Behind the Scenes at the NYSE Opening Bell® Ceremony

I had occasion yesterday morning to attend the Opening Bell® Ceremony at the New York Stock Exchange. I am sure you have seen it or the Closing Bell® on the news. A bunch of guys (rarely women) in suits stand on a balcony overlooking the trading floor of the stock exchange when trading opens. They clap for a while, then your local news moves on to sports or weather. But for the guys on the balcony, this is about as big a deal as it gets — hence the ®. They are there celebrating some major corporate milestone; in this case, it was being listed on the NYSE.

The company is Provectus Biopharmaceuticals, and I have written press releases for them for a few years off and on. Last Friday, its stock started trading on the NYSE, and yesterday, it got to ring the bell. I’ve known the management of this company for a few years, and I’ve seen them go through the usual ups and downs of business. Getting there is an achievement, and I was flattered to be one of the invitees to their party.

Since this occurred after Sept. 11, 2001, the whole thing starts off on the corner of Broad and Wall streets at the little security tent around 8 a.m. The security chief, Mike from Middle Village, Queens, checks your name against the approved list, and you have to show ID. Then, you get to go inside the building, into the basement where you get the metal detector treatment. At least they let me keep my shoes on.

Once screened for weapons and explosives, you wait in a little lobby while your group assembles. They have a massive video screen that has a welcome sign. “Listed on the Big Stage” is the first panel, the second uses the legal name of the exchange, “NYSE Euronext welcomes” followed by the company’s name and its logo. After a photographer snaps a few shots of the group in front of this welcome sign, it’s up to the sixth-floor boardroom for breakfast.

The boardroom of the New York Stock Exchange is a much nicer place than where I usually have breakfast. The room has a massive table that can seat 40 easily, lush carpet that howls of old money and gilt walls that remind me of Versailles. If I had to use one word to describe it, I would have to refer to a thesaurus to find out the antonym of “Spartan.”

Breakfast consisted of fresh fruit, orange juice, coffee, croissants with jam and marmalade, muffins, bacon, scrambled eggs, potatoes, a small stuffed tomato and asparagus. I knew enough not to ask for Cap’n Crunch, but I got the feeling I wasn’t the only one who thought the spread was a bit excessive. However, the exchange did hold back a little. There were no Bloody Marys or mimosas. Since there was no hallmark on the cutlery, I didn’t bother taking a souvenir.

I make a habit of using the bathroom in places like this. You can learn a lot about an institution by visiting the men’s room (my journalistic curiosity does not extend to visiting the ladies’ room — I don’t need any more grief in my life than I already have). White marble walls and floors, about as many stalls as urinals and far more sinks than at your local bar. Apparently, attendants are unnecessary, although that may be a recent cost-cutting measure — the elevator operators are still around. The toilet paper was unassuming, and the liquid soap faintly scented. The NYSE loo scores on a par with that of a decent four-star hotel.

Returning from the gents’, one of the governors of the exchange makes a presentation to the company’s big shots shortly after 9 a.m. A few words are said about the company and how glad the exchange is to have the firm trade on the NYSE, and the company’s officers say nice things about the exchange. Then a very ornate certificate of listing is handed over.

The next order of business is the bell ringing itself. The group is escorted to the trading floor with some speed as the opening is at 9:30 a.m., and people must be in their places. That is, some of the big wheels stand on the balcony. On TV and in photos, it looks like the kind of balcony Mussolini used to use when he yelled at the Italian people for six hours. In fact, it’s so small that only about half of the invitees can stand on it (maximum occupancy is 16). I remained on the floor, which was fine as I was only a few feet from Jim Cramer of CNBC. Hey, you have your celebrity list, and I have mine.

Seconds before the clock ticks down to 9:30, everyone starts clapping to demonstrate their enthusiasm. Some truly are excited, but most of the guys who are there to trade look like it’s a big inconvenience, and they’d rather start making money than applaud. Everyone is escorted back to the trading floor to watch the stock trade for a few minutes (which is not quite as boring as watching paint dry, but it’s hardly “Must See TV”). Meanwhile, the officers of the company may be interviewed by the press on the floor of the exchange.

Then, it’s back to the boardroom to collect your things, have another cup of coffee, watch the video loop of the ceremony and everyone drifts off.

It’s all very charming, and for those who have worked years to bring an idea to market and a business to the NYSE, it’s a fitting reward. Of course, the NYSE doesn’t do this out of the goodness of its heart — the tab for Opening Bell® is about $100,000. You’d think for that kind of money, they’d serve Cap’n Crunch.

Jeff Myhre is a contributing journalist for TheBlot Magazine.