A Family of Over-A-Cheevers
“Shut up, Lee!”
Sandro Hernandez
The bell. That’s what sold me.
I had arrived at the Chicago offices of Penserra’s Cheevers Division at around 7:45 in the morning, rivulets of sweat drenching my Tommy Bahama shirt, the result of having navigated a twenty-minute hike on an oppressively muggy morning dodging somnolent Zombies side walking their way to work. I was a touch anxious, born from the precept drilled into me by my mother that you have only one chance to make a first impression. But the energetic vibe in the trading room, born of caffeine and comradeship, was evident the moment I walked through their doors. How could I possibly be nervous in an environment where everyone appears to be in such a good mood? On a Tuesday, no less. In less time than it took to say “Cubs Win” I knew I was going to like it here.
I was greeted by the two dozen-ish members of the Cheevers family like a favorite uncle, and I was treated by the casually-clad bunch as though I had reserved the Presidential Suite at the Four Seasons. Everyone was so darn friendly and helpful. The cynical half of my brain said not to forget that Cheevers, which merged with Penserra in 2017, is still a healthy slice of Wall Street, where unbridled passion for power and riches can make one smile at you while they thrust a dull sword into your belly. But there was something different about these winsome, down-to-earth folks inhabiting a cluttered workspace retrofitted in early-Dot Com and located seven stories above the sassy streets of Chicago. It was an animated look in their eyes, a sparkle in their spirit, and a diligent spring in their steps. On an otherwise damp and dreary day that begged anyone with a sane cell in their head to hit the SNOOZE button and pull the sheets back over your head, the welcoming aura at Cheevers was as obvious as ordering the 22-ounce bone-in ribeye at Swift and Sons steakhouse; they were very happy to be there.
And then, at preciously 8:30:00am, completely unexpected and entirely without warning, a young woman bounded out of her chair and rang an old-school nautical brass bell attached to a wall. One thought immediately sprang into my still-wondering-how-I-got-here head; I’m not in California anymore.
Thirty years of trolling Wall Street trading floors and never once in my life had I heard an actual bell being rung to announce a stock market open. While most stock exchanges trumpet market opens and closes with some semblance of a mechanical bell, those sorry imitations are really nothing more than computerized applause signs, a Pavlovian alarm signaling that it’s time to set your algorithms and tune into Jim Cramer. But at Cheevers, a boutique firm founded by the incomparable Kathleen Cheevers in 1982, the opening bell signals one thing and one thing only; it’s GO TIME, baby.
Then, six and a half hours later, at exactly 3:00:00pm, that same young lady sprang like a lioness protecting her cubs to ring that same nautical brass bell. A smile wider than a Chicago Bears point spread stretched across my face. Where in the name of Denny Engelman has that bell been all my life?
In between ring-a-lings I learned who these exceptional people were and what they did to help Team Penserra push the financial ball forward. It was a typical trading floor romper room, a frenzied symphony of organized chaos, a jumble of mandated bohemianism where both the food and the jokes are questionably delicious. I had sorely missed this waggish environment of supportive camaraderie and needling banter, a locker room mentality where years of personal trust triumphs over the latest state-of-the-art trinket, and where you’re only as good as the overworked and overstressed person sitting next to you. Later than evening, suffering from an extreme case of adrenaline withdrawal and a red meat and wine-induced coma, I crawled into my bed secure in the knowledge that today was my best day at work in years.
I spent the next two weeks immersing myself in the Cheevers culture of mutual respect, admiration and sarcasm. Mixed in, of course, with a few cocktails at Tutto’s, some of the best pizza I’ve had in my life, Julie’s chocolate eclair cake, and passionate debates about which is the best steakhouse in Chicago. My marching orders for this trip were simple; to learn what Cheevers does, and to figure out a way to mix the cultures of Chicago and Orinda. I wanted to learn who these people are, how they arrived at Cheevers, what their jobs were, how they performed them, and what, if anything, could I or anyone else back at our headquarters in California do to help them.
Prior to my trip, I asked the chief Cheever a single question to ascertain the atmosphere of our Chicago hamlet: what the breakdown between fans of the Cubs and White Sox was. The answer I received told me everything; roughly 50/50. That signaled to me that the Cheevers crew was not a bunch of wishy-washy bandwagoners, a gaggle of weak-minded pushovers whose beliefs bent with the winds like a herd of frightened wildebeest. This strong-minded Midwestern assemblage of blizzard-hardened hombres valued loyalty, appreciated commitment and, for no other reason that it was the right thing to do, simply asked the same in return. Respect is an easy currency to print when it’s mutual. The Cheevers folk wanted to come to work, do their jobs, have some laughs, and then go home and do it all over again tomorrow. Rinse and repeat, baby.
In the end, I discovered what I believed to be the reason why so many exceptional folks have worked at Cheevers for over a decade and spent ten-plus hours a day working side-by-side to get their jobs done right; they truly and genuinely liked and enjoyed each other’s company. These high-quality individuals, who created and sustained a well-respected brand recognized throughout the industry for quality execution, superior service and deep personal relationships, are an indispensable asset to the Penserra franchise.
As I prepared to return to the comfortable confines of Penserra’s main office in beautiful downtown Orinda, albeit about ten pounds heavier than when I arrived, I was comforted by the fact my presence may have pushed our two cultures closer together, and that my job as Penserra’s Director of Marketing can somehow create a firmwide esprit de corps, an inclusive campaign I like to call “We Are Penserra.” Towards that end, it’s clear to me that that brass bell on the wall, simple in stature but grand in scope, reflects the special people who are proud to call Cheevers home; honest, fun, solid and real.
Get ready Orinda. I’m bringing home a souvenir.