Working at both Dad's bank and the Morgan Bank allowed me to earn quite a lot of money. I received $10 a day from Dad and $20 a day from the Morgan Bank. Considering the wage level at the time, where a typical laborer earned just over $1 a day on average, it was a tremendous amount.
However, by banker standards, it wasn't an absurdly huge sum, and since I finished work much faster than several ordinary bankers combined, I was qualified to receive that amount.
Mr. Morgan was initially quite surprised when Father asked for a daily wage of $20.
"I know the work the child does is impressive, but is the work of a six-year-old truly worth that much?"
"I am currently giving Henry $10 a day, but this is a discounted price for his service to his dad. So, naturally, Mr. Morgan, you should pay about double what I pay, shouldn't you? And the work Henry does is worth that wage. How about you hire Henry for just three days first? If you think he's worth the $20 daily wage after hiring him for three days, you can keep him on. If not, you can just consider it as giving pocket money to your daughter-in-law's nephew."
In truth, Dad was giving me $10 a day because he knew I wanted something and he found me cute, so he gave me a lot. But Dad wasn't a fool who would bring up such a story in a negotiation like this.
"You never once suggested I try him out for free to the end. $20 a day for three days is $60. I've never given $60 to a six-year-old, not even my sons or grandsons."
"That's because I'm that confident. And even if we talk like this, if my wife Laura refuses, it's over."
Mr. Morgan eventually agreed, but as Dad said, Mom was not easy to persuade. She snapped at Dad, asking if he intended to ruin the child. Eventually, I insisted that it wasn't hard work and that I needed money, finally gaining Mom's permission.
While granting permission, Mom was curious why I needed money.
"But what do you want to make that you need such big money?"
"I want to make an automobile."
"Automobile? What is that?"
"It's a carriage that goes without a horse. They say they are already making them in Germany and France."
I hurriedly drew a conceptual diagram of Otto's internal combustion engine on paper and explained it to Mom and Dad.
Since Mom and Dad were already somewhat accustomed to my talents, they didn't find it particularly strange that I drew a concept of a car and Otto's engine.
"Is such a thing worth you working for while you are still so young? A child your age should just enjoy playing."
"But I really want to do it."
I hung on Mom's neck and acted like a spoiled child, begging, and eventually, I received Mom's permission not only to work at Mr. Morgan's bank but also to build a car.
Once I got Mom's permission, Dad asked,
"But to make such a thing, you'd need casting technicians and lathe operators. Are you going to learn all that yourself to make it?"
"No, if I learn all that one by one, it will take too long. So I'll outsource such things to a foundry or hire a casting technician. The same goes for the lathe work."
"Outsourcing products one cannot make oneself. Our son Henry is already showing the talent of a businessman."
Neither Dad nor Mom said they would give me the money to build the car. It wasn't because they didn't love or trust me, but according to the mindset of people at the time, unless it was something one did with money they earned themselves, no parent would give such a large sum to a young child like me to do something, no matter how rich they were. Given the circumstances of the time, if I wanted to do something, I had to earn the money myself.
After a month of working at Dad's and Mr. Morgan's banks, I received my salary, totaling $850, which was a considerable sum at the time. Since it wasn't a five-day work week yet and Dad's and Mr. Morgan's banks also worked six days a week, I worked 25 days over the past month. Combined with the $100 I received when I was only working at Dad's bank, I was able to save $850.
Dad asked,
"I looked into what an automobile is, and with that money, you could easily buy two or three of them. Wouldn't it be better to buy one made by someone else with that money rather than making it yourself?"
As Dad said, the cars coming out these days were all extremely early models, practically just rolling carts, so one could be purchased for about $200 or $300. But since my purpose was not to buy a car but to make one, I couldn't follow Dad's advice.
"I can't do that. Because I'm not doing this to buy a car, but to make one."
Dad nodded at my words, and with his help, I purchased a lathe and a significant amount of brass to serve as material. I planned to first make a sample with brass, which is a soft metal, and then once I fully mastered the structure, I would place an order with a foundry.
However, this plan of mine collapsed immediately due to Mom's opposition.
"No way. A child like you using such a dangerous object? Absolutely not as long as my eyes are open, so don't even think about touching this. And you, honey, how could you listen to a child and buy such a dangerous thing?"
As Mom said, a lathe was too dangerous for a child like me to handle. Dad also agreed with Mom and issued an order banning me from approaching the lathe.
"You spoke so confidently that I helped you buy the lathe without knowing it was such a dangerous object. But now that I know how dangerous a lathe is, I cannot let you handle it."
Hearing Mom and Dad's words, I looked at my small, delicate hands and realized the reality that handling a lathe myself was indeed too dangerous. No matter how strong I was or how armed my mind was with future knowledge, it was too dangerous in my parents' eyes, and I couldn't worry them.
Since I couldn't handle the lathe, there was the problem of who would make the items I conceived, but this problem was easily solved.
Our gardener introduced his nephew as a lathe operator, and I decided to hire the gardener's nephew for a monthly salary of $30.
The gardener's nephew, named James Terry, was an 18-year-old young man with a limp. That very point was the reason he couldn't find a proper job despite having lathe skills. One might ask what lathe skills have to do with a limp, but since factories in this era required workers to do other miscellaneous tasks needed in the factory besides their assigned work, a disabled person with a limp was a subject of avoidance.
I promised James Terry that after a year, I would raise his monthly salary to $40. This would be an average salary for this era. Naturally, James Terry's wages were to be paid with my money, not Dad's.
When I hired James Terry, Dad built a wooden workshop at home. Our house originally had a large garden, a stable, and a simple workshop, but since that workshop was for repairing carriages, he built a separate workshop altogether. The workshop was spacious enough for Jimmy (James) to do lathe work and for me to research car manufacturing.
And around the time I hired James Terry, my income increased even more. People who watched me work at Dad's bank and the Morgan Bank spread rumors all over Wall Street about how much I reduced the workload, and several bankers close to Dad or Mr. Morgan inquired if they could hire me too.
In fact, all I did was read documents, organize them in the program in my head, and report them, so the work was finished in about 10 minutes per bank. Since numbers were automatically input just by reading without having to type them by hand, it was actually tens of times faster than Excel work in the 21st century.
Dad and Mom worried whether taking these offers would make a young child work too much, but since having more income was much better for me, I pestered Mom and Dad to accept.
When Mom finally gave permission on the condition of doing just two more, this time Mr. Morgan personally stepped in to negotiate with the bankers who wanted to hire me, getting me a daily wage of $40 each from them.
Mr. Morgan's logic was that since he was paying double what Dad paid, others should pay double what he paid. Eventually, excluding Sundays, I became a person earning a huge sum of $110 a day. Mom said my annual income was higher than Dad's.
From then on, my daily pattern, excluding Sundays, was to wake up in the morning, receive guidance from Professor Thomas Hanson at 9, and finish classes by eating lunch together at 12.
I was old enough to enter school, but I didn't. Dad and Mom agreed that my brain level wasn't suited for what happens in school, and they were also concerned about bullying and discrimination due to my race. Furthermore, aristocrats and wealthy people of this era often didn't send their children to school from the start but hired tutors to educate them.
Even my uncle Jack Morgan and John Pierpont Morgan took interest in my education, and several tutors were recommended and came in, but most of them backed out after a few days saying they didn't have the confidence to teach me.
Eventually, we tried recruiting retired university professors, but they too shook their heads and left after teaching me for a few days.
In the midst of this, an old professor named Thomas Hanson, who had retired from teaching philosophy at a university, decided to continue teaching me. Professor Hanson didn't try to impart separate knowledge to me but limited himself to having conversations with me every day and guiding my reading.
"Henry is a type of child I've never seen in my life, so the only help I can give is to converse daily and designate books to read."
However, receiving his teaching was actually truly helpful to me. The professor pointed out my logical problems while talking with me every day, discussed various academic or current issues, and comprehensively taught me what academic problems had been discussed and developed from the past to the present.
Also, when designating books for me to read, he chose books that were genuinely helpful to me. Judging by the fact that I had never heard his name, Professor Thomas Hanson might not have left a significant mark on the history of philosophy, but he was certainly an extraordinary intellectual himself.
Under Professor Hanson's guidance, I was able to organize the future knowledge in my head and internalize it.
After finishing the class with Professor Hanson and eating lunch, I started making the new engine with James Terry. Of course, it was a continuous process of trial and error since we were challenging ourselves with only the concept of an internal combustion engine, without even a blueprint yet.
I spent time until 3 o'clock like that, and at 3, I took a carriage to work at the Morgan Bank. It takes about 20 minutes by carriage from home to the Morgan Bank. After arriving at the Morgan Bank and working for about 10 minutes, I finish the work and go to the next bank. Finally, I arrive at Dad's bank, finish Dad's work, and leave work together with Dad.
I am working at a total of four banks including the Morgan Bank, but since all work finishes in about an hour, I could arrive home before 5.
Then I worked with James Terry again until 6. At 6, James Terry would also clean up and go to his room provided in our house, and I would eat dinner with Mom and Dad, play, and then go to sleep.
I maintained this pattern until I made my first car.