Why You Should Break Into Your Piggy Bank

Why You Should Break Into Your Piggy Bank

By Charles W. Allen

The sentimental memories of lessons learned from my childhood mentors are indelibly painted upon the canvas of my psyche to this day.

I’ve previously written about my maternal grandmother’s (“Mama”) presenting me with a piggy bank for my 7th birthday, as well as all the valuable lessons I gleaned from her thoughtful present all those years ago. Now, I’d like to reveal exactly why I reached a point… which compelled me to have to re-think a very important matter (i.e. my original agreement with Mama; to refrain from opening the piggy bank until my 18th birthday). This matter deeply troubled me for so many years. However, she had taught me to always tell the whole truth. “People may not like what you have to say, but they will never trust you if you only tell them what they want to hear,” as she would often tell her cherished grandkids. When the appropriate time arrived, I shared with her just how much I respected her wishes in saving for my future… However, I explained to her that I had discovered a way to save even more… which did not involve her treasured present.

In other words, there’s most certainly such a thing as ‘changing one’s mindset’ and ‘direction’ – with the introduction of new facts, logic and evidence which might clearly refute one’s previously intractable position. She fully understood my decision and thanked me for explaining my rationale in such “an intelligible fashion” (as she too kindly expressed). Please, allow me to share with you all which led to my conversation with Mama about this topic.

By my 10th birthday party, I had amassed a total of $150 from my allowance, gifts and the money earned from my various chores and odd jobs around my neighborhood. My decision tool for distinguishing what to save versus spend was simple; I saved bills - and spent change. I must confess to being amenable to being “fully paid in quarters” – several times when offered as much. After all, I was an adventurous kid with dire essential needs like fishing lures, comic books, camping gadgets, and my next collectible Hot Wheels car. This $150 savings was relatively impressive by early 1970’s standards. In fact, that $150… adjusted for inflation, would be worth over $900 today.

I was quite excited to have my paternal grandparents visiting from Paris, Tennessee for my first “double digits” birthday party. After extinguishing all ten candles with one spirited breath, I quickly turned my attention to relishing the consumption of, at least, my fair share of the cake. It was my favorite ‘red velvet’ variety, baked by my grande dame of a grandmother (“Nana”). Just earlier, she extended to me the mixing bowl… after preparing her delicious cream cheese frosting for purposes of my “cleaning the bowl.” So, after accepting ‘the honors’ of her gesture, I eagerly awaited the scrumptious delight which would quickly follow. Thereafter, I vividly recall sitting across the living room from my grandfather, Francis Marion Allen (“Granddaddy”) … who was comfortably seated in the prized armchair located nearest the fireplace. Granddaddy was a true Southern gentleman from Charleston. As well, he was a senior executive, entrepreneur, bank ‘board’ director, philanthropist, successful investor, writer and extraordinary mentor of a grandfather. His charity knew no boundaries, and he seemed to always exude a joyous spirit which warmed one like a sunbeam on a winter’s day.

“F.M.” (as he was known) had taken careful notice of my melodramatic insertion of his $5 bill present into my piggy bank earlier. He proceeded to inquire about my total accumulated savings which “lazily rested inside” my “Savings Swine”… in summoning his signature oratorical style. I proudly shared with him that my savings had reached $150 after today’s gifts. He immediately shared with me… in his inimitably powerful - but reassuring voice, “Charles, money should never rest dormant. Newton’s Law of Inertia tells us that an object at rest… stays at rest. Let’s get those savings of yours in positive motion so your nest egg can stay in motion.” Combining a physics lesson with an investment lesson - demonstrates just how hyper-efficient of a man he proved to be amongst all who knew him. He taught me, that after factoring for inflation – 100% non-earning cash is simply ‘lazy money’ which is increasingly losing ground.

I possessed a relatively nice (but rough) grasp of the topic about which he inquired… “Charles, how would you like to turn that $150 into $200, without any effort?” Although still possessed by curiosity, my head began to quickly nod in the affirmative. “Grab Wilber over there, and join me in the garage, Charles. We should get started.”

Understand that his naming my piggy bank “Wilber” was no accident. F.M. was an extremely close, life-long friend of, arguably, the most honored writer of our time, E. B. White.  Some of you may recall that Wilber was the pet pig of Fern in E.B.’s epic novel, Charlotte’s Web. Becoming friends with E.B. (or “Andy” as F.M. and his friends referred to him) was no easy feat for Granddaddy. E.B. suffered from general anxiety since childhood. He described himself as “frightened but not unhappy… I lack for nothing except confidence.” F.M.’s friendship with E.B. White means the world to me, as I truly enjoy reading old letters and newspaper clippings about the two of them. As a Christmas gift to my entire family in his later years, Granddaddy presented to us his original 1959 copy of The Elements of Style, or as many of us know it, Strunk & (E.B.) White. Indeed, it was a most generous gesture, and it was used to help my siblings and me with many an English paper. I respectfully request that you refrain from its utilization in reviewing and critiquing this article. J

Back to Wilber the piggy bank. In all attempts to avoid destroying my cherished keepsake, together we drilled an increasingly larger hole in the bank’s underside. By employing one larger drill bit after another in an old-fashioned hand-cranked drill, we finally produced a sufficiently-sized hole for my little fingers to fish out my stash of sleeping bills. Granddaddy found a large cork from a jug that was the approximate size as a quarter so “Wilber” could continue to live on as a piggy bank. We stacked the retrieved bills neatly in one pile before he directed me to “Fold the stack in half… and place it deep in your front pocket, Charles.” To borrow from my Granddaddy’s sense of levity, I suppose that was the first time that I knew what it meant - whenever he referenced “deep pockets”.

Granddaddy exclaimed to my mom and dad, “The Birthday Boy and I are heading out for a brief ride,” before we pulled off in his 1971 Oldsmobile 98 (loved those stylish tail fins). During our drive, I believe that he intentionally remained silent to keep my imagination stirring regarding the unknown destination to which we were bound. Since Granddaddy had been a prominent Board Director of the Paris Bank & Trust near his West Tennessee ‘summer home’, I quickly surmised precisely where we would soon arrive… despite his deliberately ‘taking the long way’. And, yes. My having a pocket full of bills was another apparent clue.

Upon entering the First National Bank of Anniston’s front lobby, Granddaddy asked one of the tellers if Mr. Jackson was available for a quick visit? Without being prompted, Mr. Jackson (the Branch Manager) emerged from his corner office… and graciously greeted Granddaddy and me. He proceeded to invite us to join him in his spacious office. Mr. Jackson immediately explained that he had “made the arrangements that you and I discussed earlier on the phone, F.M.” Through a playful grin, Mr. Jackson asked if I had my $150 in cash? I joyously replied, “Yes Sir!”  I dug deep into my front pocket to retrieve the cash and placed it on the desk before him. 

Upon the completion of the requisite paperwork, I was glowing with enthusiasm to be holding two new, and surprisingly thick, $100 Series E bonds in my hand. I marveled at the dazzling blue ink picture of soldiers at Valley Forge and the magical words, “The United States of America at the Original Maturity Hereof will Pay one hundred dollars.” By age 10, it was certainly the easiest $50 I’d ever earned. 

To my surprise, Mr. Jackson handed me an additional $100 bond. Granddaddy said, “Acceleration depends upon the object's mass, as well as the strength of the external force. Charles, I told you we would put your money in motion, so I felt I should grant you with a token of additional ‘monetary mass’ to speed things along.” This was a bit more of Sir Isaac’s wisdom Granddaddy bestowed to edify my young mind.

On our ride home, Granddaddy explained that the Series E Bond was quite similar to the War Bonds which helped pay for World War II. He further explained that the bonds would be earning interest that would compound semiannually, resulting in their cash value being $100 in ten years. He went on to say, “Those bonds are backed by the full faith and credit of the United States Government.”

I was a bit dejected after learning all the ‘fine print’ until he proclaimed, “Be a good brother, son, grandson, student, and friend to others… and I’ll reward you with a $25 bond on your birthday every year.” He rendered the same form of generous annual gesture to my brother and sister. But they didn’t share the privilege of riding to the bank with Granddaddy. And since neither of them was particularly vigilant about saving money, they didn’t receive the “accelerated” investment with which I felt so blessed to be granted. He was a solid man of his word, and we received our Series E bonds; then - Series EE bonds every year until his passing in 1981.

As fate would have it, I worked throughout my undergraduate and graduate school college years to help cover all related expenses. The extra money certainly came in handy as I continued to cash in Granddaddy’s generosity, starting the early part of my Sophomore year of undergraduate studies. Although I focused on Marketing & Advertising throughout my undergraduate and MBA studies, I largely attribute Granddaddy’s insight and wisdom with ultimately leading me to pursue a long and extensive career in professional financial services – starting in 1986.

Fortunately, like Granddaddy, I possess a relatively sharp memory – for better for worse, eh?  And, I vividly recall our conversation upon returning from our bank excursion. My nascent mind became fascinated with the all-consuming topic of investing. I further inquired with Granddaddy about this topic of multiplying one's savings ‘nest egg’ through savvy investing. "Granddaddy, what about me investing in stocks and bonds like you?" He quickly responded with, "Charles, the last thing you need at your age is to assume any market risk. For now, we're getting you started." My eagerness prevented me from relenting upon his reply. "But, Granddaddy, what about when I’m older… and have a much larger nest egg? How have you been so successful with your investments?" Following a brief pause, Granddaddy slowly lowered his Wall Street Journal, and proceeded to share with me – eyeball to eyeball - the following:

"Charles, the real rewards in investing ‘go to the steady’; not to the pie in the sky-chasing daily 'guessers'. It's less about timing the market, as it is about time in the market. And, as with all things, it’s always important to first seek quality. In stocks and bonds, this equates to companies with rock-solid balance sheets, proven and seasoned management teams, an established pattern of positive earnings growth, a considerably large cache of reserves to assure continuity... and which are likely under-valued at present – relative to the rest of their industry peer group. Much of his explanation sounded like Charlie Brown’s teacher to me (wah wah wah). However, I managed to absorb enough to continue to pursue the subject further… as Granddaddy retired back to the reclined position of the armchair and proceeded with the devouring of his Journal.

Finally, I pushed my point a bit further - to the extent of bordering on being bothersome... This followed his apparent finality of explanation about the topic. "But Granddaddy, what if I someday want to trade stocks to get higher returns?" He slowly lowered his paper, and with apparent trepidation - shared the following gems of wisdom. "Charles, I do not recommend this approach for you. Even many of the pros 'guess wrong' time and time again. Please, never forget - that it's twice as important not to lose assets... than it is to continue chasing more 'pie in the sky'." Granddaddy continued, "But, upon accumulating a sufficient nest egg sum way down the road, and your insistence on pursuing this direction with only a reasonable percentage of your assets - please heed the following, Charles; You should buy when you hear the 'firing of the cannons'. And, you should sell when you hear the 'ringing of the church bells.' "

Granddaddy’s advice was seasoned with decades of investment experience, including his having lived through The Great Depression. It certainly enlightened me as to the importance of protecting and accumulating assets. Lessons that I still employ every day in the well over 30 years since my college days - in helping organizations, families and individuals’ tax-efficiently protect and grow their assets, as well as delivering unique and hidden solutions which deliver to them - ‘bottom-line’ savings. My mantra today is ‘Protect, Grow and Preserve’.  

All too many of us remember too well… the glorious daily economic headlines leading all the way up the massive financial collapse and market crash in 2008. In fact, so many investors continued to chase those previously sunny headlines… only to lose over 60% to (in many cases) 70% in value upon that colossal unraveling. And, upon the 'doom and gloom' headlines which followed, we remember the start of the most extensive decade-long bull market escalation in American history... which created massive unprecedented wealth. Many of those harmed in the crash would have been much better served if they had invested with Granddaddy’s philosophy.

I can’t quite state it with the same sonorous authority as Granddaddy. However, every time I see a piggy bank today, I laughingly hear my inner voice saying - “Savings Swine”, with my facial expression always sporting a big smile. In fact, I can still hear the voices of all my lost loved ones in my mind’s ear. My parents and siblings are no longer with me, but I try my best to embody each of their core positive traits: My sister’s love of all people, and her ability to always make others feel better about themselves. She was also a lover of plants and animals, and an ardent supporter of ASPCA. My brother’s artistic taste and talent, along with his innocence in a guilty world. As well, his genius wit always seemed boundless. I remember his eleventh-grade calculus teacher asking him – “Mr. Allen, have you learned your lessons well?” He instantly replied, “Yes. I repeat my mistakes exactly”. 

And, my mother’s ability (reversing the saying) to keep the many teapots in our tempest from doing great damage. And my father’s understanding that, in the end, it’s being together with family that brings us the most joy. So, in a way - I suppose they are, and will forever be, still attached to my heart, soul, and mind. There's so much I'd love to say to them, but of course... that's not possible today. Or, is it? I'll take my chances. "Thanks to my ‘beloved’ ones who helped light my path!"

Largely, each of us are products of the sum of our experiences, including all the influencing voices of our mentors before us. Valuable lessons learned from them seem to stick to each of us like a 'web' of sorts and help guide our daily decision-making processes. In fact, each of us seem to dangle from a silk thread of our collective web of influences.

As an amateur poet, I would also like to thank Granddaddy for introducing me to the works of his dear friend, E. B. White, like his following apropos poem:

The spider, dropping down from twig,

Unfolds a plan of her devising,

A thin premeditated rig

To use in rising.

And all that journey down through space,

In cool descent and loyal hearted,

She spins a ladder to the place

From where she started.

Thus I, gone forth as spiders do

In spider’s web a truth discerning,

Attach one silken thread to you

For my returning.

E.B. White