Strategies Diverge Danny Hakim New York Times Service Wednesday, May 9, 2001
GREENDALE, Wisconsin The Reverend Douglas Schroeder still believes in technology stocks. His father, the Reverend Paul Schroeder, has lost his faith.
On Palm Sunday, after presiding over two services, they debated over lunch in the suburbs of Milwaukee.
A couple of weeks earlier, the elder Mr. Schroeder, 67, sold all of his technology stocks. He had experienced steep losses in the likes of EMC Corp., the data storage company, and Cisco Systems Inc., the networking titan, and used his credit card to pay off loans from his broker that he had used to multiply his bets. He had flourished in a bull market, but had struggled in a bear market.
"How many times do you have to be hit in the head?" he asked. The younger Mr. Schroeder, 38, has also taken his hits. His Ameritrade Inc. account is invested entirely in technology stocks. He lost about half his initial investment, and his account has fallen much further from its peak. He has an equally besieged retirement account, heavy with technology-sector funds.
"Diversify?" the younger Mr. Schroeder mulled the question. "No, I'm going to still stay all tech." After more than a year of market hemorrhaging, two types of individual investors are emerging from the wreckage. Some, like the elder Mr. Schroeder, are fleeing into shelters ignored during the bull market, like bonds and money market funds. He shuffled all his technology investments into old-economy stocks, like Cooper Tire Rubber Co. and K-Mart Corp. For a while, at least.
Others, like his son, never contemplated capitulation, and their numbers are surprising. The movement out of stock mutual funds has been relatively slim compared with previous market droughts. And at the first sign of a rally in April, investors piled back into growth funds, and technology stocks surged despite continually gloomy earnings reports. The forgiving mood of investors indicates there is still a disconnection between investor behavior and reality.
So what keeps the fire burning bright?
For answers, we turned to two men who spend their lives preaching about faith, but who also embraced the great American pastime of the last decade, the stock market. They share the pulpit of Our Shepherd Lutheran Church in Greendale, Wisconsin.
The pastors, in some ways, are peas in a pod. Both agree that the church's money should be mostly in bonds, contribute amply to their church and brim with self-confidence.
In some ways, though, they are opposites, with their investing styles the least of their differences. There is the younger Mr. Schroeder, the lanky exercise enthusiast, and his father, the curmudgeon.
The elder Mr. Schroeder explained his investing philosophy. His first stock pick was Brunswick Corp., a bowling equipment maker, in 1958. He has dabbled in real estate, options and commodities, forays that twice pushed him near bankruptcy.
He said he intended to expire in the pulpit, but he trades as if he is trying to make a bit more before he folds up the tent. His stack of trading records from last year is about two inches (five centimeters) high.
He said he changes his mind with some frequency. In mid-March, he proclaimed he was holding on to Cisco, Tellabs Inc. and his other technology holdings. And, he was still using the maximum amount of leverage, or borrowed money, from Fidelity Investments, his broker.
"I have an extremely high risk level," he said. "I've been extremely close to death six times."
But by the end of March, he said, he had been chilled by yet another steep one-day market drop and by a CNBC report on Cisco.
The elder Mr. Schroeder decided to sit on the sidelines and keep his money in cash for a while. And he did.
For a week.
Then he bought Cooper Tire, Allete, a Minnesota utility, and Christopher Banks Corp., a clothing retailer.
"I don't find it difficult to risk a lot," the elder Mr. Schroeder said. "I believe everything belongs to God. What He gives you, we are stewards of that."
The next day, Monday, April 10, the two prepared for the Easter week.
The day started out bullish on Wall Street. The Nasdaq was up.
The younger Mr. Schroeder trades less than his father, and when he does, it is in increments. He rejects diversification and believes that an investor his age will profit by holding on. "I have a feeling tech isn't going to go away," he said. Today, he is pointing to the ticker symbol JDSU, an entry in a bookkeeping program on his Macintosh computer. Doug has lost 85 percent of his investment in the company, JDS Uniphase Corp. He scans the damaged goods in his Ameritrade account: LSI Logic Corp., Flextronics International, Qualcomm Inc. From its peak, he has lost about half of his investment.
Still, he believes.
His father, the new convert to skepticism, came into the office, and his son began to needle him.
"The news on Pepsi this morning isn't good," the son said. He would never buy an old-fashioned stock like Pepsi Inc., but he knew his father held a large stake in a retirement fund. "Maybe you should sell?" the younger Mr. Schroeder said. His father's thick eyebrows were knit into tight angles. "Pepsi," he said, "is a good company." The elder Mr. Schroeder also has a Macintosh, but he only uses it to keep track of the church's membership.
Instead, he interacts with the market the old-fashioned way: Barron's. Worth. Business Week.
The next week, in mid-April, the younger Mr. Schroeder's tech stocks were rising again and his father could resist his trading urge no longer. He dumped all his old-economy stocks and piled into Nasdaq 100 shares.
"When I saw the Dow holding over 10,000, I thought if it held, we could go further," he said, referring to the market's broad early April rally. At worst, the market was near its bottom, he figured. |