9/11, Frank Salvaterra, Sandler O'Neill, Sting and Me...

In years past, I have written about some of my amazing friends at Sandler O’Neill who perished on 9/11. Initially, I sent these notes to colleagues, friends and institutional clients and we grieved together and tried to gain some semblance of peace and understanding, where there was none. 

As some of you know, I have an insane autographed record collection, so there is an appearance by Sting at the end of this rather lengthy missive, an encounter which happened entirely through the generosity of Herman Sandler. Although the seasons and years pass, the ache of loss from that dreadful day endures.

I hope you, your family and friends are well.

Neil

Synchronized (1983) signed by Sting, Andy Summers

I had the privilege to work with Frank Salvaterra at Sandler O’Neill on the 104th Floor of 2 World Trade Center. A talented trader and an even better man, he was murdered senselessly along with thousands of others on 9/11. Thankfully, I have some wonderful memories. 

Frank loved all kinds of music and he was up for anything. One of the first shows that we saw together was Doc Watson and Dave Grisman at Town Hall, a fabled New York City landmark. I bought tickets online and we were escorted to our seats, the last row in the center of the balcony. I had never been to Town Hall, and I was excited to be in such an historic and intimate venue. Frank smiled his big smile, a smile that lit up a room, so big his eyes squinted. "You know, Neil, we have a ticket broker. We don't have to sit in the last row."

Duly noted.

A month later I made amends, thanks to Frank and his ticket broker, we sat in the second row for BB King at the Beacon Theater. We also saw shows at Madison Square Garden in the Sandler O’Neill box - Bob Dylan and Paul Simon, Bruce Springsteen, and an Eric Clapton and Friends benefit for the Crossroads Recovery Center in Antigua on June 30, 1999. That was a great show which was augmented by some very special guests: Bob Dylan, Sheryl Crow, Mary J. Blige, and David Sanborn. My wife, Erin, joined us for this gig, as she and Frank shared a special connection. They were born on the same day in the same year, an extremely auspicious day and year! Frank always asked how the birthday girl was, especially when she called the desk, he was always so kind, generous and thoughtful.

One of Frank's favorite songs was a Dylan tune, "Not Dark Yet" off Time Out Of Mind. When a trade was going south, or the desk wasn't making money, Frank would quote Dylan: "It's not dark yet, but it's getting there." There is always a fair amount of gallows humor around Wall Street, but Frank would leaven this quote with his effervescent smile. He was serious, but never took himself too seriously, rare and endearing qualities in a head trader, a boss, or anyone for that matter. When Dylan played the opening chords to "Not Dark Yet" and Clapton started riffing tasty fills, I think my smile was bigger than Frank's. It was a great concert, a great night with even greater company.

I miss Frank Salvaterra and all the other Sandler O'Neill colleagues who perished so senselessly on 9.11.01. Although the years pass, the wound never fully heals. Each year on October 4, we add an extra candle to Erin's birthday cake in remembrance and celebration of a great friend.

Sending love and peace to their families

Here’s the original Herman Sandler and Sting post…

Herman Sandler was a founder of Sandler O'Neill, a financial services investment bank. Along with his partners, he ran a very successful and lucrative practice. Herman was also a benefactor, who gave generously to the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra and The Rainforest Foundation. He looked like Daddy Warbucks: shaved head, glasses perched on the top of his forehead, fit and disciplined like the US Army Captain who had served his country in Vietnam. He was tough and he did not suffer fools, and I was lucky to work for him and his talented team of bankers, salesmen, and traders on the 104th floor of 2 World Trade Center until I left in May 2000.

In November 1999, Sting was playing four shows at the Beacon Theatre in New York City. One of my clients was a big Sting fan and asked if I could get tickets. Tickets were at a hefty premium since the venue was so small - only 3,000 seats vs. Sting's normal Madison Square Garden gig with 20,000+. I bought tickets through a ticket broker and asked Herman for backstage passes, since Herman was friends with Sting and his wife, Trudie Styler, and served with them on the board of The Rainforest Foundation. Herman said, "No problem." Everything was no problem with Herman, even his boat was named "No Problem." Herman secured the backstage passes the next day and handed them to me. No problem.

The night of the show, I met the client and her trading assistant for a quick dinner at the Ocean Grill on the Upper West Side. They were very excited to see Sting. We finished our meal and headed over to the Beacon. The backstage entrance was near the loading dock, so we flashed our passes and we were escorted in. A roadie told us that there was no real backstage area, so we could stand along the wall or go to our seats. I looked at the wall. That didn't look very promising and it was too early to go to our seats. 'Lets try this again,' I told the clients, 'Follow me.' We went back to where we came from and an elevator door opened. Another roadie got off. We got on. Taped to the elevator wall was handwriting: Sting 6, Costumes 5, Band 4, Catering 3. This was helpful. I pressed 6 and up we went.

Outlandos d’Amour (1978) signed by Sting, Andy Summers

The elevator opened on the 6th floor into an anteroom where Sting had his back to us. He was being interviewed, speaking into a mic attached to a large tape machine. I walked by Sting, nodded, and my clients followed me and stood in the corner. Actually, they cowered in the corner, they were so starstruck. The interview concluded and I greeted Sting. I told him that I worked for Herman Sandler. "Herman is a great friend and a good man. We're doing some great work together on the Rainforest Foundation," Sting said as he signed a couple of his albums. I asked him if he would take a picture with my two guests. He agreed. I coaxed them out of the corner and they flanked Sting as I took a picture. No iPhone in those days, I relied on a throw away camera just purchased at Duane Reade. I took the picture, no flash. I stalled, 'Hey Sting, we got everything working now,' I promised as I took another picture. No flash again. Sting laughed, "You got everything working except the camera!" Then he shook everyone's hands and left. We headed back to our fourth row seats and watched Sting put on a great show. My clients were very grateful that they got to meet Sting, less so when my pictures got developed and came back blank.

Regatta de Blanc (1979) signed by Sting, Andy Summers

Tragically, Herman Sandler died on September 11, 2001, along with sixty-six of his Sandler O'Neill colleagues and some of my best friends. Sting later performed his song "Fragile" at one of the World Trade Center benefits and dedicated it to Herman's memory. I miss Herman Sandler, David Rice, Frank Salvaterra, Bruce Simmons, Howard Gelling, Tom Clark, Tom Collins, Doug Irgang, Stacey McGowan, Kristy Irvine Ryan, Mike Edwards and all the other Sandler O'Neill colleagues who senselessly died that horrible day. Although the years pass, their loss is a wound that never fully heals.

Read about Bruce Simmons here…

https://www.vinyl-magic.com/911-bruce-simmons-herman-sandler-sting-and-me

Read about Stacey McGowan and Kristy Irvine Ryan here:

https://www.vinyl-magic.com/blog/911-stacey-mcgowan-kristy-irvine-ryan-sting-and-me

Read about David Rice here:

https://www.vinyl-magic.com/blog/911-david-rice-sandler-oneill-sting-and-me

Listen to a podcast about David Rice with his brother Andrew and I here:

http://storiesfromnowherepodcast.com/