Anthony Chan
Bio
Chan Economics LLC, Public Speaker
Chief Global Economist & Public Speaker JPM Chase ('94-'19).
Senior Economist Barclays ('91-'94)
Economist, NY Federal Reserve ('89-'91)
Econ. Prof. (Univ. of Dayton, '86-'89)
Ph.D. Economics
Achievements (1)
Stories (297)
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Fleeting Leaves
Autumn leaves drift down, Beauty fades as time rushes Life, too, feels so brief.
By Anthony ChanExclusive • 4 months ago
The Rules of the Street
The train screeched into the underground station; its brakes shrilled against steel. Joey stepped inside, careful as always. The ride was short—barely two miles—but in the city, distance mattered less than timing. Two miles could feel like a lifetime if you broke the rules.
By Anthony Chan5 months ago in Fiction
When Paradise Pushes Back
For years, Diamond Head overshadowed my visits to Honolulu like an unfinished promise. The volcanic crater stood tall against the Hawaiian sky, a reminder of something I admired but never managed to conquer. Each trip, I would pause at its base, looking up and imagining the view from the top, picturing early risers making their way up its winding trail. Still, I always stayed below, telling myself I wasn’t ready—maybe I wasn’t in shape for such a climb. It had become my secret bucket list challenge, tucked away in the back of my mind like a silent dare.
By Anthony Chan5 months ago in Fiction
A Voice Without a Face
Paul had always battled sleep. Each night, he tossed and turned, his mind a flickering projector of unfinished tasks, missed deadlines, and "what ifs" that marched in endless loops. His bed, rather than a sanctuary, had become a battleground between rest and racing thoughts. On this night, however, something felt different.
By Anthony Chan5 months ago in Fiction
I Know What We Will Not Be Doing Next Summer
Every summer for the past twenty-five years, like clockwork, the four of us—Anton, Jean, Marjorie, and Webster—came together as if the calendar demanded it. Whether it was a lazy picnic under the oaks in Prospect Park, a dinner crawl through old haunts in Manhattan, or a grilled feast in someone’s backyard, summer had a rhythm, and that rhythm pulsed to the beat of our friendship.
By Anthony Chan6 months ago in Fiction
