Autobiography of Orion Paul Fisher, banker and financier, his "ups and downs" during forty years of business life

Front matter

CopyriglitlJ^..

COPYRKGilT DEPOSIT.

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ORION PAUL FISHER

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the young men and women workers in the mercantile and industrial fields of business, as a means of inspiring them to greater efficiency and encouraging them in their work. 50 percent of the net proceeds from the sale of this book will be set aside in a trust fund to be used exclusively for the help of worthy young people who have some initiative and are striving for the efficiency which will enable them to enter the business for which they are best fitted and to furnish capital to those who have the experience and ability to start and manage a business in a line with which they are familiar. The other 50 percent will also be set aside in a trust fund for other philanthropic work.

The Author

Introduction

My great-grandfather Bough on my mother's side was of English and German descent; he lived on a farm near West Point, Ohio, and was engaged in the milling business. He passed away at the age of eighty-six. My great-grandmother survived himi, passing away at the age of ninety-two. Grandfather and grandmother Bough were in their eighties when they passed out.

Grandfather Bough was one of the ^'forty-niners" who traveled over the plains to California during the gold excitement, having previously conducted a general store at West Point, Ohio, and failed in business. He prospered during his four years' stay in California, came back, went to Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, and paid off his old creditors. He was a man of great principle and honor, believing in making good to people who lost through him, and I have followed in his footsteps, as will be shown in the following experiences relating to the "ups and downs,'' in my business life.

INTRODUCTION

My great-grandfather Paul Fisher with his brother emigrated from Saxony, Germany. They fought in the Revolutionary War after which they settled among the Dutch settlers in Northumberland County, Pennsylvania. My great-grandfather reared a family of eleven children, one of whom was my grandfather Paul, later he emigrated and settled near Calcutta, Ohio, in 1810, where my grandfather married a Miss Margaret Souder of Welsh extraction. Of this union were born six children, three boys and three girls, my father George being the youngest son. My grandfather died at the age of eighty-six, being very active and sturdy and having great physical endurance all his life, his occupation being that of a farmer and stock-raiser.

As was the custom in those days, on coming of age my father received a parental gift of $1000. At this time April 14th, 1857, he and his brother Paul left the home of their boyhood to seek their fortunes in the sunny south, engaging in the

INTRODUCTION

stock-raising business together with an elder brother who had preceded them some years before.

When the Civil War broke out in 1861 my father was pressed into the rebel ranks under protest, being at that time a citizen of the south. He soon obtained a furlough to return to his home and dispose of his property, after which, instead of again joining his regiment, he deserted to return to his northern home. He was captured while crossing the Ozark Mountains on horse back and again pressed into the rebel ranks, in another regiment. Watching his opportunity, he again deserted, this time on foot, keeping close to the brush, he slowly made his way to General Schofield's headquarters in the Union lines, then stationed at Cassville, Missouri, arriving there October 12th, 1861.

At this time being physically incapacitated because of the many hardships endured on his five hundred mile journey by foot, he was excused from military duty and im-mediately returned to his father's

INTRODUCTION

home in Ohio. Recovering his health, he resumed his former occupation as teacher of a country school near Calcutta, Ohio. A few years later his friends requested him to write a history of his experiences while in Texas. This he did in spare moments while teaching school, bringing out a book entitled "The Yankee Conscript or Eighteen Months in Dixie,'' many thousands of copies of which were sold throughout the United States. When living in Texas and while on his way north my father had no thought of writing a book, therefore made no memorandums of dates of occurrences contained therein, but from beginning to end correct dates are given showing a wonderful memory, w^hich was inherited by his son, the writer of the following autobiography.

Preface

My design in presenting the following autobiography is to give the young men and women of today, who are struggling in the mercantile and industrial world, some idea of what they may encounter in attempting to enforce ideas of efficiency upon their associates before the latter are sufficiently developed mentally to receive and appreciate them. It is stated that a small percentage of human kind are efficient, having initiative and willingness to make continued effort to reach the goal in business life, while the majority miake little or no effort, being satisfied to remain on the lower rungs of the ladder that leads to the highest success.

Inheriting my father's unusual memory in recalling events which occurred from his

PREFACE

early childhood down to the date of his death, also having handed down to me from my paternal and maternal grandfathers a high sense of honor and integrity, and great mental and physical endurance, I have been a target for shots of jealousy and hatred from some of my business associates and employees, who have continued to hold me in thought as conceited and egotistical, when in fact my one aim at all times has been to bring out the highest efficiency in business of every kind, at the same time cherishing no malice or hatred toward those holding me erroneously in thought.

Young reader, I say beware, if you belong to the smaller class, and I hope you do, as your road to success will not be an easy one, I advise you to keep your temper at all times and under all circumstances, even when subjected to abuse by your employers and fellow workers. If you peruse this book with an open mind and read between the lines it will be a strong influence in shaping your business career and guid-

PREFACE

ing you safely through many troublesome situations. This autobiography deals solely with facts giving names of towns and cities where certain events transpired, in most cases giving names and characters, also firms and companies, connected with the transactions and incidents related.

In writing my own experiences, which I hope may serve as a guide to my young readers, I found it unavoidable to use the "I" in many instances, but hope the reader will not look upon me as a big "I" thought in consequence, as what I have accomplished, others have done and can do, though I have probably had more varied experiences than most business men. The thought I have tried to bring out in writing my life story is, that the young man or woman should not yield to discouragement, when seeming disasters overtake them, but on the contrary should be optomistic and hopeful, and they will be successful in the end.

I claim to be one of the humblest of men in the world today, were it necessary I would

PREFACE

shine shoes for a living, or follow any respectable occupation; false pride should be overcome as it always proves a detriment, the snobbery displayed by some of the "so-called'' rich, is a curse to the human race.

I do not claim that this book has literary merit or that it is a work of art, as it is written by a plain, self-educated business man, relating the story of his life and giving advice and assistance to young people in the business world, hoping they may profit by its perusal.

Orion Paul Fisher. 625 Bush Street,

San Francisco, California, November 4, 1921.

AUTHOR'S NOTE •

I have stated in Chapter Two of this book that the drawing of maps, writing and arithmetic were my hobbies at school in which I excelled, while English, grammar and spelling never struck me favorably, and in Chapter One that the little girl Bertha Pettit was tutored by her mother and left me behind in the first grade while she was promoted to the second. I wish to add that later she excelled in English, grammar and spelling, v/hile figures which were my delight, were her despair. I also state in Chapter One that as fate decreed, she later became my loving wife. I wish to say therefore that much credit is due her for assisting me in English and spelling and finally criticising mxy manuscript before typewriting same, being greatly interested in seeing that my first literary effort came through as nearly correct as possible for publication.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

In order to keep busy after writing and typing my manuscript, I followed it to the linotype room carrying the galleys to the proof press room and making proofs of same by hand, then reading the proof sheets. After corrections were made on the linotype machine, I made the second proof, bringing same homie in the evening and reading it over again with my wife, before turning the galleys over to the printer.

Now as we have worked together unassisted in a united effort to give the story of my life in as good English as our old style education of 40 years ago, without college training, would permit, therefore as a "home spun" production we place it in the hands of the public for final criticism, begging that its readers make due allowances for any errors or discrepancies discovered in the wording of same.

The Author.

Contents

Chapter Page

I Babyhood and Childhood - - - 21

II Boyhood Days 30

Chapter I. Babyhood And Childhood

At high noon Monday, November 4th, 1867, in Ohioville, Pennsylvania, a little "oil boom'' town, about forty miles southwest of Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, near the Ohio River, I first saw the light of day in this beautiful world, being innocent as to what was in store for me the following fifty-four years, fourteen years of boyhood and the remaining forty years of "ups and downs" in a business career. My father, with my mother and elder sister Texie, then a babe of two years, had moved to this little town from his father's homestead at Calcutta, Ohio. We were located right in the midst of the oil excitement. A disaster occurred to him there, which, had it proved fatal, might have changed my whole career. One day my father was engaged in drawing tubing from one of the oil wells, when a volume of white gaseous substance arose from it which, as it passed over the engine room, ignited, surrounding him with a flame as high as a housetop. He shut his eyes and tumbled out over the tubings, hair, eyebrows, and clothing burned to a crisp; he lay at the point of death for twenty-one days, the skin peeling from his body leaving scars to the day of his death in 1902. But having a strong will and constitution he survived the ordeal. One year later he sold his interest in the oil property, and emigrated with his family to Independence, Kansas, taking up a tract of land consisting of 160 acres on the Verdigris River. On our way there while changing trains at Indianapolis, Indiana, my mother waiting in the depot with my sister and myself, while my father was arranging some matters outside, I, having an investigating turn of mind, as will be shown in the following pages, slipped away from my mother to "do the city." Soon she missed me and began to wail, "0! I have lost my baby-boy." After a prolonged hunt I was found and restored to my grateful mother's arms. As I was then but one year old, this incident was not car-

BABYHOOD AND CHILDHOOD

ried in my memory, but at the age of three I began to remember incidents which occurred in my life, and relate many of them in the following pages, as they stand out clearly before me up to this very day. In many cases I recall dates of incidents as to years, months, and even days, as did my father before me in writing his book, "The Yankee Conscript or Eighteen Months in Dixie."

Upon getting settled in our little prairie home on the frontier, we began life anew in the big undeveloped western country. Six months later my sister Minnie was born. Eighteen months after that at three years of age, I remember as I ran out to the barn one day to meet my father and my uncle, who had come west with us, a rattlesnake ran across my bare feet, rattlesnakes being as plentiful in those days as flies in summer. My uncle seized an axe and chopped off its head which saved me from harm. I had another experience shortly after that which I recall distinctly. My father wishing to go over to the other side of the river, swam across, carrying me on his back. This was great sport for a little chap of my age, as I was the first son and my father and I were great companions, I was nick-named little "Paul'' after my grandfather Fisher, as I, like he, was fearless and daring. In those early days there were many Indians camping below our house on the banks of the river; they were not savage, but the government kept soldiers in a camp nearby to guard the white settlers and quell any disturbance that might arise. As our house stood near their camp, they often came to my mother begging for food. I remember one day two big Indian chiefs with their feather head-gear and tomahawks, came up to the wood pile where my sister Texie and I were playing, and taking us on their knees, began picking at the fuzz on the backs of our hands, at the same time eyeing us intently to see if we would cry and finding we were not afraid they said "brave white children." I imagine my mother was back in the house with her baby girl in her arms, watching that no harm befell us.

BABYHOOD AND CHILDHOOD

The town of Independence across the river from us, was made up mostly of hay huts when we arrived from the east, but grew very rapidly as new settlers came out, reaching about five thousand population during the next three years, the buildings being of a very substantial kind. When marketing, my father often took me over to town with him, and I was very much interested in seeing the Indian "bucks,'' as they were called, riding around on their ponies.

George Washington was not the only "kid'' who cut down a tree with a hatchet. My uncle bought me a little hatchet and with it I cut down a bush, which at that early age looked to me like a good-sized tree.I felt very proud when it fell and, like George, I did not tell a lie about it; I have kept the hatchet to this day.

After spending two years on the frontier, my father breaking sod on the virgin soil, which for some reason was believed to cause malarial fever, my mother, being delicately constituted, contracted the disease. A few months later my father decided to send her and the three children back to her father's home in Lisbon, Ohio, he remaining with my uncle six months longer to harvest the crops and dispose of the farm, selling it at a good price because of rising values in a new country, after which they drove through to Lisbon, Ohio, in a "schooner'' wagon, camping out along the way. I was three and a half years old when I returned east with my mother, and remember very well the day my father took us to the train in the big farm wagon and my sister Texie and I waving our hands from the wagon saying, "good-bye old house, good-bye old barn, good-bye old bridge" and as we crossed the river, waving our hands from the train windows as we rounded a hill in view of the old farm, till it was lost to our sight.

While awaiting my father's return east we lived at our grandfather Henry Bough's home in Lisbon, Ohio. He had some land near the old woolen mill between the race and the creek upon which he raised vegetables; grandmother was accustomed to

BABYHOOD AND CHILDHOOD

sending me down every day with his dinner in a basket. One day several dogs followed me smelling the meat I was carrying, which annoyed me greatly and I went home telling grandmother that I was followed by "dog after dog," and did not wish to carry any more dinners down to grandpa.

Our grandparents lived on West Walnut Street, across the alley from Dr. Fawcett, who had two daughters, Jessie and Sallie, about the ages of Texie and myself. We played together very harmoniously as I preferred girls to boys for playmates. I inherited rapid speech from my father's people, so one day at noon while playing with the Fawcett girls, I spoke rapidly to my sister, saying, "Teckie you stay here, me go see ma got tabic set, ma got tabic set, m.e come back tell 'oo.'' This childish saying has been handed down to my nieces and I have never heard the last of it even to this day.

I remember the day my father returned from the west in his big "schooner" wagon in the fall of 1871, when he drove up to the house and came in, having been away for six months, I felt shy and unacquainted, so I ran up-stairs and stuck my legs through the banisters looking through at him. He soon rented a house in the Matamoras section near the woolen mill and we moved in. He purchased a hack-line running from Lisbon to Wellsville from John Hine, taking over the government contract to carry the mail between these points. Later he leased a coal bank on the Fisher Blocksom farm, one and one-half miles south of Lisbon, where he mined and sold coal in large quantities. A year later when I was about six we moved to East Walnut Street. On the same street a little further down lived a little girl three months and twenty days my junior named Bertha Pettit. On her way to school she passed our house and my mother said I had a naughty habit of throwing stones at her, of which, strange to say, I have no recollection whatever, and sometimes "doubt" the truth of the story. She being tutored by her mother at home was promoted in two weeks from the first

BABYHOOD AND CHILDHOOD

to the second grade while I remained in the first.

After the stone-throwing incident this little girl dropped out of my life for the next fourteen years. Then as fate would have it I met her in Wellsville, Ohio, while visiting her cousins, fell in love with her and we were married three years later, June 4th, 1891, at her home in Lisbon, Ohio. During the next ten years there were born to us five lovely daughters, who are all living and enjoying life today.

But to take up the thread of my story: My teacher in the first grade was a Miss Watt, a very stout lady who was a strict disciplinarian. One day she took a little fellow over her knee and spanked him soundly, threatening to do the same with me if I did not behave, which was sufficient warning after seeing my comrade walloped with such a strong arm. During my first year in this grade my brother Ottis, the baby of the family, was born, September 24th, 1873.

CHAPTER 11.

BOYHOOD DAYS

The following spring my father sold out the hack line, cancelled the coal lease and purchased the old Dr. Marcus farm two miles south of Lisbon on the Hepner Hollow road. This moving to the country was a great event to us children, as we anticipated happy days to follow. Just before moving out to the country, Texie and I had been taken down with the measles and were wrapped in blankets while on the way, to avoid taking cold. The measles did not come out which worried my mother considerably. A Mr. Jason Morgan, calling one day, suggested to my mother that if she would get some sheep pills in a can and fill it with hot water and give it to us to drink, it would bring out the measles. My sister drank this tea but I refused, and she to this day, having a weak stomach, says, it is no wonder after drinking such stuff. My dear young reader, be thankful

J

CHAPTER 11.

BOYHOOD DAYS

The following spring my father sold out the hack line, cancelled the coal lease and purchased the old Dr. Marcus farm two miles south of Lisbon on the Hepner Hollow road. This moving to the country was a great event to us children, as we anticipated happy days to follow. Just before moving out to the country, Texie and I had been taken down with the measles and were wrapped in blankets while on the way, to avoid taking cold. The measles did not come out which worried my mother considerably. A Mr. Jason Morgan, calling one day, suggested to my mother that if she would get some sheep pills in a can and fill it with hot water and give it to us to drink, it would bring out the measles. My sister drank this tea but I refused, and she to this day, having a weak stomach, says, it is no wonder after drinking such stuff. My dear young reader, be thankful you were not born in the days when such foolish old remedies were in vogue.

My father opened up a coal bank and sold coal along with his farming. Six years passed by giving me valuable experience in farm life, which every boy should have in his early years if possible. I attended the Battle Ridge country school with my brother and sisters with the exception of one year in which I was kept at home with weak eyes. The drawing of maps, writing and arithmetic were my hobbies in which I excelled, while grammar and spelling never struck me favorably.

When ten years of age I, like all boys, had the curiosity to try a smoke, so making a pipe from a corncob I filled it with genuine tobacco obtained from som!e of the farm-hands. I went out to feed the pigs, smoking away "as big as life," but by the time I returned to the house, I had had my fill and was "as sick as a dog," lying flat on my back wishing I had never seen a pipe, suffice it to say I never touched the filthy weed since, which has saved me thousands of dollars and I attribute my good health today to total abstinence from it.

My dear young man, if you are addicted to this habit I advise you to give it up as soon as possible, and look ahead forty years figuring up how much cash you would have if not spent for smokes, and better health in the bargain. At the age of twelve I was unusually large and sufficiently strong to assist my father on the farm, plowing, harrowing, and old-style hand-cradling, also digging coal in a thirty-inch vein.

In the fall of 1880, we disposed of the farm, selling off at auction the stock and implements and moved to Wellsville, Ohio, fifteen miles southeast on the Ohio River. I entered the seventh grade of the public school to continue my studies, but I was ambitious to earn a little money after school hours so cast about for something to do.

On the corner of Main and Eighth Streets near my home, stood a large frame hotel, called the Cooper House, run by old Mrs. Cooper, who has since passed to her rev/ard, but in those days was so close and stingy she would "skin a flea." She needed a boy to carry hard coal from the rear end of the yard to the rooms on " the three floors of the hotel I applied for the job and she offered to pay me "18 cents" a week. This was the beginning of my "business career." I was always ambitious for work and the money was a secondary matter. In doing this work it was necessar^^ to carry tv/elve buckets of coal mornings and evenings, including Sundays, up a narrow steep stairway outside the building, also to carry out ashes mornings.

At the end of a f ev/ weeks I saw she was getting the best of the bargain and stiaick for more money. She "very generously" raised me to "25 cents" a v/eek, but added to my already arduous duties, the chopping of wood Saturday afternoons. I was then a "greeny" fresh from the country. The money I received for this work I gave to my mother to help buy necessary clothing, as I did not know in those days what it was to have spending money for "nicknacks." I kept this job until the following spring of 1881, at the close of school. I have never been able to make out why she gave me the odd amount in cents instead of making it at least 20 cents a week and also why I was such an easy mark for the old "tightwad."

Wishing to be employed during the summer and earn more money, I secured a job in the Wellsville pottery wedging clay for a journeyman, who was making plates, cups and saucers. This work consisted of taking rolls of clay from the press, cutting them with a copper wire, half of the roll projecting over the marble slab, then lifting this half high in the air, bringing it down on the other half, continuing this process of cutting and wedging until the clay was of the proper consistency for the molds. For this work I received $2.50 a week, which meant "coming up "some in the industrial world as compared with my former job. Soon after, I took another job up-stairs, running molds for a presser at $3.00 a week, this job furnishing too little outlet for my surplus energy and wishing to earn a higher wage, I accepted another job wheeling coal and saggers to the kilns, the latter being used to hold the crockery while burning. This job paid me $4.50 a week. The hot summer sun with the heat from the kilns was a severe test of my endurance but I "stuck it out^' for several weeks.

During the latter part of this summer two gentlemen by the name of Campbell and Webster came to town and opened a pottery in the old school building in the upper end of town. Having gained some little knowledge of the pottery business, I applied for a job to learn my trade as a pressor, was accepted and began work in a room in the attic, being assigned a set of molds and given a bench, I began making individual creamers. I enjoyed working in the clay, seeing the little creamers take shape and come out of the molds ready to finish for kiln burning.

Becoming so interested in my new work and at the same time learning a trade,^ I decided not to return to school in the fall, my parents needing my financial support. Soon after this I was transferred to the press rooms on the floor below, as my former work had proved very satisfactory. I was then assigned a bench and molds for thirty-six size creamers holding a pint and a half. We were paid by the dozen and I v/as very successful in making them. I turned my account of two weeks, amounting to $16.00, into the office and was complimented by the manager on its neat appearance.

I met with a very disastrous mishap one day, which caused me a good day's pay. One day upon finishing two dozen creamers, I was carrying them to the dry room on a board placed on my shoulder, when, thinking I v/as at the bottom of the stairway, I started for the dry room, but discovered another step, too late to save the creamers.

Now, as I never cried over spilt milk and always made the best of things, I went back to make another lot. This seemed to be an ill-fated pottery as they soon found all the finished ware was covered with little blue spots and vainly trying to ascertain the cause, with a large stock of imperfect ware on hand, they finally went bankrupt. Being as yet an apprentice, I was unable to return to the other pottery and continue my trade.

I was now fourteen years of age and work in my line being scarce, I obtained a job with the Wellsville Plate and Sheet Iron Company, v/heeling cinders from the furnaces with Italian laborers, at 75 cents a day. After working awhile I changed to wheeling scrap iron to the puddling furnace at night on an eight-hour shift from 4 p. m. to midnight, for the same pay, but night work proving very disagreeable, I applied for the job of water boy for which I received $4.50 a week.

Later, hearing that some school chums of mine were employed in the William Jones Terra-Cotta Works and wishing to be with them, I applied for a position there, digging clay, filling the press machine and carrying off sewer pipe from the press. I had a constructive mind and was willing to tackle any kind of work, so was given the job of firing the boiler and running the engine, but having less wisdom than I have today and undertaking one day to cool the cinders under the grate bars with a bucket of water, I was badly burned with steam before I could escape; however, I worked on paying no attention to the burns.