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So much of what we do in life involves money, and yet the vast majority of these transactions quickly disappear from our memory. What sticks? Here are nine of my most vivid money memories.
1. My older brothers—who are identical twins—and I were regulars at the local community pool, starting when I was age four. Our parents or our au pair would throw pennies into the pool, and we’d dive in and fish them out.
How much were these pennies worth? It seems they were worth far more to Nick and Andrew than to me. I discovered they kept the pennies and had a jar with 35 cents. I was shocked my older brothers had stolen a march on me—and, during those childhood years, I never caught up.
2. Starting around age 10, we spent summers on the Devon coast, in southwest England, where my parents had bought a holiday home. On a Saturday morning, I’d often get up early and walk the half-mile to my grandparents’ house. Why? My Uncle Peter was often staying there for the weekend, and I knew he was always good for 50 pence. My brothers were furious when they found out and complained bitterly to my parents.
3, As a teenager, I had a savings account at the Bank of Baltimore, as did other family members. We’d often head there on a Friday evening, depositing our earnings from babysitting, raking leaves and cutting grass, after which my mother would treat us to a fast-food dinner at Roy Rogers. I loved the clatter of the bank’s computerized typewriter’s keys, as my latest deposit and the interest owed were added to my balance. But it was always the same story: Whatever my balance, my brothers’ hoard would be significantly larger.
4, My first job after graduating college was with Euromoney, a London-based magazine devoted to the international financial markets. After all deductions, I received £90 a week, later increased to £100. After paying rent for my bedsit, I had some £60 each week for food, beer and my London Underground pass, hence my burgeoning credit-card balance.
5. When my first wife and I bought our starter home in 1992, I studied the mortgage payment coupon and noticed a line for extra-principal. I added $10, a sum that grew in subsequent months. I ended up paying off the 30-year mortgage in 13 years.
6. Every penny we had went into buying that first home. What happened next? After the closing, I ran the washing machine in the basement for the first time and, while I was still down there dealing with other issues, the water was expelled from the machine and down the sewer line, only to come flying back into the house. It felt like getting kicked in the stomach. The sewer line was blocked with roots and had to be replaced at a cost we could barely afford.
7. In the early 1990s, I had a hand in editing a Wall Street Journal article that triggered a massive libel suit against the paper. The case went to trial in 1997 in Houston, I had to testify, and we lost bigtime—to the tune of $223 million, the largest libel award in U.S. history. On the day the verdict came down, I had the strange feeling of walking to dinner at a nearby restaurant, knowing news that few others were aware of—remember this was the early days of the internet—but which would be front-page news the next morning. The good news: In 1999, the verdict was thrown out on appeal because the plaintiff withheld evidence.
8. I stayed a few times at the home of someone who had amassed $100,000 of credit-card debt. Creditors called constantly, so no one ever answered the phone. It was a tortuous barrage of noise that I can still remember—and stands as a reminder of the mental agony caused by financial mismanagement.
9. How can someone end up owing so much? Sometimes, it’s misfortune. But sometimes, such spending is a costly emotional outlet, boosting the purchaser’s spirits, but only briefly. An example: Someone I knew went to the supermarket to pick up three items for lunch, but came home with $300 of groceries. This was at the end of a weeklong buying binge. The sad result: $20,000 of credit-card debt.
As I read the comments, it reminds me of some early memories. Here are two:
I collected soda/coke bottles off the street and turned them in at the grocery store in the next block for the deposit. 2 cents each. More for the big ones, if they showed up.
I quit middle school football when my loaned equipment broke and took my friend’s paper route (on the wealthy side of Ferguson Rd.) The first thing I bought was a stylish (banana seat, etc) used bike. It had bad bearings and low gears and I regretted it every time I rode home from the paper route. In buying it I forsook the ugly messenger bike which was the precursor to the mountain bikes such as I bought years later with some of the money I saved by replacing my own roof on my vacation time instead of paying to have it done. (Aside from my desperate longing for style, it would have been the perfect bike for the paper route!)
I smile when I see an article written by “HumbleDollar’s editor”, but I think I like it a lot better when I actually see your name as the author. I would venture a view that other HumbleDollar readers also would still like to see your name on your articles, for as long as possible, certainly as long as you are writing. (And regardless of how much AI you use. This article didn’t have much opportunity for AI, ha ha. AI wouldn’t know how to describe a Christmas Club bank account.)
(Finally, to me, your name on an article is also a bit of a warranty.)
I was very young, yet old enough to remember, being on vacation with the family. We were driving to Florida, and my folks had given me some money for my little wallet. There remained 5 or 6 dollars in it when I lost it. I was devastated by that loss, but it was a good lesson about being careful.
As a kid received an allowance, and would make a buck or two helping neighbors from time to time. I must have known that the bank would pay me some interest, but somehow in my mind I thought it was better to wait and make a larger deposit at a later time versus smaller deposits along the way. I remember my mom correcting my thoughts on saving.
My vinyl habit began long ago. I joined record clubs after carefully analyzing the cost of records after satisfying the minimum commitment, and would withdraw immediately after. And yes, I still own most of those records.
I began work when I was 16, in 1968, with the initial goal of buying my first car. By 1970 I had accumulated $1000, (about $8K in today’s dollars). In order to buy a better car, my dad matched my money. I got a 67 Cougar XR7 that had been driven by the wife of the Mercury dealer. In 1992 I was buying a new pickup truck at the same dealer. The salesman introduced me to the owner, who was the second generation owner of the dealership. I began to describe to him my first car. He interrupted me, saying, “you bought my mom’s green Cougar didn’t you”. I wish I still had that car.
At age 20 I had enough money to make a 20% down payment on my first house. Being 20, my dad had to sign for the mortgage. Does anyone put 20% down on a house any longer?
Prior claims that I never paid interest on anything except a house and a few cars isn’t entirely true. Early in my first marriage there were some credit card balances for a couple years. I hated that debt, and it nearly ended the marriage soon after it began. Keeping the wife’s purchases paid in full every month was a battle that lasted into the 1990s when we divorced. The spousal support I paid my ex-wife was far less than her monthly credit card bills while we were married.
My folks had always been generous with me and my brother. They helped with private school tuition for the grand-kids, and their Christmas presents helped me fund my IRA. The inheritance when they died helped me through some very lean years as I built my business from scratch. Me and the kids would not be where we are today without their loving help.
I remember when I was very young (maybe 6-7) I would get a nickel, dime or quarter for doing some errands around the house.
i would take my change down to the post office with my mom and buy “savings bond stamps”. I can’t remember exactly what the cost, but maybe 25 cents. I would paste them in my “savings bond book”, and once I had $18.75 worth of stamps (I think) the book was full and I would get a $25 savings bond.
i ended up with a stack of savings bonds over the years. When I graduated from college (dead broke) I cashed in my bonds in order to raise cash for a deposit on my first apartment and utilities.
My version of diving for pennies was less athletic than the boys who dove into a pool for pennies. I would dive and scrounge beneath every cushion and between every sofa crack in our house hoping for a flash of silver—a nickel or dime—to buy some Good ’n Plentys or Kit Kats.
My other early memory was getting a bank passbook and a surprise monthly sum from my parents when I turned 14. “What’s this for?” I asked. “This is your allowance, because time for you to learn how to handle money,” I was told. I was earning a bit of money through babysitting and giving piano lessons at that point, so I saved every cent of that allowance, figuring that’s what you were supposed to do with gift money like that.
When my younger siblings started getting their allowances, theirs would be spent by the end of the day. My mother was taken aback by how differently we treated the money, and then asked me why I wasn’t spending my allowance. I had no good answer—I’m sure the Kit Kats were calling to me— but for some reason I resisted the call.
Looking back, I realize that 14 years old IS a good time to learn how to “handle money,” but my mother and father were too distracted to consistently impart any real lessons. Banking and saving were a mystery to us four kids, and for years we all just followed our natures.
That’s why I heartily support Jonathan’s Getting Going on Savings Initiative, because someone has to step in and teach young people all the reasons to earn, save, and invest—and the earlier the better!
My brother and I are opposites as well. He did fine due to public employment and a great pension. I did fine due to me and Chris being good savers. It all worked out.
I agree, Laura. Maybe a saver is born, rather than made, but the Getting Going program can show her how to put those savings to their best use. And maybe someone on the fence will catch the logic and get nudged toward the light side.
You reminded me of another coin diver friend. His family had a small, part-time upholstery business. The pieces came in at random times, and it was a mad scramble to see which of the kids could get to them first to find the money hidden in the crevices.
I started pre 401K era (and soon to be the almighty 401K) with a Fortune 10 company who had 3 choices, Index Fund, Bond Fund and Guaranteed fund. You could only change investment choice 2x a year. In 1979 the prime was around 16%, since I had no idea about interest rates, I plunked my money into the index fund, now 45 years later, nobody seems to care about RMD’s but me.
One of my best childhood memories in the 1950’s, was at age 7, I wanted to earn money like my older brothers. I would shovel coal for my Grandpa into the hopper for the furnace, and then Grandma would give me a dime or a quarter most times. Then Grandma would ask me to paint their fence and earned a whole $1. I always was willing to work, had lots of energy. Next job was to deliver Meat products from my Uncles butcher shop, on Saturdays. I earned about $1.00 for the whole day, but the best part was I got to keep any tips, sometimes totaled up to $3 or $4 or so. My parents encouraged a bank account, and I was fascinated that the bank would pay me money to have money in my account, that was very cool. The day I was 16, the minimum age to have a part time job at a food store, $1.50 per hour. Worked that job through High School, and College, along with full time summer jobs with my part time job and worked my way to graduation as an Electronic Engineer, and happy as a clam earning money until retiring at 78 on 12-31-2024. However, worked from home since 1994 and tapered work hours down to 1 hour a week in 2024.
Retired fully and happy as a clam! Actually happy as a clam since 1994, that is the year I was downsized, and started working for myself, and can only say thanks for that!! Best work situation ever for me.
Working on your own terms is awesome William!
Thanks for sharing those, Jonathan. One memory I have was my first paycheck from my first full time engineering job after college. When it arrived in my bank account, it felt amazing as I never had over $300 during my college years.
I bought a Cannon AE1 camera with my first paycheck as a Physical Therapist in 1980. It game me years of enjoyment.
Power of compounding.
I was underpaid in my first full time job. I also generated a profit for my dept, something completely unanticipated. I wrote a strong letter saying I wanted an out of guidelines raise and presented it to my chairman. He said he was impressed with me and was planning to put me up for early promotion. I asked, “What would I get with a promotion?” He said, “A new title and a 10% raise.” I told him I didn’t want an early promotion, I wanted an immediate out of guidelines raise and then he could put me up for promotion on the standard schedule. He laughed, said it wasn’t coming out of his budget anyhow, gave me the raise and promoted me the next year.
We all have our inflation stories. A few days ago I needed to wait for someone in the town where I grew up. Back when we were in 3rd grade, a friend’s mom would give us $2 and tell us to walk into town to get pizza. If I recall correctly, slices were 25 or 35 cents so there was enough money to get soda too and maybe we went to the Corner Store afterwards. The slice of pizza this week, admittedly a designer slice with grilled eggplant, something they didn’t have back in the day, cost $6.94. I didn’t get a drink.
My most painful & traumatic money memory was when I was about 6 or 7 years old coming home from buying a loft of bread, as I was getting up the stairs, an older boy came from behind me and pulled out a knife, a very small blade but I was so scared that I gave him all that I have in my fist, all three cents worth. I went home to my mom & hugged her and cried. I am 72 y.o. but I can see see that boy’s face in my sleep. I still look around when someone come walking behind me today.
Oh, gosh. I did not grow up in a well-off family—I’d say we were on the bottom rung of middle class—and as a kid, I was always looking for ways to make a buck. At age 7, I ran my own weekly neighborhood newspaper—I sold it door to door and even had subscribers. There were hot dog and lemonade stands, backyard carnivals (sold tickets), and when I was 12, I bought a bunch of mistletoe at Christmas for 25 cents a bunch and re-sold it for 50 cents, door to door. I started babysitting for neighbors at 12 and had an after-school job at the town library when I was in high school. I also always looked on the ground for coins, and if I found a quarter, that was pretty exciting.
It’s kind of funny, looking back on all that, that I went into salaried education positions instead of business!
Dana, you were a very enterprising young lady! I’m especially impressed by the weekly newspaper…by any chance did you still have any of the issues?
I think I might, in a box somewhere! My mom saved them and gave them to me when I married and moved out.
I ran the newspaper for four months before I got tired of it. I’d bop around the neighborhood “reporting” and would add things like silly jokes. My mom typed it up for me and my dad would run it off on the copier at his office (whatever “copier” looked like in the latter half of the 60s), and then I’d go door to door and deliver/sell it (2 cents an issue).
My grandmother wrote a letter to a local radio station about me, and the morning show host called and interviewed me on the air! That was pretty exciting. I guess because I was just 7 (turned 8 while still doing it), people thought it was worth supporting. In hindsight, I guess it was a “tell” that I’d become a writer!
Many of money memories are painful-my parents arguing and my poor decisions. Thankfully I found information in periodicals and newspapers-including Jonathan’s column-somewhere along the way-90s?; my career progressed, I finally made a smart decision and married a great woman and the last 20 years have been great.
Same. My dad was awful with money and my parents had to file bankruptcy, which led to their divorce.
That had to be incredibly hard. A tough way to build resilience in your kids.
I remember saving up my mowing money for my first big purchase: a $20 skateboard made of Lexan.
Ken Cutler brought to mind a few more memories.
My parents were landlords to the duplex they owned next door to our home. The tenants were responsible for the upkeep of the sizable lawn. At age nine, I was hired by one of them to mow his grass with my family’s push mower, for $2.00 per cut. After a few years, I felt like I needed a raise. At the beginning of that season, I told him the new price was 50 cents more, citing the increased price of fuel from the Arab oil crisis (but failing to mention my father bought the gas, not me.) He complained to my father, so I once again pushed the mower in the hot Florida sun for $2.00.
In high school, I had a friend who scoured the parking lots of convenience stores–a frequent stop as we cruised our small town–looking for coins. Like the pay phones and vending machines that Ken visited, it was surprising how much money the parking lots yielded.
My best memory: When my daughter was very young, she played with several years’s worth of my pocket change that was collected in odd containers in her closet. At age four or five, after overhearing my wife and me talking about saving money for retirement, she began bringing out the containers. She was convinced there was enough to buy anything we could possibly need.
One of my early money memories that has stayed with me is when our family went to the Black Hills of South Dakota when I was about 8 years old. I don’t recall how I had earned/been gifted the cash that I now had in my ‘big girl purse’. I left that purse in the bathroom and lost everything. An 8 year old that doesn’t normally carry a purse is not wise! I recall being crushed by the loss. Since this is such a vivid memory it may have contributed to frugality and loss aversion in my future years?
I think my earliest money memory is when the tooth fairy left a quarter under my pillow. Next is my parents taking me to the bank to open a savings account (I had that account for years). Presumably the money going into it came from my allowance. Then there were the budgeting exercises on trips to McDonald’s: we each got a dollar and could buy anything on the menu totalling a dollar or less. “A burger, frys and coke and change back from your dollar” !
Beyond that, I’m grateful for the range of early money earning experiences I had: cutting the lawn ($0.50 a section); subbing on my brother’s paper route; picking mellons for a local farm market (and getting sun stroke); working at Burger King (money my first car), dishwashing, loading trucks, light manufacturing work, etc.
What great memories! One of my early financial memories was sitting with my mother every two weeks on collection day for my newspaper route. I would bring out from my pocket all the cash I had collected, and my ever-patient mother would count it up and reconcile it against what my customers owed. Whatever was left over went to me. Sometimes I came away with ten bucks; sometimes we didn’t have enough to cover what was owed to the newspaper and my mother had to chip in a few bucks of her own. That experience taught me the importance of keeping a good book. Thank you, Mom!
An early money memory is of being a lunch money collector in the fourth grade. A partner and I received and tallied lunch monies daily from classmates who purchased school lunches. Lunches were 25 cents and students often paid with pre-1964 silver quarters. I kept my own small kitty of clad coinage to exchange for the more valuable silver coins. My partner did the same. I later redeemed my treasure at home, as my father would pay a small premium for the coins. I suspect these were the same coins I found decades later clearing out my dad’s things.
When I was in the fifth grade, I worked for a teen-age acquaintance of mine. He hired me to deliver the weekday edition of the Wichita Eagle-Beacon; I’d go pick up the papers at the drop spot every week day, and walk the route on foot for $6 a week. It took a few hours, I could get it done before dark after school. Payday was every Friday; I’d take my $6 cash earnings, stop at the local laundromat, have the dollar-bill changed to quarters, and play the old (mechanical) Eight-Ball pin ball machine. What a blast! I’d usually take the fiver home and save it for a “rainy” day.
A good life lesson about earning, spending and saving for an elementary age kid, I always thought later.
I was a pinball wizard growing up. We would take a quarter each, went to the neighborhood bowling alley, played one machine and learned all of its idiosyncrasies and would play for hours with free games we earned. This is one reason why I have never bought a video game machine. I think it’s called addictive personality”disorder”.
In the mid-80’s, when I was about age 25, I played a neighbor kid’s video game for about an hour. I realized how addictive it was and have never repeated the activity.
Jonathan, I am a big believer in six degrees of separation. If we can count cash register at Roy Rogers, we’re connected by 2 degrees assuming your mother paid for your meals. Marriott owned Roy Rogers way back when. To say they were my biggest customer would be a huge understandment.
Great idea for a post, as I think everyone should write something similar. It would be instructional and cathartic.
For some reason I am surprised to hear that there were Roy Rogers restaurants in England; I used to enjoy them as well. Years ago, during a trip to California (from Las Vegas) with our soon to be ex-wives, my friend Kenny (recall my article He Sold Staples) and I stopped in at the Roy Rogers Museum in Victorville CA. Roy happened to be present that day, driving around on his motorized wheel chair, which I believe he named Trigger 2. Roy was a great host, clearly enjoying interacting with the guests. A couple kids ran in front of his chair, causing him to hit the brakes. Roy just looked up and said, “look at that, they cut me off at the pass”. I still have a picture of me and Kenny flanking Roy on his ride.
Re Roy Rogers restaurants: none in England. That phase of the Clements brothers’ adventures took place in Maryland
Ahhh, thanks David.
Forget the financial stuff here, Jonathan. The key takeaway for me was Roy Rogers! My wife worked at one as a teen in Maryland. She loved working there, interacting with people and, of course, the roast beef sandwiches. Since there are no Roy Rogers any more in Connecticut, we have to stop at least once – no, make that twice – whenever we visit Maryland. She usually even tracks down the manager to thank them for another wonderful experience!
My mother was widowed at the age of 47 with two young children (my brother and me) to raise and no work experience except as a farm wife. Fortunately, she had Social Security survivor benefits. She also took in laundry and cleaned houses. I remember the three of us sitting at the kitchen table on hot summer evenings sorting and rolling pennies. We sorted by year and mint (San Francisco, Philadelphia, Denver), and my mother marked each completed roll with that information plus our names. The goal was to acquire a roll of each type of penny for each of us.
Her thought was that in the future, when she was gone, we would each have a complete collection of 50 pennies from every year from every mint, and this would become quite valuable.
We never did complete this collection, of course. I have eight rolls of coins in faded pink wrappers. Although they have not increased in monetary value, every year the increase in memory value is quite dramatic.
It’s interesting that your first 3 memories involve comparing your situation to others. I can totally relate to that. Even though it appears that I have “enough” to get us to the “end of plan,” I still can’t stop looking around and comparing our situation to others. It’s human nature, I guess.
Thanks for some nice memories Jonathan. We also had a local pool and my brothers and I, with many other kids, dove for pennies. I recall there was one day in the summer where the owners threw in quarters as well. That was a big day.
We had our own version of Uncle Peter. In this case it was my father’s 4 maiden aunts who lived together in Ocean City, NJ. Whenever we duo visit we always made a point of stopping for a visit. they were usually good for a $5 or $10 dollar bill to spend on the boardwalk.
As a young teenager in the late ‘70s, I was a bit desperate to earn some money. I needed cash to spend and also had to save for college as I knew I would eventually be on the hook to buy my textbooks, in accordance with my parents’ stated protocol. A friend of mine told me about Mrs. Fulmer, an elderly widow in my town. He had mowed her lawn the summer before but no longer wanted to do it. I knocked on Mrs. Fulmer’s door and was given the job. Her lawn had multiple gardens to thread through, was rather large, and took me a full two hours to mow using her gas-powered push mower. The rate: $6.00 for each mow, or $3.00 an hour. I always got an extra $1.00 as a tip as well. This was at a time when the minimum wage was $2.65 an hour, so I felt I was doing okay. Mrs. Fulmer would invite me in at the end of the task and serve me some soda. We would sit in her kitchen and talk for about a half hour. I realized that this part of the ritual was important to her; it was part of her social routine. She was a pleasant lady, but I didn’t really know her and neither looked forward to nor dreaded the ritual at the end of the job. The job itself, however, wore on me as time went on. I was used to mowing the lawn at my parents’ house, which took an hour or less to do. Sometimes it would be hot or rainy, and it seemed like I was pushing that darned mower around Mrs. Fulmer’s lawn forever-without the benefit of a Walkman or any other kind of entertainment to soothe my boredom. The next summer I declined to return. I don’t know whether she was able to hire another teenager or if she had to contract with a professional lawn service.
… noticed a line for extra-principal.
Yes! Bought the house in 1989, printed out the complete mortgage amortization schedule (remember dot-matrix printers?), and gleefully tracked skipping down multiple rows each month thanks to the extra payment applied to principal.
Another amortization schedule nerd here as well.
My early money memories are vague with me being irresponsible. I started paying attention reading your WSJ column, Jonathan, and listening to Clark Howard on the radio and Jack Bogle at Vanguard. Lucky me.
I’ve reflected many times about how fortunate I was to be exposed to these folks‘ financial wisdom starting many years ago. Minus this collective sage advice, my (and my family’s) financial situation would be drastically different.
My sincere thanks, Jonathan!
I remember diving for coins, and being young enough that those near the drain were too deep to be comfortable for me. And the thrill I got from going anyway.
Did anyone else check pay phones for forgotten change?
The mention of Roy Rogers reminds me of watching very late night TV before cable. The host tended to throw off an air of knowing a little more than everyone else. Actor Roy Rogers appeared on the show as his usual humble self. The host clearly was amused by the restaurant chain that had licensed Roy’s name and paid to him promote. He asked something like, ” and how many of these little restaurants do they have?” Roy softly said, “We just opened number 500”, and the host’s jaw dropped.
Back around 1963 my dad took a new assignment that required him to be onsite at times before we moved as a family. One time his return flight was delayed and we had to stay at Logan Airport until quite late at night. I remember checking a huge wall of payphones for forgotten change and felt like I’d struck the jackpot. I became a habitual checker of phone booths for change.
Ed, I was famous (to my parents) for checking pay phones for change at every opportunity. It was a surprisingly lucrative habit! Vending machines as well.
One of mine is watching Wall Street Week with Louis Rukeyser on PBS. I would never miss it and I would watch with pen and paper to take notes.
Wall $treet Week holds a special place in my heart as well. Ironic as it may sound, hearing all those esteemed Wall Street wizards left me with an overall impression that the emperor has no clothes. Broad Index funds made even more sense to me after watching the show regularly.
I think some of my most successful investments were from recommendations from the panelists that are still around. My favorite episodes were those of the end of the year where predictions would be made for the next year. Also, Louis Rukeyser was the best. I was in my 20’s and I thought he was a god.
Those year-end episodes were indeed extra special, weren’t they Nick? Mr. Rukeyser had such a smart way of putting everything in perspective. Linda, I wish I could have seen your family dance to the theme music!
Believe it or not, we watched it together every week as a family when our two oldest were little. The youngest, around 4, invented a funny little dance he would do to the music, making us all laugh. We especially loved it when Louis had his dad as a guest. I really treasure that “money memory”!