Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56On September 11, thousands gather at Ground Zero to honor those killed fifteen years earlier when commercial airliners were repurposed into deadly missiles, striking a blow at an iconic symbol of capitalism by targeting prominent buildings in New York’s Financial District. On September 16 tens of thousands walk down Wall Street unaware that nearly a hundred years ago New York City’s dead- liest terror attack until 2001 took place right there. Though no plaque marks the spot, the scars are still visible if you know where to look. As the noon hour ap- proached on a fall Thursday morning in 1920, a horse-drawn wagon slowly made its way west down Wall Street toward “the Corner,” the high-powered inter- section of Wall and Broad. Its driver came to a gentle stop in front of the Assay Office, where stockpiles of gold and silver were stored and tested for purity. But theft was not his motive. Next door was the U.S. Sub-Treasury with its own cache of precious metals, including the heroic bronze of George Wash- ington kick-starting a nation out on the front steps. And just across Broad Street stood the iconic façade of the New York Stock Exchange. For an anarchist with deadly intentions at the dawn of the Jazz Age, there could scarcely be a more target- rich environment. But it was the building directly across narrow Wall Street that seems to have held the driver’s interest. J. P. Morgan & Company was the nation’s most powerful bank. Known as “the House of Morgan,” or simply “the House,” 23 Wall Street was the most important address in American finance. Its headquarters distinguished itself by its lack of ornamentation. As other companies proclaimed greatness with buildings that scraped the sky, the House modestly rose four unadorned floors. Inconspicuous consumption at its finest. Of course, the firm announced its presence even more loudly by playing it so cool, and everyone—bankers, wagon drivers, and terrorists alike—knew whose house it was. Few recalled the old wagon or its driver, who suddenly dropped the reins and hurried off. Some recalled Trinity’s bells begin to announce the noon hour. Everyone recalled the sudden flash of light and the explosion. Just before the peal ended, one hundred pounds of dyna- mite exploded, vaporizing both wagon and horse and hurling five hundred pounds of white- hot metal through streets crowded with bank clerks, sec- retaries, and messenger boys out for lunch. An eerie silence followed, broken by the sound of crashing glass and the cries of four hun- dred injured. Thirty-eight men, women, and children—and one horse, whose hooves were found two blocks away in front of Trinity Church—were killed. Those closest to the wagon were consumed by flames or cut to pieces by metal shrapnel. One hundred and fifty lay badly wounded. Within a minute of the ex- plosion, the Stock Exchange closed. Within an hour, two thousand police officers, Red Cross nurses, and soldiers stationed on Governors Island were at the scene caring for the wounded and protecting the precious metals stored in the suddenly breached Assay Office. The Wall Street bombing remains unsolved nearly a century later, though Italian anarchists—responsible for a wave of similar bombings across America the previous year—are the main sus- pects. In a successful effort to open the Stock Exchange the fol- lowing morning and appear unfazed by the event, bodies and debris—including evidence that might have helped identify the perpetrators—were cleared away before the sun came up. In that same spirit of defiance (though some argue it was more a cost-saving move), J. P. Morgan & Company quickly announced that it would not repair the damaged stones. Though the wooden wall that gave the street its name is long gone, a stone wall on the Corner tells a Wall Street tale worth remem- bering. Please share it with others the next time you’re there. The Aftermath: In an instant both wagon and horse were vaporized, the closest automobile was tossed twenty feel in the air, a streetcar two blocks away was knocked off its tracks, and shattered windows rained down on noontime strollers a quarter mile away. Incredibly, the iconic bronze of George Washington on the steps of the Sub-Treasury suffered not a scratch. Here and There, Then and Now SEPTEMBER 16, 1920 Death Comes Calling at the Corner of Wall and Broad Streets, in Lower Manhattan’s First Major Terrorist Attack