America 1929: John F. Kennedy, the Great Writer

When Arthur Kennedy pushed open the door to the editorial office, he was mentally prepared to be met with praise, envy, or cold stares from his colleagues.

But the actual scene was one of subtle, cool tranquility.

The typewriter hummed intermittently, and the air was filled with the smells of ink and coffee grounds, just like any other day. He walked to his seat in the finance section and put down his old briefcase.

Behind the partition opposite, Jimmy poked half his head out, his face bearing a strange expression of wanting to laugh but trying hard to hold it in.

"Hey, our 'great writer' is back."

Jimmy dragged out his words, which had an unpleasant quality to it.

Arthur looked up at him, wondering what was wrong with him, and didn't say anything.

"Have you read the newspaper? Your masterpiece, 'Van Dyke's Stock Market Notes,' is on page three of the financial section, a good spot."

Jimmy said, waving the New York Daily in his hand.

"I just finished reading it. It's quite interesting. But... the sales figures just came out, and it's only slightly higher than usual."

Jimmy stood up, walked around the partition, leaned against Arthur's desk, and lowered his voice.

"Mr. Hearst is probably not very satisfied. Who wants to read stories that dampen the enthusiasm these days? Everyone just wants to hear which stock will go up tomorrow."

Just then, Jason, the editor-in-chief of the financial section, came out of his small office with a report in his hand and happened to pass by. Hearing Jimmy's words, he stopped and his gaze fell on Arthur.

"Kennedy, I've read the article. The writing style is more lively than usual. However, the choice of topic is questionable. With market sentiment soaring, writing something with such subtle satire is inappropriate."

He paused, as if giving guidance:

"Readers want to see opportunities and trends, not this kind of... pessimistic fable. Just take the twenty dollars and don't overthink it."

His words seemed to set the tone for the scene just now.

The editors nearby exchanged glances. The curiosity or jealousy they had felt because Arthur's article had been selected seemed to have been diluted by these words into a sense of relief that it was "nothing special."

Arthur looked up, his face expressionless, and simply nodded: "Understood, Editor-in-Chief."

Jansen seemed dissatisfied with his calm and composed reaction, but he didn't bother to say anything more and turned to leave.

Jimmy wasn't finished yet. As if suddenly remembering something, he leaned closer, lowering his voice even more, with a probing tone:

"Hey Arthur, seriously, your last name is Kennedy...you're not really related to the Kennedy family in Boston, are you?"

"The surname Kennedy isn't uncommon among Irish people; there are quite a few people with the surname Kennedy in Pennsylvania and Massachusetts," Arthur casually explained.

Jimmy, however, looked unconvinced and suddenly said:

"There's a banker in Boston with the same last name."

Arthur paused for a moment.

"Joseph Kennedy."

Jimmy said the name, his eyes fixed on Arthur through his glasses.

"It's become a large company now, with an office on Wall Street."

Arthur shook his head inwardly. This was utterly absurd.

The original owner's family were potato farmers in Pennsylvania, and had absolutely no connection with the Boston financial tycoon.

But judging from Jimmy's expression, he had clearly already imagined a whole drama unfolding in his mind.

A young editor peeked out from behind the partition, his voice carrying a deliberately suppressed excitement:

"You mean Kennedy, the movie director? The one who was once the youngest bank chairman in the United States?"

"The same one."

Jimmy walked over and leaned against the partition next to Arthur, a "I've figured it out" look on his face:

"Arthur, seriously, what's your relationship with that Mr. Kennedy?"

Arthur almost burst out laughing. He held it in and said seriously:

"There are many people in Ireland with the surname Kennedy."

"There are many," Jimmy nodded, "but writing this kind of article at this time..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear: What a coincidence!

The female editor, Margaret, also came over, holding the social edition proof in her hand, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Arthur:

"My cousin at the brokerage firm told me that Mr. Kennedy has been quietly building up short positions recently. Is your article in coordination with him?"

Arthur thought to himself, "These people have such vivid imaginations. I only wrote a satirical story, and they've even come up with family conspiracy theories."

"I just wrote a story," Arthur said.

"The story says he went crazy from stock speculation and ended up sleeping on a park bench," Jimmy chimed in. "And he even had the madman spouting 'healthy economic fundamentals'."

"It's just irony."

"A very timely satire."

Jimmy seemed to have gained support, and his tone became more confident: "And you wrote so quickly yesterday, it was like you were prepared."

"Do you usually have any information channels? Did someone give you instructions?"

Arthur rolled his eyes inwardly: You just want to know if I have any inside information, don't you? You're being so tactful.

The reason I wrote this article so quickly is because I have a cheat code from the system. It has nothing to do with the Kennedy family.

Margaret added softly:

"If it's really a coincidence, then it's too much of a coincidence. One person with the surname Kennedy is writing a bearish article, and another person with the surname Kennedy is shorting the market."

Arthur lowered his head and continued sorting through the letters, too lazy to explain.

He finally understood; these people had already made up a believable story for themselves.

The mysterious Kennedy family: one side writes articles and creates hype in the public eye, while the other profits from short selling behind the scenes. What a financial drama!

The problem is, he didn't even know what Joseph Kennedy looked like.

But in that instant, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind.

Wait a minute... if everyone thinks that way, then this misunderstanding might not be a bad thing.

A little while later, Jimmy came over again, this time holding the newly published Wall Street Journal.

"Look at this."

He unfolded the newspaper and pointed to a small news item.

"Boston financier Joseph Kennedy appeared at the New York Stock Exchange yesterday. According to sources, his recent trading strategy has become more conservative."

"So?" Arthur asked.

"So?" Jimmy looked at him like he was an alien.

"A conservative strategy! What does 'conservative' mean in today's market?"

Arthur thought to himself: This means he's mentally sound.

But he said, "I don't know."

"It means we're bearish!" Jimmy himself revealed the answer.

"And you wrote that article yesterday!"

Margaret popped up again: "The timing matches up. He appeared at the exchange, and you published your article. On the same day."

Arthur thought to himself: I even breathed, does that mean my breathing is connected to the Kennedy family?

But this time he didn't voice his complaints. He just smiled, the kind of "guess what" smile.

Seeing that Arthur wouldn't admit it, some people began to doubt their original judgment.

Is it possible that Arthur Kennedy really has no connection with Joseph Kennedy?

The group whispered among themselves and finally let Arthur go back to his workstation.