In the early 1980s, when Philip Poniz moved to New Jersey from Colorado, he needed a well-protected place to stash his collection of rare watches. He hadbeen gathering unusual pieces since he was a teenager in 1960s Poland, fascinated by their intricate mechanics. His hobby became his profession, and by thetime of his relocation, Mr. Poniz was an internationally known expert in the history and restoration of high-end timepieces.

At first, he kept his personal collection in his house, but as it grew, he wanted something more secure. The vault at his neighborhood bank seemed ideal. In1983, he signed a one-page lease agreement with First National State Bank of Edison in Highland Park, N.J., for a safe deposit box.

Over the next few decades, the bank - a squat brick building on a low-rise suburban street - changed hands many times. First National became First Union,which was sold to Wachovia, which was then bought by Wells Fargo. But its vault remained the same. A foot-thick steel door sheltered cabinets filled withhundreds of stacked metal boxes, each protected by two keys. The bank kept one; the customer held the other. Both were required to open a box.

In 1998, Mr. Poniz rented several additional boxes, and stored in them various items related to his work. He separated a batch of personal effects -photographs, coins he had inherited from his grandfather, dozens of watches - into a box labeled 105. Every time he opened it, he saw the glinting accumulationof his life's work.

Then, on April 7, 2014, he lifted the thin metal lid. Box 105 was empty.

To read the complete article, see:
Safe Deposit Boxes Aren't Safe(https://www.nytimes.com/2019/07/19/business/safe-deposit-box-theft.html)