May this story change your life as it did mine. Read up to the end part. You will be so blessed i assure you. The Story of W. C. Freeman I have made a million dollars but I haven’t got a cent. ”While it is embarrassing, yes, humiliating, publicly to confess to an outstanding fault that has made a good deal of a mess of my life today, nevertheless I have decided to make this confession for the good it may do. ”I am going to make a clean breast of how I let slip through my fingers all the money I have earned thus far in my lifetime, which approximates one million dollars. This amount I made through my work in the field of advertising, except a few thousand dollars I earned up to twenty-five years of age by teaching in country schools and by writing news letters to some country weeklies and daily newspapers. ”Maybe one lone million does not seem a lot of money in these days of many millions and even billions; but it is a big sum of money, just the same. If there are any who think to the contrary, let them count a million. I tried to figure out the other night how long it would take to do so. I found I could count an average of one hundred a minute. “On this basis it would take me twenty days of eight hours each, plus six hours and forty minutes on the twenty-first day to do the stunt. I doubt very much if you or I were given an assignment to count one million one-dollar bills, upon the promise that all of them would be ours at the end of that time, that we could complete it. It would probably drive us mad — and a lot of use the money would be to us then, wouldn’t it? ”Let me say at the outset of my story that I do not regret, not for one minute, that I spent ninety per cent of the money I made. To wish any of this ninety per cent back at this time would make me feel that I would have denied much happiness to my family and to many others. “My only regret is that I spent all of my money, and more besides. If I had today the ten per cent I could have saved easily, I would have one hundred thousand dollars safely invested, and no debts. If I had this money I would feel really and truly that I was rich; and I mean just this, for I have never had a desire to accumulate money for money’s sake. ”Those school-teaching and newspaper-correspondence days of mine brought some cares and responsibilities, but they were met optimistically. I married at the age of twenty-one, with the full approval of parents on both sides, who believed thoroughly in the doctrine preached by Henry Ward Beecher, that ‘early marriages are virtuous marriages.’ ”Just one month and one day after I was married my father met a tragic death. He was suffocated by coal gas. Having been an educator all his life — and one of the best — he had not accumulated any money. When he passed out of our family circle it was up to all of us to pull together and get along somehow, which we did. “Apart from the void left in our home by my father’s death (my wife and I and my mother and only sister lived together), we had a joyful life, despite the fact that it was a tight squeeze to make ends meet. “My mother, who was exceptionally talented and resourceful (she had taught school with my father until I was born), decided to open our home to a married couple, old friends of the family. They came to live with us and their board helped to pay expenses. My mother was known far and wide for the wonderful meals she served. Later on, two well-to-do women friends of the family were taken into our home; thus increasing our revenue. “My sister helped very substantially by teaching a kindergarten class, which met in the big living-room of our home; my wife contributed her share to the household by taking charge of the sewing and mending. “Those were very happy days. Nobody in the household was extravagant or had any extravagant tendencies except perhaps myself, for I was always inclined to be free with money. I liked to make gifts to the family and to entertain friends. “When the first baby came into our home — a boy — we all thought heaven had opened its doors to us. My wife’s parents, who took the keenest and deepest interest in our affairs, and who were always ready to lend a helping hand, were equally happy over the coming of their first grandchild. My brother-in-law, much older than my wife, and a bachelor, could not understand at first the joy we all felt; but even he began to strut around like a proud peacock after a while. What a difference a baby makes in a home! “I am injecting these details into my story merely to emphasize how the early days of my life were lived. I had no opportunity to spend much money, and yet I had as much happiness in those days as I have ever had since. The strange thing about it all is that the experience of those days did not teach me the value of money. If anybody ever had a practical lesson to guide him in his future, I certainly had it. “But let me tell you how this early experience affected me. The birth of my son inspired me to do something that would make more money than I was getting at teaching school and in writing for newspapers. I did not want my wife, mother and sister to feel that they would have to continue indefinitely to do their part in sustaining the household. Why should a fellow, big and strong and healthy as I have always been, and with a reasonable amount of ability, be content to remain a spoke in the wheel? Why shouldn’t I be the whole wheel, as far as providing for the family was concerned? “Following my desire to make more money, I took on the selling of books in addition to teaching and writing for newspapers. This earned for me quite a little extra money. Finally, I gave up teaching and concentrated on selling books, and writing for newspapers. “My book-selling took me to Bridgeton, New Jersey. It was here that I got my first real start in my money. I had to be away from home a great deal to do this work, but the sacrifice was worthwhile. I earned enough money in a few weeks to send more money home than I had contributed to the household in any year from my school-teaching and newspaper correspondence. After combing the territory in the Bridgeton zone, I became interested in a newspaper in that city, the Morning Star. It seemed to me that the editor and publisher of this paper needed a helper. I called on him and told him so. He said, ‘Heavens young man, how can I hire you? I am not earning enough money to pay for my own living!’ “‘That’s just it,’ said I. ‘I believe together we can make the Star a success. I’ll tell you what I’ll do: I’ll work for you for one week for one dollar a day. At the end of the week, if I have made good, I’ll expect you to pay me three dollars a day for the second week; and then, if I continue to do well, I’ll expect you to pay me six dollars a day for the third week and will continue from then on until the paper makes enough money to pay me fifty dollars a week.’ “The owner agreed to my proposition. At the end of two months, I was being paid fifty dollars a week which in those days was considered a big salary. I began to feel that I was well on my way toward making money — but all I wanted it for was to make my family more comfortable. Fifty dollars a week was just four times as much as I had made teaching school. “My job on the Star embraced editorial writing (not very brilliant), reporting (just ordinary), the writing and selling of advertisements (fairly successful), proof reading, bill collecting, and so forth. It kept me humping six days a week; but I could stand it, for I was strong and healthy, and, besides, the work was very interesting. I also contributed correspondence to the New York Sun, Philadelphia Record, and the Trenton (N. J.) Times, which brought me in an average of one hundred and fifty dollars a month, for this was a good news territory. “I learned a lesson on the Star which eventually shaped the course of my life. I found out that there is a great deal more money to be earned by selling advertising for newspapers than in writing for them. Advertising brings grist to the mill. “I put over one advertising stunt on the Star — a write-up of the south Jersey oyster industry, paid for by the oyster men — that brought in three thousand dollars cash, which the publisher divided with me fifty-fifty. I had never seen so much money at one time in all my life. Think of it! Fifteen hundred dollars — twenty-five per cent more than I had made in two years of school-teaching and odd tasks. “Did I save this money or any part of it? I did not. What was the use? I could do so much with it to make my wife, boy, mother and sister happy that I let it go far easier than I had made it. But would it not have been a fine thing if I had put this money away for a rainy day? “My work in Bridegton attracted the attention of Sam Hudson, New Jersey correspondent of the Philadelphia Record, who was a shining example of that type of newspaper men whose greatest pleasure in life is doing things for others. “Sam told me that it was time for me to get located in a big city. He thought I had it in me to make good. He said he would get me a job in Philadelphia. He did, and I moved with my wife and baby to Germantown. I was given charge of the advertising department of the Germantown (Philadelphia) Gazette, a weekly newspaper. “At the start I did not make as much money as I had earned in Bridegton, because I had to give up my newspaper correspondence. The news for this section was covered by other correspondents. But very soon I was making twenty-five per cent more money. The Gazette increased its size three times to accommodate its advertising, and each time I received a very substantial increase in salary. “In addition to this, I was given a job to gather social news for the Sunday edition of the Philadelphia Press. Bradford Merrill, managing editor of that newspaper, now a very important New York newspaper executive, assigned me a big territory to cover. This kept me busy every night in the week except Saturdays. I was paid five dollars a column; but I averaged seven columns every Sunday; which made me thirty-five dollars a week extra. “It was more money for me to spend, and I spent it. I did not know anything about budgeting my expenses. I just let it go as it came. I did not have time, or thought I hadn’t, to watch my step in spending. “A year later I was invited to join the advertising staff of the Philadelphia Press, a big opportunity for a young man, for I got wonderful training under the management of William L. McLean, now the owner of the Philadelphia Evening Bulletin. I still retained my job as gatherer of social news — so my income was just about the same as I had been making in Germantown. “But before long my work attracted the attention of James Elverson, Sr., publisher of the old Saturday Night and Golden Days, who had just purchased the Philadelphia Inquirer. I was offered and accepted the advertising management of this newspaper. “This meant a big increase in my income. And soon afterward there came a happy increase in my family, the birth of a daughter. Then I was able to do what I had longed to do since the birth of my son. I got the family together again under one roof — my wife and two babies, my mother and sister. At last I was able to relieve my mother of any cares or responsibilities, and never again did she have either as long as she lived. She died in her eighty-first year, twenty-five years after my father’s death. I shall never forget her last words to me: ‘Will, you have never caused me a moment’s worry since you were born, and I could not have had more than you have given me had I been the Queen of England.’ “I was making at this time four times more money than my father had made as superintendent of public schools in my home town of Phillipsburg, New Jersey. All the money, however, passed out of my pockets as easily as water flows through a sieve. Expenses increased with every increase in my income, which is the habit, I suppose, with most people. There was no sane reason, though, for letting my expenses go beyond my income, which I did. I found myself piling up debts, and from this time on I was never out of debt. I did not worry about my debts, though, for I thought I could pay them off at any time. It never occurred to me — not until fully twenty-five years later — that debt eventually would bring upon me not only great anxiety and unhappiness, but that I would lose friends and credit as well. “But I must pat myself on the back for one thing: I was giving full rein to my big fault — spending money as fast as I made it, often faster; but I never shirked my work. I was always trying to find more things to do, and I always found them. I spent very little time with my family. I would go home to dinner every night and romp with the babies until their bedtime, then I would return to the office and often work. “So the years went by. Another daughter arrived. Presently I wanted my daughters to have a pony and cart, and I wanted my son to have a riding horse. Then I thought I needed a team to take me around with the family, driving them to a closed coupe or an open trap. I got them all. Instead of one horse and a carry-all, or perhaps a team, which would have been sufficient for our needs and something we could have afforded, I had to have a stable, with all that goes with it. This outfit cost me nearly one fourth of my annual income. “Then I took up golf. This was in my forty-first year. I went at my play the same as I went at my work — put my whole heart in it. I learned to play pretty well. My son and elder daughter played with me, and they learned to play well, too. “It was necessary that my younger daughter should spend the winter in the South and summers in the Adirondacks; but instead of her mother going with her alone, I felt it would be fine if the son and other daughter went along with them. This arrangement was carried out. They went to Pinehurst, North Carolina, every winter and to expensive resorts in the Adirondacks or in New Hampshire in the summer. “All this took a great deal of money. My son and elder daughter were keen about golf and spent a lot of money on it. I also disbursed quite a little on golf courses around New York. Between the three of us we won 80 prizes, most of which are now in storage. I sat down one day and calculated what these prizes had cost me. I discovered that each trophy had cost $250.00 or a total of $45,000.00 over a period of fifteen years, an average of $3,000.00 a year. Ridiculous, wasn’t it? “I entertained lavishly at my home. Montclair folks thought I was a millionaire. I frequently invited groups of business men to have a day of golf at the club, and then to have dinner with me in the evening. They would have been satisfied with a plain home dinner, but, no, I must serve them an elaborate affair staged by a famous caterer. These dinners never cost less than ten dollars a plate, which did not include money spent for music while they were dining. Our dining-room comfortably seated twenty people, and it was filled to capacity many times. “It was all very lovely, and I was glad to be their host. In fact, I was very happy over it. I never stopped to think how rapidly I was piling up debts. The day came when they began to bother me a lot. I had entertained so many guests at the golf club one month, paying for luncheons, cigars, and greens fees, that my bill was four hundred and fifty dollars. This attracted the attention of the directors of the club, who were all good friends of mine and very much interested in my welfare. They made it their business to tell me that I was spending entirely too much money, and they wished for my sake that I could check my expenses. “This gave me a bit of a jolt. It made me think seriously long enough to get rid of my horses and traps — at a big sacrifice, of course. I gave up our home and moved back to the city; but I did not leave any unpaid bills in Montclair. I borrowed the money to pay them. It was always easy for me to get all the money I wanted, despite my well known financial short-comings. “Here are two sidelights on my experience during my ‘flaring forties.’ Besides spending money foolishly and perhaps recklessly, I loaned it with equal abandon. In cleaning out my desk at home before moving to the city I looked over a package of due bills, the total of which was over forty thousand dollars. That was money handed out to just anybody who came along. I tore them all up; but I realized that if I had that money in hand I wouldn’t owe a dollar. “One of the prosperous business men I had entertained many times and who in turn had entertained me, said to me: ‘Billy, I’ve got to stop going on outings with you. You spend entirely too much money for me. I can’t keep up with you.’ “Think of that coming from a man who was making more money than I was! It should have struck home, but it didn’t. I went on spending just the same, and foolishly thinking that I was having a good time, and with no thought of the future. This man is now one of the vice presidents of one of New York’s greatest financial institutions, and is reported to be worth many millions of dollars. I should have taken his advice. “In the fall of 1908, after my disastrous experience of six months in another line of business following my resignation from the Hearst organization, I resumed newspaper work as advertising manager of the New York Evening Mail. I had known Henry L. Stoddard, editor and owner, back in the Philadelphia days, when he was political correspondent for the Press. “Despite the fact that I was bothered by debts, I did the best work of my life on the Evening Mail, and made more money during the five years I was associated with it than I had ever made before. Moreover, Mr. Stoddard gave me the privilege of syndicating advertising talks, which ran in his paper for one thousand consecutive publication days, and earned for me more than fifty-five thousand dollars. “Mr. Stoddard was very generous in many other ways, and frequently paid me special sums of money for doing what he considered unusual things in the way of developing business. During this period, I was so deeply in debt that, in order to keep things moving as smoothly as possible, but without retrenching in the slightest way in my expenses, I borrowed money from Peter to pay Paul and from Paul to pay Peter. That item of fifty-five thousand dollars earned from syndicating advertising talks would have more than paid all my debts and left a nice nest egg besides. But all of it was spent as easily as though I hadn’t a care in the world. “In 1915 I went on my own in the advertising business. From that time until the spring of 1922 my fees ran into very big figures. I was still making more money than I ever did, and was spending it just as fast as I made it, until finally my friends got tired of making me loans. “If I had shown the slightest inclination to curb my expenses to the extent of only ten per cent, these wonderful men would have been willing to divide fifty-fifty with me, letting me pay them five per cent of it and saving five per cent. They did not care so much about the return of the money they had loaned me, as that they wanted to see me pull myself together. “The crash in my affairs came five years ago. Two friends who had stood by me loyally became impatient, and told me frankly that I needed a drastic lesson. They gave it to me all right. I was forced into bankruptcy, which nearly broke my heart. I felt that every person I knew was pointing the finger of scorn at me. This was very foolish. While there was comment, it was not at all unfriendly. It was expressive of keen regret that a man who had attained so much prestige in his profession, and had earned so much money, should have allowed himself to get into financial difficulties. “Proud and sensitive to the core I felt the disgrace of bankruptcy so keenly that I decided to go to Florida, where I had once done a special piece of work for a client. It seemed to me to be the coming El Dorado. I figured that maybe I could make sufficient money in a few years so that I could return to New York, not only with a competency but with enough to pay all my debts in full. For a time it looked as though I would realize this ambition; but I was caught in the big real estate collapse. So here I am back in the old town where I once had big earning power and hundreds of friends and well-wishers. It has been a strange experience. “One thing is certain: I have learned my lesson at last. I feel sure that opportunities will come my way to redeem myself, and that my earning power will be restored to me. And when that time comes I know that I shall be able to live as well as I ever did, on forty per cent of my income. Then I shall divide the remaining sixty per cent into two parts, setting aside thirty per cent to pay my creditors and thirty per cent for insurance and savings. “If I allowed myself to feel depressed over my past, or filled my mind with worries, I would not be capable of carrying on the fight to redeem myself. Besides, I would be ungrateful to my Maker for having endowed me with wonderful health all my life. Is there any greater blessing? “I would be ungrateful to the memory of my parents, whose splendid training has kept me anchored pretty safely to moral standards. Slipping from moral moorings is infinitely more serious, in the end, than slipping from the thrift standard. “I would lack appreciation of the encouragement and support I have had in generous measure from hundreds of business men and to many good friends who helped me build a fine reputation in my profession. These memories are the sunshine of my life. And I shall use them to pave the way to my future achievement. “With abundance of health, unfaltering faith, unflagging energy, unceasing optimism, and unbounded confidence that a man can win his fight, even though he commences late in life to realize the kind of fight he must make — is there anything but death to stop him?” Mr. Freeman’s story is the same as that which might be told by thousands of other men who save nothing, with the exception that the amounts of their incomes would vary. The manner of living, the way the money was spent, and why, as told in Mr. Freeman’s narrative, show the way the spender’s mind works. —From The Law of Success by Napoleon Hill
Posted on: Wed, 01 Oct 2014 02:31:05 +0000
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