1929: Inside the Greatest Crash in Wall Street History--and How It Shattered a Nation - 49

A little more than a decade ago, my wife and I went on vacation. Having written about the 2008 financial crisis in Too Big to Fail , I was curious to learn more about what had happened back in 1929. So I bought a half dozen books to read on the trip. I knew the broad strokes but was unfamiliar with many of the underlying forces at work.

Some of the books I read were written nearly a century ago. Others were more recent. All of them offered valuable insights—and yet, when I finished, I found myself wanting to know more: more about the characters, more about the decisions they made, more about how Wall Street and Washington collided during this pivotal moment in history. What began as a passing interest quickly became an obsession, especially as the questions of 1929 began to echo louder in our own time.

A couple of months later, I happened to be on Harvard’s campus to speak to a class and, uncharacteristically, I arrived early. I wandered into Baker Library and asked the archivist if I could look at some of Thomas Lamont’s papers. I was stunned by the wealth of detailed diaries and letters he had kept.

That afternoon in the library, poring over boxes of his archives, convinced me that I might try to do for 1929 what I had done for 2008 in Too Big to Fail —to write a fly-on-the-wall narrative that immerses readers in the moment.

Writing a book often feels like swimming in the ocean by yourself. But I had many life preservers who kept me from drowning over these past eight years.

I owe immense gratitude to the authors and journalists who came before me, uncovering remarkable material that served as my treasure map. (You can find more about their work in the Notes and Sources section.)

So much of my thanks begins with Alix Lerner, who had just completed her PhD in American history at Princeton in 2016. I hardly knew my way around a library when I started. She gave me a tutorial and helped uncover some of the first archival materials about Charles E. Mitchell—including transcripts that allowed me to write the opening scene of this book with a level of granular detail that gave me the confidence to keep going.

Later, Michelle Memran—a spectacular researcher who also worked on Too Big to Fail —helped me locate swaths of archival materials and set up an elaborate database to organize it all.

I took Hugo Lindgren, the former New York Times Magazine editor, to lunch and let him in on the secret of my little project when I was still aimless. He immediately offered smart thoughts on how to approach it. He’s a friend, a terrific sounding board, and a brilliant editor.

As I neared the finish line, I asked my friend Joe Nocera to read the manuscript. He has a magical ability to spot problems—and, more importantly, offer pitch-perfect solutions. Liaquat Ahamed, the Pulitzer Prize–winning author of Lords of Finance , also generously read the manuscript and offered wisdom only someone of his expertise could provide.

Julie Tate, fact-checker extraordinaire, deserves all the praise she receives from every author who works with her—she is unflappable and has eagle eyes. Cameron Peters is a detail-obsessed magician who contributed research and checked and rechecked hundreds of my endnotes and made sure I met my deadlines.

I was fortunate to receive encouragement and wisdom from some of my literary heroes. Walter Isaacson’s friendship and early guidance was priceless. Over lunch, Erik Larson offered a master class in narrative nonfiction writing.

I also need to thank many others who helped along the way—especially some people I never had the chance to meet in person, in part because the pandemic got in the way: Glenna Whitley, an old friend of my wife’s aunt, gave me her time and put me on the right path with some terrific research that was foundational; Matthew Klam, who offered feedback on a very early draft; Avery Erskine, a student at the University of Virginia who searched through Carter Glass’s archives for me when nonstudents weren’t allowed in the library due to COVID; and Patrick Hayes, who dug through William Durant’s papers in Flint, Michigan. I’m also grateful to Gabriel Baumgaertner, Ben Salus, Mia Espino, and Catie Humphreys, whose energy and kindness were infectious; Richard Lambeer, who unexpectedly shared his father’s fascinating memoir from the 1920s; Jared Cohen, for the great little anecdote about Hoover’s vase; and the wonderful librarian at Yale who let me into the stacks when he wasn’t supposed to—you know who you are, and thank you. Tony Marx, president of the New York Public Library, was a mensch, as was his lieutenant, Matthew Kirby.

This voyage would not have happened without Rick Kot, who edited Too Big to Fail and took on this book as his final project before retiring from Viking. The man is a treasure. His dedication and our friendship have meant more to me than I can express. Brian Tart, publisher at Viking, believed in this endeavor from the beginning and put the full muscle of the organization behind it.

Laura Tisdel, who had been Rick’s assistant when Too Big to Fail was published, took the baton after Rick retired and sprinted to the finish. I also must thank Andrea Schulz, Viking’s editor in chief, for her support. And a big thanks to Kim Walker and Laura Stickney, a longtime friend, who both devoted themselves to the British edition. Chelsea Cohen, Tricia Conley, Tess Espinoza, Claire Vaccaro, Meighan Cavanaugh, Dorothy Janick, Mike Brown, Nicole Celli, William Jeffries, Susan VanHecke, Tory Klose, Andy Hafitz, Alicia Cooper, and Laura Ogar in the production department at Viking put the finished book through its paces with fine-tuning and styling notes. The publicity and marketing teams at Viking—Kristina Fazzalaro, Mary Stone, Rebecca Marsh, and Carlos Zayas-Pons—worked around the clock to get the word out.

My literary agent, David McCormick, has been a steady and smart hand throughout. He’s a gem.

I’m deeply grateful to the colleagues I work with every day.

At The New York Times , I owe an enormous thanks to the DealBook team: Michael de la Merced, Bernhard Warner, Sarah Kessler, and Lauren Hirsch—along with Julie Zann and the entire summit crew. I remain profoundly thankful for the support of Joe Kahn, Dean Baquet, Sam Dolnick, Carolyn Ryan, Marc Lacey, Monica Drake, Ellen Pollock, and Meredith Kopit Levien. A special shout-out to two people who shaped the early arc of my journalism career: Glenn Kramon and Stuart Elliott. And I’m especially grateful to A. G. Sulzberger and the entire Sulzberger family.

At CNBC, Squawk Box feels like a Thanksgiving family dinner—just held every morning over breakfast. I’m thankful to my co-hosts, Joe Kernen and Becky Quick, and to our longtime executive producer, Anne Tironi. Jacqueline Corba has been my producer for years, and I’m genuinely indebted to her—as I am to the entire Squawk team of producers and crew who make the show what it is. I’m also grateful for the ongoing trust of KC Sullivan and Mark Lazarus. MSNBC’s Morning Joe crew—Joe Scarborough, Mika Brzezinski, Willie Geist, Jonathan Lemire, and Alex Korson—deserve thanks as well. And my appreciation extends to Brian Roberts, Mike Cavanagh, Adam Miller, Cesar Conde, Libby Leist, and Rebecca Blumenstein.

To my friends and extended family—many of whom endured vacations with me glued to a laptop, weekends spent waiting while I revised chapters, or conversations that always circled back to this book—thank you. There are too many of you to name, and I worry that singling out a few would never do justice to the love and encouragement I’ve felt—not just during the writing of this book but throughout my life.

In the end, it is my family—my wife, Pilar; my children, Henry, Max, and Sydney; my parents, Joan and Larry; my sister, Suzie, her husband, Rob, and their children; and the entire Queen clan—who have been my ultimate support system. You’ve kept me grounded, lifted me up, and borne the greatest brunt of this project. Guys, it’s finally done. I love you more deeply than I could ever find the words to express.