My Money Memories

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.