In the winter of 1928, goes the legend, Joseph Kennedy, the famous American businessman, stopped by a shoeshine stand on the way to his posh Wall Street office. The shoeshine boy worked up a sweat trying to earn a tip, but the humorous Kennedy was going to offer the boy a tip of a different kind.
When the boy swiped the rag across the rich gentleman's shoes for the last time and looked up at him from the dirty sidewalk, Kennedy said: "You've done a fine job, my boy. So, here's a tip for you: Stay in school." And he smiled and chuckled as he walked away pulling up his nubuck leather gloves, walking cane under his armpit, very pleased by the joke.
But the boy was not of the timid kind. "Oh yeah," he yelled back at Kennedy, "well, I got a tip for you too: buy Hindenburg!" Intrigued, Kennedy turned around and walked back. "What did you say?" – "Buy Hindenburg, they are a fine company," said the boy. "How do you know that?" –- "A guy before you said he was gonna buy a bunch of their stocks, that's how." – "I see," said Kennedy. "That's a fine tip. I suppose, I was a little harsh on you earlier," he said, pulling off a glove and reaching in his side pocket for some change. "Here, you've earned it."
Little did Kennedy know that the man whose shoes the clever boy polished before him was not a stockbroker with a hot tip. He was a naval engineer from a base in New Jersey, who, flattered by the kid's attention to his golden-button uniform, told him that for Thanksgiving the navy would float a huge zeppelin in the sky called Hindenburg – but made the boy promise that he would never, never ever get close to it because of the dangerous gas they used to make it fly.
Little did the boy know that Kennedy, a cunning investor, thought to himself: "You know it's time to sell when shoeshine boys give you stock tips. This bull market is over."
When the boy swiped the rag across the rich gentleman's shoes for the last time and looked up at him from the dirty sidewalk, Kennedy said: "You've done a fine job, my boy. So, here's a tip for you: Stay in school." And he smiled and chuckled as he walked away pulling up his nubuck leather gloves, walking cane under his armpit, very pleased by the joke.
But the boy was not of the timid kind. "Oh yeah," he yelled back at Kennedy, "well, I got a tip for you too: buy Hindenburg!" Intrigued, Kennedy turned around and walked back. "What did you say?" – "Buy Hindenburg, they are a fine company," said the boy. "How do you know that?" –- "A guy before you said he was gonna buy a bunch of their stocks, that's how." – "I see," said Kennedy. "That's a fine tip. I suppose, I was a little harsh on you earlier," he said, pulling off a glove and reaching in his side pocket for some change. "Here, you've earned it."
Little did Kennedy know that the man whose shoes the clever boy polished before him was not a stockbroker with a hot tip. He was a naval engineer from a base in New Jersey, who, flattered by the kid's attention to his golden-button uniform, told him that for Thanksgiving the navy would float a huge zeppelin in the sky called Hindenburg – but made the boy promise that he would never, never ever get close to it because of the dangerous gas they used to make it fly.
Little did the boy know that Kennedy, a cunning investor, thought to himself: "You know it's time to sell when shoeshine boys give you stock tips. This bull market is over."
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