Down down down went the share prices, up packed the workers and out turfed from their houses here, there and everywhere were the mortgagors. People practically stood around in Forrest Chase scratching their heads, blubbering to themselves. Supermarkets were in one place completely overstocked and in others bought-out completely empty, with no idea about the delivery of their next load. Shops everywhere were boarding themselves up, and it would've been fair to say at the time that everyone in the state had lost their job.
I need not remind you that the best occupation to have in such circumstances is easily the petty thief. Empty houses become anyone's houses - and what do the banks care? They're more likely to recoup their money studying the life-cycle of deep sea eels. Money during these times can simultaneously be worth nothing and everything, and so while everyone is distracted about the price of milk and bread and how far they can stretch the next ten dollars, Vanessa and I will pilfer to our heart's content. The only thing that ever really holds its value is a thing itself, in my mind. Hand me a wad of cash on most days and you'll leave me dumbstruck.
Thieves obviously don't think about these things. Burglars and the like are frequently of a particular disposition, and are in part forced into the practice by the hairy hand of the economy. The degree to which either of the two factors form the dominant cause of the activity really comes down to your particular bent on the matter.