It was a “Remember where you were when … ?” moment: on Dec. 11, 2008, I was standing under a palm tree in Santa Monica when my cellphone rang.
It was my brother-in-law, a Wall Street big shot who rarely called me. “Are you sitting down?” he asked. I wasn’t. And I didn’t. But I should have, because his next sentence made my knees wobble. “They arrested Bernie Madoff.”
He needn’t have said another word; I knew right away my whole investment was toast. Two weeks earlier I had doubled my stake, having thought of Mr. Madoff’s fund as a safe haven from a nose-diving stock market.… Seguir leyendo »