How to Make your Tea Kettle Whistle!

In "Trade Pennies for Ideas!" I illustrated the power of the illustrative story. This story is from my mother's father, Tom Colby. He wrote about a class with Dale Carnegey (later Carnegie) on Oct 13, 1904. 

First, there is a description of his book which you can get by clicking on the cover. Tom's real life illustrative story follows the description.

Mr. Colby is the American Dream personified. Beginning in humble immigrant origins, Colby ascends the ladder of success transforming from the eager forward-thinking young man eager to climb to a man filled with wisdom both about sales and life. 

Tom Colby rises from selling fruit to studying with the best of early America from Carnegie to Edison. His journey is one of faith, self-discovery, and connection. Along the way he meets Rebecca, a young Jewish woman who becomes his most powerful ally in the world of love and business. 

Together with a cast of characters straight out of the history books, they conquer typewriter sales and find the ultimate truth that perpetuates true wealth. As his story progresses key business principles are skillfully interwoven with elements of mysticism, numerology, and Abrahamic faiths.

Thursday, Oct 13, 1904: Speech Class - Heckling

Dale explained over dinner that although he had classes every weeknight, it was a different group each night. Each group attended one day a week for 16 weeks. The class tonight was an advanced lesson, and those in the group would be instructed to interrupt every 15 seconds with a question. The speaker would be expected to respond briefly to the question and continue with the speech. He suggested that I do not speak during this class, as the speaker would need a thick skin. I told Dale I wanted to tell everyone my vision for wealth and insisted on speaking.  He reluctantly agreed. I asked if I could speak first so I could listen more intently to the others. Dale looked up from his food, and slowly agreed.

After the group was seated, Dale called me to the front and I started to talk. I started to talk about how I was going to get wealthy from selling fruit. After 15 seconds, someone shouted out, “Hey kid, didn’t I see you selling bananas on Wall Street today?” Yes, I had been selling bananas, and soon I would sell more fruit on Wall Street than anyone. “So what kid, you still won’t make more than a couple dollars a day. You can’t get rich on that.” I explained how I would hire more boys and make money from their sales. “Who is going to listen to a 14 year old kid?” My eyes started to water, but I stood taller, putting my neck against my collar, and said I could do it. “Kid, you are crazy, that plan will never work.”

Finally, my three minutes were over, and not a single person gave me any encouragement. I was glad I was sitting in the back, and I barely heard any of the other speeches.

For the second speech during the class, Dale asked us to tell everyone what we learned. No interruptions were allowed for this speech, and people were told to show full respect for the speaker. He announced, “The first speaker is…” and paused slightly to give me a chance to back out. I nodded that I wanted to speak, and he called my name.

I went to the front and stood quietly while I carefully looked each person in the eyes the same way Mrs. O’Shaughnessy used to do in my sixth grade class when she was about to chew us out. I noticed some started to squirm uncomfortably in their chairs, and then I started.

“When I lived in Ireland, my father, Jacob, and I would go to the pub in the spring and the farmers were talking about how many potatoes they were going to grow during the year. There were loud arguments about who was going to grow the most, and how they were going to grow them. Sometimes, these arguments were taken outside, and someone came back in with a bloodied lip.”

“My father never said a word while the farmers were arguing, and one day I asked him why. ‘Son,’ he said, ‘I show them, I don’t tell them. At the end of the year, most of them will tell me I was lucky, had better land, more water, or they will give some other excuse. Maybe one will come and ask how I grew so many potatoes, and I will tell them.’”

“I should have learned from my father, and I made a mistake sharing my vision with this group. I should have learned my lesson from my father who only spoke about his plans with my uncle who was the second best potato farmer in our area.”

“In the future, when I have a vision, I will only share it with trusted people who are achieving success with their vision. It is wasted steam from a tea kettle to shout my vision to everyone. If only the tea kettle would keep the steam inside, then it would blow up with success.”

“Never…ever…let anyone tell you that your vision is impossible. I will never…ever…let anyone tell me my vision is impossible because I am busy doing it! From this day forward, I will keep my vision to myself with a couple exceptions. One exception is when the President of the United States asks about my vision.”

“I will share my vision with one other trusted person -- Dale Carnegey. He is already on the road to wealth, and I mean to start a lasting association with him. Each day, I will write him a letter about my day, because he is always helpful and encouraging. Each one of you should find one or two trusted people you can share your vision with, and they can keep you accountable throughout your life. Maybe one day, you can become the best potato farmers like my father and his brother were.”

When I stopped speaking, I again stood silently and looked each person in the eyes, and then I went to my seat.

Dale walked to the front of the room while wiping the corner of his eye with his handkerchief. He said there would be no more speeches tonight as there was no more to be said. He asked each person to write down what they could remember of my speech, and he would pass out a copy at the next class.