Do you remember Cryptsy? That name remains a specter at the digital currency feast. Cryptsy was founded in 2013 and soon became the local watering hole for trading in alternative cryptocurrencies. People showed up with a mishmash of random cryptocurrencies, in the mood to trade, joke around and gamble. Its interface was a mix of a Craigslist listing and a spreadsheet, and its platform wasn’t beloved, but traders used it anyway — sometimes even preferring it — because it listed coins no other exchange could. useful content

At its peak, Cryptsy had literally hundreds of markets — like an absurd number. Whether you wanted Peercoin, Darkcoin, or any of the other countless alts, there was a trader happy to swap. In the frenzy of the market movement, legend has it, the Dogecoin chart was a red EKG on after three strong espressos. It was the Wild West of crypto, a thrilling and lawless place, until things went south.

By early 2016, the problems had arrived. Withdrawals were freezing. Support tickets were neglected and piled up. Rumors of insolvency were increasingly rampant, until the operator, Paul Vernon, accused hackers. The result was a train wreck of lawsuits, inquiries and a big financial black hole. Users were left staring at frozen dashboards while people vented on social media. Total losses amounted to over $9 million of customer funds.

The crazy thing is the warning was all there. A trader once told me what it was like to reach out to Cryptsy’s customer service: You might as well be sending messages in bottles, in that none ever got responded to, unless you count a random photograph of a palm tree. Back then, they trusted exchanges based on hope and fear of missing out — not on the basis of rigorous audits or regulations. The crypto Wild West, needless to say, usually ends up biting.

So why recall this old saga? Because every new exchange scam or sudden collapse recalls Cryptsy’s collapse. The lesson: never assume an unsolicited address change or abrupt hold on withdrawals is okay. Don’t be that moron who leaves his life savings with platforms that say they can give you the world but that can’t handle your cash-out request. The spinning withdrawal button is often an omen that a storm is coming.

I don’t know about you, but I never place my eggs in one anonymous basket. The adage still holds true: if you don’t control the keys, you don’t own the coins. Self-custody may be more work — the equivalent of cooking dinner at home versus ordering in — but the payoff is lasting security. And remember, if something smells fishy, it’s usually more than just a dodgy altcoin. Stay sharp, stay skeptical, don’t let history repeat itself.