which provides millions of dollars to the families of first responders who have died in the line of duty.

Although he is a respected market historian, he is best known as a stock market storyteller. He is a careful observer of fundamentals and technical trading patterns, but never lets data get in the way of explaining the markets in an approachable way that even the casual observer can understand. He often talks about Wall Street being a community of people with different views. In his world, bulls and bears fight every day, like in a John Wayne Western: “The bulls circle the wagons, trying to defend the high” is a common refrain.

His daily market commentary, Caxin’s Comments, has been distributed to clients for more than 40 years and is widely read on Wall Street. It always begins with an analysis of an important event that occurred that day (“On this day in 1918, the global influenza epidemic reached its climax in the United States”) and, after a brief history lesson, relates that event to the day’s market events (“Week. U.S. stock futures looked like they might be headed lower due to the flu before trading opened Wednesday morning.

He was a keen observer of human behavior and was a behavioral psychologist long before the term was coined. Time and time again he has seen his fellow humans descend into panic, and has seen the consequences of giving in to the initial, unthinking desire to sell immediately. “What this tells me is that people tend to overreact and not think things through,” he said. “You’re again divided into two groups of people, those who are skeptical about the event and those who say, ‘Oh, I have to react to this.'” Those who react immediately rarely do well, And those who were a little skeptical did better.

He had two great loves in life: his family and the New York Stock Exchange. In the age of computerized trading, the legendary New York Stock Exchange trading floor still exists, albeit in a much reduced form. When it closed during the coronavirus pandemic, he said he was “disappointed … but understandably so.”

Cashin sounded philosophical when asked about the rise of electronic trading, which has slowly but surely eroded the influence of trading floors. “I miss the good old days when your spirit rested on the fact that you kept your word or you were out of here,” he once said at Bobby Van’s Bar. But he acknowledged that electronic trading had improved trading Speed ​​and accuracy, especially record keeping.

Among his many friends, he is perhaps best remembered for his humility. He seemed genuinely confused by his popularity. “People are interested in Arthur Cassin. I can’t quite understand why,” he said.

When The Washington Post profiled his career in 2019, dubbing him Wall Street’s version of CBS News’ Cronkite, he quipped, “I guess I should apologize to Walter Cronkite.”

In lieu of flowers, the family requests that donations be made to the Arthur D. Cashin, Jr. Memorial Scholarship at Xavier High School. Donations can be sent to Xavier High School, 30 West 16th Street, New York, NY 10011.

—CNBC Martin Steinberg contributed to this report.