On September 6, 1901, the country was stunned by the news that President William McKinley had been shot. The attack occurred while the President was greeting the public at the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, New York. His assailant was Leon Czolgosz, an American anarchist.
The Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, New York, was designed as a dazzling showcase of engineering and cultural achievements from the nations of the Western Hemisphere . It was meant to be a celebration of the Gilded Age's industrial zenith, but it instead became the tragic stage for its violent end.
The initial news broke just as the New York Stock Exchange (NYSE) was closing on Friday, September 6th. The next morning, when the exchange opened for its half-day session, the business world was paralyzed by dread. Investors, fearing the radical shift in economic policy they believed would follow the President's death, immediately initiated a panic. Stocks plummeted sharply, with the value of NYSE-traded firms dropping by an average of 6.2 percent. This event secured its place in history as the greatest stock market drop associated with a presidential assassination in the nation's history.
The Kingstons, thanks to Michael's earlier warnings of a major disruption, had already begun shifting assets, quietly profiting from the subsequent market panic. They had foreseen the downturn, but only now did the horrifying reason become clear.
John, still holding the paper detailing the panic, looked toward Michael. "Did you anticipate this, boy?"
Michael sighed, shaking his head. "I expected the market downturn, Father. I saw the political disruption coming, but never this. If I had known... I would have done anything to save William McKinley."
He looked down at the paper, the chilling drawing of the William McKinley getting shot burning in his mind. Michael was not new to death; in his life as Dean, he had witnessed many casualties, and as a mercenary at the age of 21, he had taken life himself. Yet, the act was never a pleasant feeling. Even in his fragmented dreams, he felt profound discomfort killing a man, regardless of how abominable that person was. He simply hated the waste of life.
For the next week, the market became a slave to the medical reports from Buffalo. When optimisitc bulletins were released, stocks would rebound, recovering much of the initial loss. This brief hope evaporated in the early hours of Saturday, September 14th, when President McKinley succumbed to his wounds. The NYSE closed immediately in mourning.
Vice President Theodore Roosevelt took the oath of office immediately, recognizing the volatility of the financial landscape. Roosevelt sought to calm the business community by publicly stating his intention to continue McKinley's pro-business policies and keep his cabinet intact.
When the market reopened for trading on Monday, September 16th, his words had their intended effect. Prices increased by an average of 4.9 percent, recovering the majority of the initial loss.
The death of William McKinley shattered the preceding generation's assumptions about the safety of the American presidency and the government's role in national security. This assassination fundamentally changed the American law enforcement landscape.
McKinley was the third U.S. President murdered in just over three decades (following Lincoln and Garfield). The shocking reality that the nation's leader could be felled by a lone radical, coupled with the rising fear of anarchism and radicalism, galvanized Congress. While the U.S. Secret Service (which was, at the time, tasked primarily with combating currency counterfeiting) had offered protection to McKinley, Congress had previously blocked legislation making it mandatory.
The tragedy in Buffalo erased all further debate. The government swiftly moved to mandate the change: the Secret Service was permanently tasked with the protection of the President of the United States.
*****
The shock of President McKinley's death was immediately followed by a demand for swift justice, and the American legal system delivered. The trial of Leon Czolgosz, the assassin, commenced less than two weeks after the President's death, bypassing the usual lengthy delays that characterized major criminal cases.
The trial began on September 23, 1901, in Buffalo, New York. The speed was unprecedented, driven by both the intense national fury and the desire to prevent Czolgosz from becoming a martyr for the anarchist cause. Czolgosz, a confused and isolated young man who claimed to be inspired by anarchist rhetoric, stood mute or offered only disjointed statements during the proceedings. He was defended by former judge Loran L. Lewis and Robert C. Titus, two prominent lawyers appointed by the court.
The defense offered no witnesses and did not challenge the prosecution's facts, as the assassination had occurred in plain sight before hundreds of witnesses. The prosecution, led by District Attorney Thomas Penney, focused on proving premeditation. The case lasted only two days. The jury deliberated for a mere half-hour before returning a verdict of Guilty of murder in the first degree.
Czolgosz was sentenced to death by electrocution.
The execution was carried out with the same brutal efficiency as the trial. Less than two months after he shot the President, on October 29, 1901, Leon Czolgosz was put to death at Auburn Prison in New York.
The state took extreme measures to ensure Czolgosz's memory could not be glorified by his radical comrades. Following the execution, the body was immediately subjected to a bizarre and grim final procedure. The corpse was doused with sulfuric acid and sealed within the coffin at the prison cemetery. The acidic treatment was intended to completely dissolve the body, ensuring that no physical remains could ever be recovered, dug up, or worshipped as relics by anarchists.
Czolgosz was interred in an unmarked grave within the prison grounds. The location was left known only to a few officials. The entire process was a deliberate, calculated effort by the government to erase Leon Czolgosz from history and ensure the absolute failure of his act to inspire further radical violence.
*******
The trial and subsequent swift execution of Leon Czolgosz brought a decisive, if grim, closure to the national crisis. As the shock of the assassination receded, the country, including the Kingston family, slowly returned to the business of life. The markets stabilized under the cautious transition to President Roosevelt.
The company was formally registered on November 11th, 1901, a date chosen as a special twelfth birthday present for Michael.
The Kingstons have started quietly sweeping up smaller, struggling independent telephone companies across New York months ago, along with their existing infrastructure of poles and wires. This provided a vital head start, allowing them to bypass the massive expense and hassle of building everything from scratch.
Their initial subscriber base was quickly established: they owned exchanges with more than 300 subscribers in New York City, and 1,200 subscribers across the rest of New York State. Further west, they acquired exchanges serving an additional 3,000 subscribers in Texas, Chicago, and California. This gave the nascent Kingston Telephone Company an approximate initial base of 4,500 subscribers .
In 1902, the Bell System was the undisputed ruler of American telephony, operating approximately 1.3 million telephones nationwide. The Kingston Telephone Company, with its initial base of roughly 4,500 subscribers, was a mere speck in comparison. It was a market David facing a Gilded Age Goliath.
The Kingstons positioned themselves as the clear alternative to the Bell System by offering different options for equipment and transparent pricing.
The Bell System maintained an iron grip on the industry through its business model: it only leased telephone instruments to its subscribers, ensuring they collected a recurring rental fee on top of the service charge. This policy meant that the customer never truly owned the device in their home or office.
The Kingston Telephone Company challenged this industry status quo by offering consumers a choice, primarily through the Sales Option, which allowed subscribers to purchase and own their own telephone instruments outright. It offered freedom for the consumers. Alternatively, the Kingstons still offered a Lease Option, where subscribers could rent the equipment from the company, much like the Bell System offered, but without the mandatory tie-in.
Crucially, the annual service fee for the line itself was the same regardless of whether the customer purchased or leased the phone.
The Kingston rates were designed to undercut and simplify Bell's complex, monopolistic pricing structure.
For residential service, the Bell System typically charged a flat monthly rate of $5. In contrast, the KTC (Kingston Telephone Company) introduced a geographically tiered structure, offering flat monthly rates ranging from $3 to $4 based on the region, making their service immediately more affordable.
In the business sector, where Bell rates ranged from $200 up to $250 per year, KTC charged $180 to $200 annually depending on the operation's size.
This combination of competitive residential rates and clear business tiers helped attract users frustrated with Bell's high costs and lack of choice.
It was understood that it would take years, if not decades, before the Kingston Telephone Company (KTC) could be mentioned in the same breath as American Telephone and Telegraph (AT&T), but the company had taken its first step towards that direction.