TheDIAMONDLINE

AreYouReadytoClimbAboard?

RichardFenton&AndreaWaltz

Copyright©2015byRichardFenton&AndreaWaltzAllrightsreserved.

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error,pleasecontactthepublisherat:Info@GoForNo.com.

Publishedby

Weinviteyoutovisittheauthorsat:www.GoForNo.com

ThisBookDedicatedtoDr.RussellH.Conwell

AuthoroftheoriginalAcresofDiamondsstoryonwhichthisworkoffictionisbased,andamanfaraheadofhistimeintheunderstandingoftheprinciples

ofsuccess.

Andto...YOU.

Thehard-working,success-boundentrepreneur—hungryforallthebestlifehastooffer—andwillingtodowhatittakestogetit.

Which,ofcourse,includesreading.

ToquoteourfriendAndrewCarnegie—whomyou’llgettoknowbetterinthefollowingpages…

“Alibraryoutranksanyotheronethingacommunitycandotobenefititspeople.Itisanever-failingspringinthedesert.”

FOREWORDBYERICWORRE

Ihavelongbelievedtherearetwowaystoshareknowledgewithpeople.Thefirstistopushfactsandinformationoutatpeople.Thesecondistopullpeopleinthroughtheuseofastory.Infact,expertsclaimthatstoriesare22timesmorememorablethanfactsalone.

Ihavenoreasontodoubtthevalidityofthis,andhavealwaysadmiredwriterswhocanteachmealessonthroughastory.

Tothisday,manyofthebooksthathavehelpedmeinmypersonalgrowthjourneyhavebeendeliveredthroughstories.Mylistoffavoritesincludes:

“TheRichestManinBabylon”byGeorgeClason“TheGreatestSalesmanintheWorld”byOgMandino“TheAlchemist”byPauloCoelho“JonathanLivingstonSeagull”and“Illusions”byRichardBach“TheFountainhead”and“AtlasShrugged”byAynRandAlongwithanumberofothers.

“TheDiamondLine”byRichardFenton&AndreaWaltzisdestinedtotakeitsplaceontheshortlistofclassics.

RichardandAndreafirstcameonmyradarscreenwhenIdiscoveredtheirpersonaldevelopmentmasterpiece,“GoforNo!”Andwhentheyapproachedmetowritetheforewordtothisbook,Ididnothesitatetosayyes.

TheDiamondLineisacleverreimaginingofthemotivationalclassic,AcresofDiamonds,byRussellConwell,firstpublishedasabookin1890.InTheDiamondLine,however,youwillbetakenbacktoanimaginarymomentintimebeforethebookwaswritten,havingthechancetomeetsomeofthegreatesticonsinhistory,includingPTBarnum,AndrewCarnegie,FrederickDouglass,andseveralotherinterestingandenlighteningcharacters.

I'msurewe'veallthoughtaboutbeingabletogobackintimeandmeetsomeofourheroes.

InTheDiamondLineyougetthechancetodoexactlythat!

RussellConwellnotonlybelieveditwaspossibleforanypersontobecomerich—hebelieveditwasaperson’sdutytodoso.Furthermore,Conwellfeltthateachofusisstandinginthemiddleofouracresofdiamonds—thateverythingweneedtoachievesuccessandpersonalwealthisrightbeneathourfeet—ifonlyweareabletorecognizeit.

I,too,believethatsuccessis—andhasalwaysbeen—withinyou.

Andnow,withTheDiamondLine,anothertoolhasbeenplacedinyourhandstohelpbringthatsuccesstothesurfaceinyourlife.

-EricWorreAuthorofGoProandfounderofNetworkMarketingPro

www.networkmarketingpro.com

“YoucanjourneytotheendsoftheEarthinsearchofsuccess,butifyou’relucky,youwilldiscoverhappinessinyourownbackyard.”

–RussellH.Conwell

ContentsTitleCopyrightDedicationForeword

IGSBE

GettingtoUnionStation

Katie’sGift

WakinginAnotherTime

MeetingRussellConwell

“IHaveWrittenNoSuchBook”

HattieMay

Ft.Wayne,Indiana

TellMeAboutYourself

MeetingFlorence

TellingoftheFuture

Cleveland,Ohio

Harrisburg,Pennsylvania

FlorenceGetsHerChance

MyAcreofDiamonds

TheWrinkledOldMan

TheInvitationThatWasn’t

TheGreatestPartyonEarth

AndrewCarnegie

ThePurposeofWealth

MySeatattheTable

VoicesoftheDead

P.T.Barnum’sChallenge

LettingGoOfTheDream

EpilogueSixkeylessonsfromtheDiamondLineAboutTheDiamondLine...

TrackOne:

IGSBE

Itwasoneweekbeforethe2014IGSBEConference,andIwantedtogobadly.Mywife,however,wascompletelyagainstit.

“Iknow,Christopher,”Katiesaid.“Butwedon’thavethemoney.Andbesides,Ican’tgetthetimeoff,”Katieadded,“andyousaidthatifweweregoingtogotoIGSBE,we’dgotogether.”

The16thAnnualIGSBEConferencewasbeingheldinNewYorkCity—IGSBEbeinganabbreviationfortheInternationalGatheringofSmallBusinessEntrepreneurs—andIfeltthatattendingtheeventwouldbegoodforourbusiness.

Iremainedsilent.

“Oncethebusinessgrowsabit,wecandoallsortsofthings,”Katiecontinued,fillingtheconversationalvoidcreatedbymyunwillingnesstoaccepttherealityofthesituation.

“Areyougoingtosaysomething?”Katieasked.

Again,Iremainedsilent.

“Well,I’mgoingtobed,”Katiesaid.“Don’tstayuptoolate,andturnofftheTVwhenyoucome.”

Katiekissedmeontheforeheadandwalkedoff.

“I’msorry.You’reright,”Isaid.“Maybenextyear,huh?”ButKatiedidn’thearme.Shewasalreadygone.Therewasdefinitelyanapologyinmyfuture.

Igrabbedtheremoteandstartedflippingthroughchannels,landingonabiographyaboutthelifeofAppleco-founderSteveJobs.

“So,Steve,whatisthekeytosuccess?”theintervieweronTVasked.

“Thekey?I’mnotsurethere’sasingularkey,”Jobsresponded,“butI’dsaytonotletthenoiseofother’sopinionsdrownoutyourowninnervoiceandtohavethecouragetofollowyourheartandintuition.”

I’mtrying,Steve,Ireallyam.

Katiewasright,ofcourse.Therewasnowayshecouldgettimeoffduringtheschoolyear,andmoneyhadbeenextremelytightsinceI’dmadethedecisiontoquitmyjobtofocusonbuildingthehome-basedbusinesswe’dstartedayearearlier.

WWSD?Iwondered.

Stevewouldcreateanothercoolproductandputanotherdentintheworld—werehestillalive,ofcourse.

IgrabbedmyiPad—typedin“eBayacresofdiamonds”—andpressedenter.Iwascurioustoseehowtheone-hundreddollarbidI’dputonan1890,hardcoverfirsteditionofRussellConwell’sclassic,AcresofDiamonds,wasdoing.

Iscrolleddownandsawthecurrentbid:$285.Iwasoutoftherunning.Wayout.IclosedtheiPadandthoughtaboutheadingofftobed,butdecidedtowatchtheendoftheSteveJobsbiographyfirst.

*

“Ihaveanidea,”IheardKatiesayfromthedoorway.“Whatidea?”

“Well,youcouldgoalone.”

“GotoIGSBEalone?Thisisateambusiness,”Isaid.“Eitherwego,orneitherofusgoes.”

“Okay,Christopher,ifyousayso,”Katiesaid.

Evengoingalonewouldbeexpensive,especiallytheairfareandthepriceofahotelroominNewYork.

“Whatifyoutookthetrain?”Katiesaid,makingherwayovertothesofaandopeningmyiPad.“Lookatthis,”shesaidamomentlater.

SheturnedtheiPadsoIcouldseeit.

Rightatthetopofthepagetherewasanadvertisementthatread:

Katieshotmealook.“Ninety-ninedollarsisreallycheap,Chris.And,youknow,ifyouwerewillingtostayatalessexpensivehotelacrosstheriveroverinNewJersey?”

“It’stotallyuptoyou,”Isaid.

Afewkeystrokeslater,IhadpurchasedaroundtripticketonTheDiamondLine.

“Donotneglectthedayofsmallthings,forlittlebeginningshavebigendings.”

–FlorenceScovelShinn

TrackTwo:

GettingtoUnionStation

KatiepulledourblueToyotaSUVtothecurbattheAmtrakstationnearourhomeinNaperville,Illinois,aboutfortymileswestofdowntownChicago.

“Ican’tbelieveI’mgoingtobeawayfromyouforanentireweek,”Isaid.ThiswouldbethelongestKatieandIhadspentawayfromeachotherinthefiveyearswe’dbeenmarried.“Itfeelsweird.”

“I’vegotthreethingsforyou,”Katiesaidwithasmile.

Thefirstwasapapersackfilledwithsandwichesandsnacks,enoughfoodtogetmeallthewaytoNewYorkwithouthavingtospendacent.

Thesecondwasawrappedgiftaboutthesizeofapaperbackbook.Ihadaprettygoodideawhatitwas.

Thethirdwasastackofenvelopesheldtogetherwitharubberband.“Onlyopenoneenvelopeperday,okay?Andnocheating!”shesaid.

Ileanedoverandkissedher.“Thisisgoingtobethebestinvestmentwe’veevermade,Ipromise.”

“Enjoythetripanddoyourbest,okay?”Katiesaid.“Anddon’twaituntilyougettoNewYorktotalktopeople.Youneverknowwhoyoumightmeetonthetrain.”

*

AfterseveralquickstopswearrivedatChicago’sUnionStationwhereIwouldswitchtrains.

ErectedonthewestsideoftheChicagoRiver,UnionStationwasfirstbuiltin1881andremodeledin1925.TheBeauxArtsgreatroom,withitsterracottawalls,marblefloorbroughtinfromTennessee,andeighteenCorinthiancolumnssoaringupwardtotheone-hundred-footvaultedskylightceiling,wastrulyawe-inspiring.DespitehavinglivedintheChicagoareamyentirelife,thiswasmyfirsttimeinthegrand,historicbuilding.

firsttimeinthegrand,historicbuilding.

Ittookmeafewminutestounderstandhowthestationwasorganized—twenty-fourtrackscominginfromboththenorthandsouth—mostofthemunderground,burieddeepbeneathcitystreetsandskyscrapers.

Icheckedthetravelboardbutwasunabletofindanythingmatchingmyticket,soImademywaytothenearestinformationboothandfoundanelderlymandressedinabluesuitandbowtie.Atleasteighty-fiveyearsold,theman’sskinwasaswrinkledashissuit,whichlookedlikeithadneverbeenpressed.Hewasalonebehindthecounterreadinganewspaper.

“Excuseme,”Isaid.“I’mpassingthroughand—”

“Noyou’renot,”themansaidwithoutlookingup.

“I’msorry,what?”

“Isaid,noonepassesthroughUnionStation,”themanrepeated.“Youcanconnectifyouwantto–meaningtogetoffonetrainandthengetonanother—butyoucan’tpassthrough.Thetrickypartisgettingontherighttrain.Picktherightplatform,yougettowhereyou’regoing.Pickthewrongplatform,though,andwhoknows?”

Theoldmanliftedhisgazeandlookedmeover.“Letmeguess,”themansaid.“You’relookingforTheDiamondLine.”

“Yes,howdidyouknow?”Iasked,surprised.

“Youhavethelook,”themansaid.Thenhepointedacrookedfingerandsaid,“TheDiamondLineleavesfromthefarendofthestation,thatway.Walkallthewaytotheend.Andwhenyouthinkyou’vegoneasfarasyoucango,andyouwanttoturnaround…”

“What?”

“Don’t!”themanshouted.“Justkeepgoing,going,going.Understand?”

“Yeah,Iguess,”Isaid.

“Don’tguess,”themansaid,returningtohispaper.“Justkeepgoing.”

Itwasclearthatourconversationhadreacheditsend.

IdidasIwastold,headingoffinthedirectiontheoldmantoldmetogo,andhewasright.

Itwasalong,longway.

Iwalkedforwhatseemedlikeforever—onandon,wellpastwherethetracks

Iwalkedforwhatseemedlikeforever—onandon,wellpastwherethetracksended—andjustasIbegantothinkI’dgonethewrongwayIrememberedwhattheoldmanhadsaid:

“Whenyouthinkyou’vegoneasfarasyoucango,andyouwanttoturnaround,don’t.Justkeepgoing,going,going.”

SoIkeptgoing.

AndthenIsawit.

Asmallwoodensignthatread:

TheDiamondLine≈BoardsHereDaily≈

Isetmybagdownandtookalookaround.That’swhenIrealizedwhyAmtrakwasofferingsuchagreatdeal.

Apparentlytheyhadto.

Iwastheonlyonethere.

“Whateveryoudo,doitwithallyourmight!Workatit,ifnecessary,earlyandlate,inseasonandoutofseason,notleavingastoneunturned,andneverdeferringforasinglehourthatwhich

canbedonejustaswellnow.”–P.T.Barnum

TrackThree:

Katie’sGift

Iglancedatmywatchforthethirdtime,wonderingwhen—orif—thetrainwouldarrive.IwishedI’dbroughtabooktokeepmeoccupied,andthenrememberedthegiftKatiesaidshe’dpackedinmybag.

Iunzippedmybag,foundthegift,andunwrappedit.

ItwasapaperbackversionoftheRussellConwellclassicAcresofDiamonds.Ihadseenan1890hardcoverfirsteditionofthebookbeingauctionedoneBayseveralweeksearlier.Theauctionstillhadseveraldaystogo,butthepricewasalreadywaybeyondourbudget.

Iopenedthepaperback.Ontheinsidefrontcover,Katiehadwritten:

Christopher—Iplannedtogiveyouthisonyourbirthday,butthoughtyoumightenjoyhavingsomethingtoreadonthetrain.Iknowit’snotthefirst

editionyoureallywanted,butIhopeyoulikeitanyway.–Allmylove…Katie.

SuddenlyIheardavoicecallout,“Allaboard!”

Ilookeduptoseeatrainsittingonthetracksrightinfrontofme.ApparentlyI’dbeensoengrossedinKatie’sgiftIhadn’tevenhearditarrive.

Andthetrainwasmoving!

Igrabbedmybagandracedafterit,jumpingonthemetalstepsjustintime.Ienteredtherailcar,stilloutofbreath,andcouldseeIwouldhavenoproblemfindingaplacetosit.

Iwastheonlypersononthetrain.

Ipickedaspottositandsettledin.Andwithnothingelsetooccupymyattention,IreturnedmyattentiontoAcresofDiamondsandbeganreading…

WhengoingdowntheTigrisandEuphratesriversmanyyearsagowithapartyofEnglishtravelersIfoundmyselfunderthedirectionofanoldArabguidewhomwehiredupatBagdad,andIhaveoftenthoughthowthatguideresembledourbarbersincertainmentalcharacteristics.Hethoughtthatitwasnotonlyhisdutytoguideusdownthoserivers,anddowhathewaspaidfordoing,butalsotoentertainuswithstoriescuriousandweird,

ancientandmodern,strangeandfamiliar.ManyofthemIhaveforgotten,andIamgladIhave,butthereisoneIshallneverforget.

Theoldguidewasleadingmycamelbyitshalteralongthebanksofthoseancientrivers,andhetoldmestoryafterstoryuntilIgrewwearyofhisstory-tellingandceasedtolisten.IhaveneverbeenirritatedwiththatguidewhenhelosthistemperasIceasedlistening.ButIrememberthathetookoffhisTurkishcapandswungitinacircletogetmyattention.Icouldseeitthroughthecornerofmyeye,butIdeterminednottolookstraightathimforfearhewouldtellanotherstory.ButIdidfinallylook,andassoonasIdidhewentrightintoanotherstory.

Saidhe,“IwilltellyouastorynowwhichIreserveformyparticularfriends”…andwhenheemphasizedthewords“particularfriends,”Ilistened…andIhaveeverbeengladIdid!

Ifeltmyeyesgettingtiredandloweredthebook.ButwhenIdid,IwasshockedtoseeIwasnolongeralone.Infact,thepassengercarwasentirelypackedwithpeople!Hadthetrainmadeastopandpickedupmorepeople?HadIbeensoengrossedinthebookIhadn’tnoticed?

Ireachedtoturndownthecornerofthepagetomarkmyplace,butbeforeIcould,ahandgrabbedmine.Ilookeduptoseeitwastheconductor,lookingdownonmelikeasternfather.

“Usethis,”theconductorsnarled,handingmeapurplesatinbookmark.“Oneneverfoldsthecornersofapage,notofatrueclassic,andcertainlynotinacivilizedsociety.”

“It’sjustapaperback,”Isaid.

“Oh,itis,isit?”theconductorsaid.Then,withoutwaitingforareply,theconductorcontinueduptheaisle,askingeachpassengerfortheirticketashewentalong.

Oddly,heneveraskedformine.

IplacedthebookmarkinmycopyofAcresofDiamonds,thenpulledoutmycellphonetocallKatie—onlytodiscovertherewasnoreception.

Iwouldhavetocallherlater.

Iclosedmyeyes,thebrightafternoonsunflashingthroughthewindowsoftherailcarlikeahypnoticstrobelight.Beforelong,Idriftedofftosleep,thepaperbackcopyofRussellConwell’sAcresofDiamondssittinginmylap.

“AsIgrowolder,Ipaylessattentiontowhatmensay.Ijustwatchwhattheydo.”

–AndrewCarnegie

TrackFour:

WakinginAnotherTime

ItseemedlikeonlymomentshadpassedwhentheAcresofDiamondsbookfellfrommylapandhitmyfoot,wakingme.

WhenIreacheddowntoretrievethebook,Iimmediatelynoticedthescuffedgraylinoleumfloorhadbeenreplacedwithhighlypolishedwood.

Icouldalsotellitwasnighttime.CouldIhaveslepttheentireday?

Isatupslowlyandlookedaround.Whatinthe…?

Itwasn’tjustthefloorthathadchanged.Everythingwasdifferent.Thetraincarwasold,likesomethingoutofamoviefromtheturnofthelastcentury—yetitlookedbrandnew.Shinybrassfittingsandpolishedoakgleamedspotlessly,asifthetrainhadjustcomeoffthefactoryassemblylineorundergonearestorationbytheSmithsonian.

Iturnedtolookatthemanseatedonmyleftandfoundmyselfdoingadouble-takewhenIsawtheBowlerhatonhisheadandgianthandle-barmustacheonhisface.Hewassomeonestraightoutofahaberdasher’scataloguecirca1880inasharplytailoredbrownsuitwithnarrowlapels,astarchedwingtip-collaredshirt,andafour-in-handtie.

Acrosstheaisle,anothermansatreadinganewspaperandsmokinganenormouspipe.Bytheman’ssidesattwoyounggirls,identicallydressedinlightbluedresses,trimmedinwhitelaceatthecollarandsleeves.Blueandwhitebonnetssatperchedonthegirl’sheads,remindingmeofsomelong-ago-forgottenbutterad.

AsIglancedaround,Isawthateverypersononthetrainwasdressedinasimilarmanner.

“Excuseme,”Isaidtothemanacrossfrommewiththeidenticallydressedgirls.

Themanloweredhispaper.“Mightyoubespeakingtome?”

ItsuddenlydawnedonmeIhadnoideawhatIwantedtoask.

“Daddy,whyisthatmandressedsofunny?”oneofthetwoyounggirlsasked.Shewasright,ofcourse.Iwastheonewholookedoutofplace,havingdressed

Shewasright,ofcourse.Iwastheonewholookedoutofplace,havingdressedcasuallyforthetrip—inrunningshorts,Nikeshoes,andaNewYorkYankeesbaseballcap.

Themanslowlylookedmeoverfromheadtotoe,hiseyesfinallyrestingonmyhat.“AfanoftheKnickerbockers,Isee,”themansaid.

“TheKnickerbockers?”Irepeated.

“Oldestbaseballclubintheleague.Doyoubelievetheirfutureisbright?”

“Daddy,whyisheinhisundergarments?”oneofthegirlsasked,hervoiceloudenoughthatvirtuallyeveryheadinthetraincarturnedinourdirection.

“Bepolite,Sylvia,”saidthegirl’sfather.“Iamcertaintheyoungmanhashisreasons.“ItisclearheisheadinghometoNewYork,andthatisallweneedknow.”

“Actually,I’mfromChicago,”Isaid.

“Chicago?”themanbellowed.“Whyinheaven’snamewouldyouliveinonecity,yetcheerforaballclubfromanother?”Theentirerailcareruptedinlaughterattheman’scomment,whichseemedquitehumoroustoeveryonebutme.

Ineededtoberescued.AndIwas.

“I,myself,amfromthecityofPhiladelphia,yetIprefertheBostonRedStockingsclub,”cameavoice,thelaughtersuddenlydyingdown.“Comesitwithme,youngman,andweshalldiscussourteams.”

*

Istoodandwalkedbacktowherethemanwassittingandloweredmyselfintoanemptyseatoppositehim.

“Ihopeyoudon’tmindmyintrusionintoyourconversation,”themansaid,“butitappearedasifyouneededsomeonetotossyouarope.”

“Thatobvious,huh?”Isaid.

“Further,mayIassumethatyoudonotwishtodiscussthegameofbaseballanymorethanI?”

“Rightagain,”Isaidinagreement.“Baseballisthelastthingonmymind

“Rightagain,”Isaidinagreement.“Baseballisthelastthingonmymindrightnow.”

“Isthereastoryyoufindyourselfwishingtoshare?”

Iwasn’treallysureifexplainingmysituationwassuchagoodidea.Ihadnodesiretobeplacedinastraightjacketandlockedupinsomeasylumsomewhere,butIdecidedtotakeachance.“Well,I’mnotsurewhat’shappening,orhowIgothere,”Isaid.

“Didyouboardthewrongtrain?”themanasked.

“I’mafraidifItoldyou,youwouldn’tbelieveme,”Isaid.

“Well,then,ifthatbethecaseletussimplysitinthepresenceofeachother’scompanyandenjoythesoundofthetrainwheelsonthemetalrailsbelowusastheydeliverustoourdestinations,”themansaidwithacontentedsmile.

Forthenextfiveminutes,themanandIsattogether—neitherofussayingaword—asmymindracedthroughavarietyofpossibilities,noneofwhichmadeanysense.ThenIhadathought.

“Whatyearisit?”Iasked,breakingthesilence.

“Theyear?Why,thisistheyearofourlord,eighteen-hundredandeighty-eight,”themansaidmatter-of-factly.“Praytell,whatyeardidyouassumeittobe?”

Ifeltsickandleanedbackinmyseatandclosedmyeyes.

“Youlookashen,”themansaid.“PerhapsIshouldcallforsomeassistance?”

“No,no,justgivemeasecond,”Isaid,takingdeepbreathsandtryingtocalmmyselfdown.“I’llbefine…”

Iwaswrong.

“Thegameoflifeisagameofboomerangs.Ourthoughts,deedsandwordsreturntoussooneror

laterwithastoundingaccuracy.”–FlorenceScovelShinn

TrackFive:

MeetingRussellConwell

WhenIawokeIfoundmyselfonagurneyinthetrain’shospitalcar,adoctorinawhitecoatstandingoverme.Thedoctortookhisfingersandsqueezedmyneck.

“Doesn’tappeartohavemumps,andnosignofmeasles,”thedoctorsaidtothewell-dressedmanstandingnexttohim.“Inmyopinion,theboyissimplyovertiredandperhapsdehydrated.Ishouldthinkheisinnodanger,butitwouldbebestifsomeoneweretowatchoverhimincaseofarelapse.”

“Youcanreleasehiminmycare,”mynewfriendsaid.“Istheresomethingyouwishtohavemesign?”

“Whatisyourname,son?”thedoctorasked.

“Christopher,ChristopherPowers,”Ireplied.

Thedoctorwrotemynameonaformandhandedittomynewguardian,whosignedhisnameasIattemptedtopullmyselftogether.

“Thereisthesmallmatteroftwodollarsowed,”thedoctorsaid.“Doyouwishtosettleincash,orwouldyouprefertohavethebalancebilledtoyouraccount?”

“Myaccountwouldbepreferable,”mynewfriendsaid.

“Verywell.LetmejustbesureIcanreadyoursignature,”thedoctorsaid,pullinghisreadingglassesfromthepocketofhiswhitecoat.“Mr.RussellH.Conwell,isthatcorrect?”

Ifeltasuddentightnessinmychest.Didhejustsay…?

“Yes,”mynewfriendsaid,“butlikeyou,Iamadoctor—Dr.RussellH.Conwell.”

Mygaspmusthavebeenaudible.

Bothmenturnedandlookedatme,and—forthesecondtimeinlessthananhour—theroomwentblackaroundme.

TrackSix:

“IHaveWrittenNoSuchBook”

OnceI’drecoveredandwe’dreturnedtoourseatsinthepassengercar,Isaid,“YouaskedmeearlierwhatyearIthoughtitwas.Well,theanswertoyourquestionis2014.”

“Gad!Morethanone-hundredyearsfromnow?”Dr.Conwellasked.

Inodded.

Silencehungintheair.

“Andthere’smore,”Icontinued.“Iwasgivenacopyofyourbooktodayasagiftfrommywife,somethingtoreadonthetrain.”

“Andwhatbookmightthatbe?”Dr.Conwellasked.

“AcresofDiamonds,”Isaid.

“AcresofDiamonds?”Dr.Conwellrepeated.“Ihavewrittennosuchbook.”

“Ofcourseyouhave,”Isaid.“AcresofDiamondsisthebookyou’refamousfor.”

“Thatissimplyanuntruth,”Conwellsaid,shakinghisheadfromsidetoside.“DoyounotthinkIwouldknowitif—”

“Thenhowdoyouexplainthis?”Isaid,cuttinghimoffandholdingupthepaperback.

“Letmeseethat!”hesnapped,snatchingthebookfrommyhandandflippingthroughthefirstfewpages.“DearGod,thisismydiamondstory.”

“That’swhatI’vebeentryingtotellyou,Dr.Conwell.”

“Butwheredidthistitlecomefrom?”hesaid,hisfacereddeningwithanger.

“Areyousayingyoudidn’tcomeupwiththetitleAcresofDiamonds?”Iasked.

“Comeupwithit?I’venevereventhoughtit!”Conwellsnapped.“Notthatit’sabadtitle,mindyou—butitisnotatitleofmycreation.Ihavetoldthediamondstorymanytimes,butneverbythisname.”

“Whattitlehaveyoubeenusing?”

“TheArab’sTale,”Dr.Conwellsaid.“Now,Idemandthatyouexplainthisparlortrickofyours.”

Thenithitme.IgrabbedthebookfromDr.Conwell’shandandturnedtothebiographypage.“Yes!Thatexplainsit.”

“Explainswhat?”

“Yousaidthisis1888,right?Well,itsayshereAcresofDiamondswasfirstpublishedbytheJohnHuberCompanyin1890,”Isaid.“Thereasonyoudon’tknowanythingaboutwritingitisbecauseyouhaven’twrittenityet—andwon’tforanothertwoyears.”

“IknownothingofaJohnHuberorhiscompany,”Conwellsaid.“Ihavenotasingleclueastowhotheyare.”

“Well,youwill,”Isaid.

Conwellremainedsilentforseveralseconds,thenaskedinamorefriendlytone,“Andthisbook—thisAcresofDiamonds—doesitdowell?”

“Dowell?Itbecomesaninternationalbestseller.Betweenthebookandthespeech,youearnenoughmoneytobuildTempleUniversity.So,yeah,I’dsayitdoesokay,”Isaidwithabitofjokingsarcasminmyvoice.

“YoumeanTempleCollege?”hesaid.

“I’mguessingthenamegetschangedtoUniversity,”Isaid.“Inanycase,you’retheonewhogetsitbuilt.”

“Areyouquitecertain?”Conwellasked.

“Absolutely,”Isaid.

“Peoplewhoareunabletomotivatethemselvesmustbecontentwithmediocrity,nomatterhow

impressivetheirothertalents.”–AndrewCarnegie

TrackSeven:

HattieMay

Nightfell,thenmorningcame.Butnothinghadchanged.

Ifoundmyselfstillonthetrainintheyear1888withDr.RussellH.Conwell—authorofoneofthegreatestmotivationalbooksofalltime—andneitherofushadtheslightestexplanationastowhatwashappeningorwhy.

“Woulditbefairtoassumethatbookofyourshasinformationregardingmyeventualdemise?”Dr.Conwellaskedaswesatinthediningcarhavingbreakfast.

“Thisbookofyours,”Isaid.“Andtoansweryourquestion,yes;thereisafullbiographyattheback,includingthedateof…”Iallowedmywordstotrailoff,findingitimpossibletosaythewordaloud.

“…mydeath,”Dr.Conwellfinished.

“Yes.”

“Iadmit,everypartofmybeingwishestoreadwhatiswrittenthere,butIamquitecertainthedateofmydemiseisinformationwhichshouldbeknownonlytoGod,”Conwellsaid.“Assuch,itmustremainunknowntome.”

“Ofcourse,”Isaid,feelingsomewhatuncomfortablethatIknewthedateDr.Conwellwasworkingsohardtoavoidknowing—adatethatwasstillthirty-sevenyearsoff.

“However…”

“However,what?”Iasked.

“Withoutyourreferencinganythingwritteninmybiography,mightyoubewillingtoreadmesomeofthestoryfromthatbook?”Conwellasked.

“Idon’tthinkthatwouldhurtanything,”Isaid.Ipulledthebookfrommybagandturnedtothefirstpageofthetext,thenbeganreadingaloud:WhengoingdowntheTigrisandEuphratesriversmanyyearsagowithapartyofEnglishtravelers,makingacircuitoftheearthasthecorrespondentoftheNewYorkTribune…IfoundmyselfunderthedirectionofanoldArabguidewhomwehiredupatBagdad,andIhaveoftenthoughthowthatguideresembledour

barbersincertainmentalcharacteristics.

“Myheavens!”Conwellexclaimed.“ItisexactlyasItellit!”

“Ofcourseitisbecauseyouwroteit,”Isaid.“Well,youwillwriteit.”

“Amazing.”

“Doyouwantmetocontinue?”

“Betteryet,allowmetotellthenextpartasyoureadsilentlyalongandverifymyaccuracy,”Conwellsaid,closinghiseyesasifsearchingforascriptwrittenintheconfinesofhismind.Thenhebegan…

Hethoughtthatitwasnotonlyhisdutytoguideusdownthoserivers,anddowhathewaspaidfordoing,butalsotoentertainuswithstoriescuriousandweird,ancientandmodern,strangeandfamiliar.ManyofthemIhaveforgotten,andIamgladIhave,butthereisoneIshallneverforget.

Dr.Conwellopenedhiseyes.“Well?”

“It’sthesame,”Isaid.“Literally,wordforword.”

Dr.Conwelllookedoutthewindowofthetraincar.Thenheturnedbackandsaid,“DoyouknowwhyIamhereonthistrain?”

“HowcouldI?”Isaid.“Idon’tevenknowwhyI’mhere.”

“IamonmyreturnfromChicago,fromattendingtheRepublicanNationalConventiontonominateacandidatefortheofficeofpresident.”

“Areyourunningforoffice?”Iasked.

“Oh,heavensno!”Conwellsaidwithalaugh.“Iattendedfortheexpresspurposeofmeetingpowerfulmen—moreaccurately,menwithenoughmoneytohelpfundanewchurchinmyhomecityofPhiladelphia.Ourcurrentstructureisburstingattheseams,withmembersofthecongregationstandinginthehallwaysandoutintheyardlisteningtosermonsthroughopenedwindows.”

“Howmuchmoneydoyouneed?”Iasked.

“Iamneitherabuildernorarchitect,butIamtoldtheamountneededis$109,000,perhapsmore.Tomakemattersworse,”Conwellcontinued,“thisamountissomethingIhavepublicallypromisedtoraisebuthave,asofyet,beenunabletosecure.”

“Can’tyoujustbackoutonthedeal?”Iasked.

“Perhaps,”hesaid,“butdoingsowouldresultinthelossofourdeposit.”

“Perhaps,”hesaid,“butdoingsowouldresultinthelossofourdeposit.”

“Howmucharewetalkingabout?”

“Fifty-sevencents,”Conwellsaid.

Icouldn’thelpbutlaugh,thinkingDr.Conwellwasmakingajoke.ButthenIcouldseehowsolemnandserioushewas.

“Itisnottheamount,”Conwellsaid.“Itiswherethefifty-sevencentscamefromthatmakesallthedifference.”

“Why?I’dlovetohearthestory,”Isaid.

“ItwasduringaSundaymorningservice,andlikeallSundayservicesoflate,thechurchwaspackedtothegills.AndthissituationwasespeciallytrueoftheSundayschoolroomoccupiedbythechildren.AnditwasasIwalkedfromonebuildingtothenextthatIcameuponacryingchild.Thechild’snamewasHattieMayWaitt.”

“Whatwasshecryingabout?”

“HattieMaywasdistraughtatnotbeingallowedintothechurchthatmorning,”Conwellcontinued.“Butwhatoptiondidwehave?Therewasnotenoughroomforanothersoul!So,IdidtheonlythingIcouldthinktodo—Ihoistedthesmallweepingchildonmyshouldersandcarriedherthroughthewaitingcrowdsandintothechurch.Itwasbecauseofthis,unbeknownsttome,thatlittleHattieMaydecidedthatshewouldtakeituponherselftoraisemoneytoexpandthechurch,sothatnootherlittleboyorgirlwouldhavetobeexcludedfromaservicethewayshehadbeen.”

“Wow,”Isaid.“That’sreallysomething.”

“Yes,itwasquitesomethingforachildtodoonherown,butthestorydoesnotendthere.IhadnoideauntilamonthlaterwhenHattieMay’sparentscameintomyofficecarryingasmallpiggybankandtoldme…”

Conwellstoppedasiftryingtoholdbacktears.

“Toldyouwhat?”Iasked.

“HattieMayhadcontracteddiphtheria,andpassedaway,”Conwellsaid.“Butnotbeforeshe’dgonetocollectmoneyfromeveryonesheknew—moneythatsheintendedtodonatetothechurch—heldinthatsmallceramicbank.”

“Fifty-sevencents?”Iasked,thoughIalreadyknewtheanswer.

“Yes,”Conwellsaidwithtearswellinginhiseyes.“AndthatiswhyIamhere.Yousee,Idecidedifthatsmall,sweetchildcouldtakeituponherselfto

here.Yousee,Idecidedifthatsmall,sweetchildcouldtakeituponherselftoraisethefirstfifty-sevencentsforanewchurch,then—byGod—mostcertainlyIcouldmanagetoraisetherest.”

“Manyamanacquiresafortunebydoinghisbusinessthoroughly,whilehisneighborremains

poorforlife,becauseheonlyhalfdoesit.Ambition,energy,industry,perseverance,areindispensablerequisitesforsuccessinbusiness.Fortunealwaysfavorsthebrave,andneverhelps

amanwhodoesnothelphimself.”–P.T.Barnum

TrackEight:

Ft.Wayne,Indiana

RussellConwellhadjustfinishedtellingthestoryaboutHattieMayandthefifty-sevencentswhenthedoortothediningcaropenedandtheconductorentered.

“Nextstop,Ft.Wayne,Indiana,”theConductorcalledout,“Nextstop,Ft.Wayne!”

“Howlongwillthetrainbeatthestation?”Conwellaskedtheconductorashestrodedowntheaisle.Theuniformedmancheckedhispocketwatchandsaid,“Thetrainwilldepartthestationinexactlyeighty-twominutes.”

Conwelljumpedtohisfeetwiththeenthusiasmofamuchyoungermanandsaid,“Dressyourselfinsuitableclothing,Christopher,andbequickaboutit.Ibelievethatifweleavethisinstantwewillhavejustenoughtime.”

*

Fifteenminuteslater,afterthrowingontheonlysuitandtieIbroughtwithme,IfoundmyselftryingtokeepupwithDr.Conwell.Iwasinaweofmysurroundings.

“Wherearewegoing?”Iaskedaswemadeourwaydownacobblestonestreetpastwell-dressedmenontheirwaytowork,newspaperboysshoutingabouttheday’sheadline,anddodgingtheoccasionalhorse-drawncarriage.

“Ah!Thisisperfect!”exclaimedDr.Conwellwhenhespiedared-and-white-stripedbarbershoppole.Weenteredtheshopandfounditpackedwithmen,readingtheirmorningpapersandpatientlywaitingfortheirturninthechair.

Wastingnotime,RussellConwellmadehiswaytothecenteroftheroomandbellowed,“Gentlemen,allowmetotellyouatale—atalewhichIbelievewillleaveyouenrichedfarbeyondthefewpenniesIwillaskofyouatthestory’sconclusion!”

IwatchedinamazementaseveryoneloweredtheirpapersandlistenedasDr.

RussellConwelltoldtheAcresofDiamondsstory…

Theoldguidewasleadingmycamelbyitshalteralongthebanksofthoseancientrivers,andhetoldmestoryafterstoryuntilIgrewwearyofhisstory-tellingandceasedtolisten.ButIrememberthathetookoffhisTurkishcapandswungitinacircletogetmyattention.Icouldseeitthroughthecornerofmyeye,butIdeterminednottolookstraightathimforfearhewouldtellanotherstory.ButIdidfinallylook,andassoonasIdidhewentrightintoanotherstory.

TheoldguidetoldmethatthereoncelivednotfarfromtheRiverIndusanancientPersianbythenameofAliHafed.HesaidthatAliHafedownedaverylargefarm,thathehadorchards,grain-fields,andgardens;thathehadmoneyatinterest,andwasawealthyandcontentedman.Hewascontentedbecausehewaswealthy…andwealthybecausehewascontented!

OnedaytherevisitedthatoldPersianfarmeroneoftheseancientBuddhistpriests,oneofthewisemenoftheEast.Hesatdownbythefireandtoldtheoldfarmerhowthisworldofourswasmade.Hesaidthatthisworldwasonceamerebankoffog,andthattheAlmightythrustHisfingerintothisbankoffog,andbeganslowlytomoveHisfingeraround,increasingthespeeduntilatlastHewhirledthisbankoffogintoasolidballoffire.Thenitwentrollingthroughtheuniverse,burningitswaythroughotherbanksoffog,andcondensedthemoisturewithout,untilitfellinfloodsofrainuponitshotsurface,andcooledtheoutwardcrust.Thentheinternalfiresburstingoutwardthroughthecrustthrewupthemountainsandhills,thevalleys,theplainsandprairiesofthiswonderfulworldofours.Ifthisinternalmoltenmasscameburstingoutandcooledveryquicklyitbecamegranite;lessquicklycopper,lessquicklysilver,lessquicklygold,and,aftergold,diamondsweremade.Saidtheoldpriest:“Adiamondisacongealeddropofsunlight!”

Dr.Conwellpausedthenandstrodearoundtheroom,makingeyecontactwitheachandeverypersonthere.Afterhewascertainhehadeachman’sundividedattention,hecontinued:

Thisisascientifictruth!Adiamondisanactualdepositofcarbonfromthesun!TheoldpriesttoldAliHafedthatifhehadonediamondthesizeofhisthumbhecouldpurchasethecounty,andifhehadamineofdiamondshecouldplacehischildrenuponthronesthroughtheinfluenceoftheir

greatwealth.AndhesaidanotherthingIwouldneverforget.

HedeclaredthatadiamondisthehighestofGod’smineralcreations,asawomanisthehighestofGod’sanimalcreations.Isupposethatisthereasonwhythetwohavesuchalikingforeachother!

Theroomeruptedwithlaughter.ItwasclearthatDr.RussellConwellknewhowtoworkaroom.

AliHafedheardallaboutdiamonds,howmuchtheywereworth,andwenttohisbedthatnightapoorman.Hehadnotlostanything,buthewaspoorbecausehewasdiscontented,anddiscontentedbecausehefearedhewaspoor.Hesaid:“Iwantamineofdiamonds!”Andhelayawakeallnight.

Earlyinthemorninghesoughtoutthepriest.Iknowbyexperiencethatapriestisverycrosswhenawakenedearlyinthemorning,andwhenheshookthatoldpriestoutofhisdreams,AliHafedsaidtohim:“WillyoutellmewhereIcanfinddiamonds?”

Well,then,goalongandfindthem.Thatisallyouhavetodo—goandfindthem,andthenyouhavethem!‘ButIdon’tknowwheretogo.’‘Well,ifyouwillfindariverthatrunsthroughwhitesands,betweenhighmountains,inthosewhitesandsyouwillalwaysfinddiamonds.’‘Idon'tbelievethereisanysuchriver.’‘Ohyes,thereareplentyofthem.Allyouhavetodoistogoandfindthem,andthenyouhavethem.’SaidAliHafed:“Iwillgo!”

Sohesoldhisfarm,collectedhismoney,lefthisfamilyinchargeofaneighbor,andawayhewentinsearchofdiamonds.Hebeganhissearch,veryproperlytomymind,attheMountainsoftheMoon.AfterwardhecamearoundintoPalestine,thenwanderedonintoEurope,andatlastwhenhismoneywasallspentandhewasinrags,wretchedness,andpoverty,hestoodontheshoreofthatbayatBarcelona,inSpain,whenagreattidalwavecamerollinginbetweenthepillarsofHercules,andthepoor,afflicted,suffering,dyingmancouldnotresisttheawfultemptationtocasthimselfintothatincomingtide,andhesankbeneathitsfoamingcrest,nevertoriseinthislifeagain.

Conwellpausedagain,waitingforthewaveofangerandfrustrationthatwasabouttocome:

“ThatistheworststoryIhaveeverheard!”oneofthebarbershoppatronsdeclared.“Youwishtoreceivepaymentforsuchmorbidity?”anotherasked.

declared.“Youwishtoreceivepaymentforsuchmorbidity?”anotherasked.“Whatkindofmotivationisittolearnthattheheroisnotonlykilled,buthasthrownhimselfintotheseaduetohisownfailure?”athirdmandemanded.

“Ah,butthat’sthething!”Conwellsaidwithagleaminhiseye.“Thisisbutthefirstchapterofthestory!But,fearnot,forIamabouttowriteabookthatwillchronicleeverydetailofthistale,includinganendingthatwillleaveyoustunnedinamazement!”

“IbelieveIwouldbuysuchabook,”onemansaid.

“AswouldI,”declaredanother.

“Verywell,then,”Conwellsaid,pullingastackofenvelopesfromhisjacketpocketandpassingthemout.“Ifyouwillwriteyournameandaddressononeoftheseenvelopes—andplaceameretwodollarsinside—Ishallmailacopytoyouuponitspublication.”

IstoodandwatchedinwonderasvirtuallyeverymanintheroomdugintotheirpocketsandplacedtheirenvelopesinDr.Conwell’soutstretchedhand.

“Thisbookofyours,Conwell,”amancalledout.“Whatisittitled?”

Dr.Conwellturnedandlookedinmydirection,smiled,andsaid,“ItshallbecalledAcresofDiamonds!”

“Withoutstruggle,therecanbenoprogress.Thosewhoprofesstofavorfreedom,andyetdepreciateagitation,aremenwhowantcrops

withoutplowinguptheground.”–FrederickDouglass

TrackNine:

TellMeAboutYourself

Were-boardedthetraininthenickoftimeandatelunchtogetherinthediningcar.

“Doyouwishtomakeanothervisitwiththedoctor?”Dr.Conwellasked.

“No,”Isaid.“Unlessthey’vegotapsychiatristonboard,Idon’tthinkthereisanythingtheycandotohelpme.”

Conwelllaughed.“So,Christopher,tellmeaboutyourself.Areyoumarried?”

“Yes,”Isaid.“HernameisKatie.We’vebeenmarriedforfiveyearsnow.”

“AndhaveyouandKatiebeenblessedwithchildren?”

“Notyet,”Isaid.“We’replanningtowhenthetimeisright.”

“Trustme,Christopher—thetimeisneverrightforchildren,”Dr.Conwellsaid.“Youjustdecide,moveahead,andhavethem.”

“Whataboutyou?”Iasked.“I’membarrassedtosayIknownothingaboutyou.”“Well,Katie’sathirdgradeschoolteacher,andI’mintheprocessofgettingournetworkmarketingbusinessofftheground.”Itsoundsrathercomplicated,”Conwellsaid.

“ExceptforthedateIgotomeetmymaker,”Conwellsaid.

IwishedIdidn’t.“It’slikecarryinganenormousweight,”Isaid.

“ImaginehowGodmustfeel,”Conwellsaid.

“So,haveyoueverbeenmarried?”Iasked,notrealizingthechordIwasabouttostrike.

“Twice,”Conwellreplied.“MyfirstwifeleftthisEarthin1872,leavingmewithtwosmallchildren.”

“I’msorry,”Isaid.

“Noneedtobesorry,Christopher,”Conwellsaid.“IbelieveGodhasaplan,evenifwedonotknowwhatthatplanisatthetime—likeyou—beinghereonthistrain.Thereiscertainlyareasonforit,thoughwearenotprivytopreciselywhyatthistime.”

whyatthistime.”

Ihopedhewasright.

“Whenmywifedied,IaskedGodwhyhehadtakenher,anddoyouknowhowheanswered?”

Ishookmyhead,no.

“Heansweredwiththegiftofathirdchild—agirl,bymysecondwife—whowouldneverhavebeenbornwithouteacheventinmylifehavinghappenedexactlyasithad,”Conwellsaidwithconviction.“Butenoughaboutme.Tellme,Christopher,howdoyouandKatiemakeyourlivingintheyear2014?”

Again,Irealizedhowdifferenteverythingwas

“Whatisthisendeavorofwhichyouspeak?125yearsearlier.Theconceptofnetworkmarketingdidn’tevenexist.So,howtoexplainit?

“Youknowhowsalespeoplearethebackboneofanybusiness,right?”Iasked.

“Certainly,”Conwellsaid.“Ihavereadthenumberisrapidlyapproachingone-hundredthousand.”

“We’vegotthatmanypeopleinjustonelegofourcompany.”

“Oneleg?”Conwellsaid.

ThiswasgoingtobemoredifficultthanIthought.

“Themainpointisnetworkmarketingcompaniesofferproductsthroughanetworkofpeoplewhodon’treallyworkforthecompany,”Isaid.“Theyworkforthemselves.”

“Entrepreneurialspirits,arethey?”Conwellasked.

“Yes,that’stheperfecttermforit,”Isaid.“Andeachpersonisresponsibleforfindingotherentrepreneurialspiritstojointhem,whichiswhyIwasheadedtoNewYork.”

“Therearen’tenoughoftheseentrepreneurialspiritsavailableinChicago?”

“No,ofcoursethereare,”Isaid.

“HaveyoureadmyAcresofDiamondsbookcovertocover?”Conwellasked.

“Notyet,”Isaid.“I’djuststarteditwhenIboardedthetrain.”

“Interesting,”Conwellsaid.“PerhapsIknowwhyyouareonthetrainafterall.”

all.”

“Really?Why?”

“Well,letusallowthingstoplaythemselvesoutabitand—ifIamright—Ishallsharemytheorywithyou,”Conwellsaid.

“Okay,”Isaid.

“Fornow,mayIaskyouradviceonsomething?”

“Sure,”Isaid,findingitimpossibletoimagineanythingIwasqualifiedtoofferadviceon.

“Agoodfriendofmine—AsaChandler,anentrepreneurialspiritmuchlikeyourself—islaunchinghisownenterprise.Foryears,AsamadehislivingasalowlypeddlerhawkingJohnPemberton’ssyruptorestaurants.However,throughhardwork,AsahasearnedenoughtobuyPemberton’sformulaforthesumof$2,300,anoutrageouspriceforasimpleformula,doyounotthink?”

“Idon’tknow,”Isaid.“What’sthesyrupcalled?”

“PembertoncalledhisdrinkCoca-Cola,”Conwellsaid.“Myfriend,however,isthinkingofchangingthename.”

Ialmostchoked.“Ithinkyourfriendmadeagooddecisioninbuyingtheformula,”Isaid.

“Thatisgoodtohear,”Conwellsaid.“Andwhatofthename?”

“TellhimtostickwithCoca-Cola.”

“ThereisnotapoorpersonintheUnitedStateswhowasnotmadepoorbyhisownshortcomings.

Itisallwrongtobepoor.”–RussellH.Conwell

TrackTen:

MeetingFlorence

ItriedseveraltimestoreachKatie,butitbecameobviousmycellphonewasuseless—itbeingtheyear1888andall.

SoIdidwhatIalwaysdidwhenthingsseemedoutsidemycontrol.

Itookanap.

WhenIwokeupanhourlater,Idiscoveredagirl,wholookedtobesixteenorseventeenyearsofage,checkingmeout.Shehadlongblackhairdowntohershoulders,bigdarkeyes,andcheekbonesthatweresopronouncedshealmostlookedmalnourished.Whatmadeherstandoutmost,however,wasthatshewastheonlypersononthetrainnotwearingahat.

“CanIhelpyou?”Iasked.

“IheardyouspeakingwithDr.Conwell,”thegirlsaid.

“DoyouknowDr.Conwell?”Iasked.

“Notpersonally,”shesaid,“butIhaveheardhimspeakseveraltimes.Dr.Conwellisagreatman.”

“Iagree,”Isaid.“Areyoualonehereonthetrain?”

“Yes,”shesaid.“IamonmywaybackhomeafterseveraldaysspentinChicagotofurthermyartstudies,butIalsointendtobeanauthorandlecturerlikeDr.Conwell.”

Thatexplainedwhyshewaslookingatme.ShewantedtomeetDr.Conwell.“Icouldintroduceyouif…”

“Thatwouldbeappreciated,butitisactuallyyouIdesiretospeakwith.”

Thatcaughtmeoffguard,“Me?Why?”

“Becauseyouknowthingsaboutthefuture,”shesaid.

“So,you’vebeeneavesdropping?”Isaidwithatingeofannoyanceinmyvoice.

“Itisnotasifyouhavebeenatalldiscreet,”thegirlsaid.“Youcouldnothavestoodoutmoreifyouweredressedinagorillacostumeandwearing

havestoodoutmoreifyouweredressedinagorillacostumeandwearingballerinaslippers.”

“Oh?”Ireplied,findingmyselfdefensive,eventhoughthegirlwastotallyright.“Well,youstandoutyourself,youknow.”

“Me?Istandout?”shesaid.“Howso,exactly?”

“Youaren’twearingahat,”Isaid.

“That’syourbestretort?”thegirlasked.“ThatIamhatless?”

Icouldn’thavefeltmorestupidifItried.

“LetmeenlightenyouastowhyIamwithoutahat,”thegirlcontinued.“IdonotwearahatbecauseIdonotlikehatsandrefusetobeaslavetofashion,engagedinthepitifulbehavioroffollowingothersinpursuitofacceptancebydonningthecurrentfads.”

Therewassomethingaboutthegirl—poise,confidence,guts,perhapsalloftheabove—thatcausedmetolikeherimmediately.

Besides,IneededallthefriendsIcouldget.

“What’syourname?”Iasked.

Thegirlrosetoherfeetbeforeresponding.“MynameisFlorenceScovelfromthefinecityofPhiladelphia.”

Istoodandheldoutmyhand.“Mynameis…”

“…Christopher,ofChicago,Illinois,”Florencesaid,takingmyhandandshakingitfirmly.“MayI?”

Florenceloweredherselfonthewoodenseatnexttomeandwastednotimegettingtothepoint.“Now,ChristopherofChicago—withoutthewasteofadditionaltime—pleasetellmeeverythingyouknowregardingthefuture.”

TrackEleven:

TellingoftheFuture

AswasthecasewithDr.Conwell,IwasprettysurethattellingFlorenceaboutthefuturewasabreachofuniversaletiquette,andI’dseenenoughtime-travelmoviestoknowitwasabadideatoscrewaroundwiththespace-timecontinuum.

Florencehadotherthoughtsonthesubject.

“AnyagreementsyouhavewithDr.Conwellarestrictlybetweenyouandhe,”Florencesaid.

“Andtheconsequencesbedamned?”Iasked.

“Yes,”Florencesaid.“Thereareconsequencestoallactions,andmightIremindyoutherewillbeconsequencestoyournottellingmewhatyouknow.”

Shehadapoint.Besides,therewasnousefightingit—FlorenceScovelwasaforceofnaturenottobedenied.“Sowhatdoyouwanttoknow?”

“Iwishtoknowwhatthefutureislike,andhowthingshavechanged.Arepeoplemorecomfortable?Whatwonderfulinventionshavebeencreated?Iwanttoknowitall!”

“Yougotahundredyearstospare?”Isaid.

“Excellentpoint,”Florencesaid.“Howaboutwestartwiththebiggesteventbetweenthismomentandyourtime.”

“Iguessthebiggestthingthathappensisin1969,whentheUnitedStateslandsamanonthemoon.”

“Thatisnotpossible!”Florenceshrieked,causingeveryoneinthetraincartoturnandlookatus.Irealizedmymistakeinstantly.IfIweretoshareinformationaboutthefuture,Iwouldhavetotakeitalittleslower.

“Maybeweshoulddothischronologically,startingtodayandworkingforward,”Isaid.

“Perhapsthatwouldbebest,”Florencesaid,havingcalmeddown.

Thinkingthatfifteenyearsinthefuturewouldn’tbetoomuchofaleapforFlorence,Istartedagain.“In1903,OrvilleandWilberWrightcompletethefirst

Florence,Istartedagain.“In1903,OrvilleandWilberWrightcompletethefirstsuccessfulairplaneflight.”

Iwaswrong.

“DearGod!”Florenceshouted,everyheadturningonceagaininourdirection.Florenceloweredhervoice.“Areyoutellingmethatmanwilltakeflightinamerefifteenyears’time?”

“Theyonlygetoffthegroundforafewseconds,butyes—anditchangestheworld,”Isaidquietly.“Peoplewho’dnevertraveledmorethanafewhundredmilesintheirlivesstartgoingallovertheworld.”

“My,whatIwouldgivetowitnesssuchanevent!”Florencesaid.“Tellme,Christopher,wheredoesthishistoricmomenttakeplace?”

Inforpenny,inforapound.

“It’saplacecalledKittyHawk,”Isaid.“IntheCarolinas.”

Florence’seyeswerebrightwithexcitement,asifshewereglowinginside.“Whatelse?”sheasked.“Please,tellmemore!Whathappensnext?”

IfoundmyselfwishingI’dhadahistorybookwithme,orataminimumhavingpaidbetterattentioninhistoryclass.“IguessthenextthingisHenryFord’sinventionoftheassemblyline.Thismakesitpossibletobuildcars—automobiles—cheaplyenoughthatanyonecanownone.Bytheyear1950,peoplewillbedrivingallacrossthecountryonasystemcalledhighways.”

“Canthisallbetrue?”Florenceasked.

Inodded.“Butthere’ssomebadstuff,too,Florence.TheSpanishfluisgoingtokillsomethinglikeone-hundredmillionpeoplein1918orthereabout.IfIrememberright,itmostlykillsyoungerpeople,soyou’regoingtowanttowatchoutforthat.”

“Yousaythisasifitiswritteninstone,”Florencesaid.“Certainlythere’sawaytostopsuchatragedy?”

“Idon’tthinkso,”Isaid.“Thegoodnewsistherearemanyadvancesinmedicine—antibioticsandvaccinesforpolioandmeaslesandsmallpox—whichsavesmillionsofpeoplewhowouldhavedied.”

“Beyondbelief,”shereplied.

“Gettingbacktoourchronology,”Isaid,“thenextbigthingwillbethestockmarketcrashof1929,followedbyTheGreatDepression.But,asusual,AmericacomesoutofitokaybytheendofWorldWarI.”

comesoutofitokaybytheendofWorldWarI.”

“Theentireworldisatwar?”

“Yeah,andthere’sasecondoneagainstGermanyagain.ButJapangetsinvolvedbyattackingPearlHarbor.ThenweinvadeFrance,takeoutAdolphHitler,andthenAlbertEinsteinfiguresouthowtosplittheatomandthenwe—”

“PearlHarbor?”Florenceasked,tryingdesperatelytokeepup.

“It’sinHawaii.”

“There’ssomuchtotakein,”Florencesaid.“Please,Christopher,justtellmethis.Islifebetterinthefuture?”

“Better?Betterisaprettysubjectiveterm,”Isaid.“But,yeah—overallthingsarebetterforvirtuallyeveryone.”

“Thatisgoodtohear,”Florencesaid.“Whatoftheotherinventionstocome?”

Again,Ididn’twanttojumptoofarahead.“Well,wecreateathingcalledtelevision,whichallowspicturestobetransmittedthroughtheairandpeoplecanwatchshowsonaboxinyourlivingroom.Actually,ifmycellphoneworkedwecouldwatchTVrighthereonthetrain.”

“Idonotunderstandwhatyouaresaying,”Florencesaid,lookingdismayed.Ofcourseshedidn’tunderstand.Howcouldshe?

“Acellphoneisatelephoneyoucarrywithyouwhereveryougo,”Isaid,pullingoutmycellandshowingittoher.“Ihavenoreceptionrightnow—probablybecausecellphonetowerswon’tbeinventedforanotherhundredyears—butthebatteryisstillchargedsoatleastthegameswork.”

“Games?Suchaschessandbackgammon?”sheasked.

“Yeah,buttherearealotofothers,too,likeCandyCrushandAngryBirds,”Isaid.“Here,I’llshowyou.”

IshowedAngryBirdstoheronthecellphonescreen.“Thepointofthegameistoflingdifferentkindsofbirdsatthepigs,andtrytokillthem.”

“Pleasetellmethisisnotthebestofwhatthefuturebrings?”Florencesaid.“Murderingpigswithfrustratedfowl?”

“Angrybirds,”Icorrected.“And,no,there’ssomuchmore—indoorplumbing,refrigerators,frozenfood,laptops,electricity,washingmachines,vacuumcleaners,microwaveovens,theInternet.Oh,andpeoplefinallycometotheconclusionthatsmokingcauseslungcancer,”Isaidjustabitmoreloudly

theconclusionthatsmokingcauseslungcancer,”Isaidjustabitmoreloudlythannecessarysothatsomeofthemanysmokersinthetraincarcouldhearmethroughthehazeofpipeandcigarsmoke.

“Smokingkillspeople?”Florenceasked.

“Absolutely,smokingisoneoftheworstthingsyoucando,”Isaidagain,evenmoreloudlythistime.

“Thefutureyoudescribe,itsoundslikeaplaceofmadness,”Florencesaid.

“Yes,Iguessitdoes,”Isaid.

“Pleasedonotmisunderstandme,Christopher,”Florencesaid.“Itsoundslikeaplaceofwonderful,gloriousmadness!Aplacewheretherearenolimits—whetheryouareamanorwoman—andanythingispossible.Andtothinkthereistalkaboutshuttingdownthepatentoffice.”

“Shutdownthepatentoffice?”Iaskedindisbelief.“Whywouldanyonewanttoshutdownthepatentoffice?”

“Thecommissioner,amanbythenameofCharlesDuell,hasthenotionthateverythingthatcanbeinventedalreadyhasbeen,”Florencesaidwithdisgust.“Ihavealwaysbelievedhimtobeafool,andnow—withyourtalesofthemanyfabulousinventionstocome—youhaveconfirmedit.”

Allthistalkaboutinventionssuddenlymademethinkofsomething.“HasAlexanderGrahamBellinventedthetelephonealready?”Iasked.

“Yes,we’vehadtelephonessinceIwasayounggirl.Theyarestillverynew,however,sonoteveryonehasoneyetlikeinyourfuture.”

“Doyouthinkyoucouldhelpmefindone,Florence?”

“Certainly,butunderonecondition.”Florencesaid.

“Yes,I’dbegladtointroduceyoutoDr.Conwell,”Isaid.

“Actually,”Florencesaidwithaslysmile,“Iwashopingyou’dallowmetoplayAngryBirds.”

“Ifyouwanttobehappy,setagoalthatcommandsyourthoughts,liberatesyourenergy,

andinspiresyourhopes.”–AndrewCarnegie

TrackTwelve:

Cleveland,Ohio

Nextstop,Cleveland,Ohio!”theconductorannounced,advisingpassengerswhoexitedthetraintore-boardnolaterthan7:30p.m.

Iglancedatmywatchandsawitwas5:42p.m.

“Ifweleaverightaway,”IsaidtoFlorence,“weshouldbeabletofindaphoneandgetbackbeforethetraindeparts.”

“Ah,Christopher,thereyouare!”Dr.Conwellcalledout,workinghiswayuptheaisleofthepassengercartowardus.“IthoughtClevelandanexcellentopportunitytosharetheAcresofDiamondstaleagain.Wouldyoucaretocomealong?”

“Sure,butwoulditbeokayifIbroughtafriendalong?”Iasked.

“Andwhomightthisfriendbe?”Conwellasked.

“Dr.Conwell,thisisFlorenceScovel,”Isaid.

“Goodevening,Dr.Conwell,”Florencesaid,extendingherhand.“IwaspresentatyourtalkattheBaptistTempleinPhiladelphiatwoyearsago.Veryeye-opening,ifImaysayso.”

Conwellsmiledandlookedpleased.“Itisadelighttomeetyou,Florence.Iappreciatethekindwords.”

“Florenceisgoingtohelpmefindatelephone,”Isaid.“Itprobablywon’twork,butIhavetotryandreachKatie.”

“Thenwebestmovealongifwewishtoaccomplishourobjectives,”Conwellsaid.

*

Dr.ConwellledFlorenceandIdownalongstreetthroughthecenterofCleveland—pastbakeriesandbutchershopsandliveplayhouses—untilwecame

uponafirehouse.

“Ah,theperfectplacetopresentmytalk!”Dr.Conwellexclaimed.

“Doyouthinkthefirestationwouldhaveaphone?”Iasked.

“Iwouldthinktheyshould,”Florencesaid.

“Perhaps,butIwouldthinkthepolicestationabetterbet,”Conwellsaid.“Haveyougotmoney?”

Money?Theanswertothatwasyesandno.

“Here,”Conwellsaid,digginginthepocketofhistrousersandpullingoutseveralcoins.“Makingatelephoniccallisnotaninexpensivematter.”

“Thankyou.FlorenceandIwillcatchuptoyouassoonaswecan,”Isaid,checkingmycellphoneonelasttime—justincase—onlytodiscoverthebatterywascompletelydead.

“Sorry,”Florencesaidwithasheepishgrin.“IhopeIdidnotdestroyit.IwasplayingwithyourAngryBirds,anditwentdarkandstopped.”

“It’sokay,”Isaid.“Thephoneisthemostimportantthing,andithasn’tworkedsinceIgotonTheDiamondLine,andthere’snoreasontothinkit’sgoingtostartworkingnow.”

Unfortunately,findingaphonewasharderthaneitherofusthought.Finally,Florencespottedapoliceofficer.“Couldyoudirectustoyourpolicestation?”Florenceasked.

Thecoplookedmeupanddown,checkingoutmyoddclothing.“Isthismanbotheringyou,miss?”

“Notintheleast,”Florencesaid.“Wesimplyneedtofindatelephone.Isthestationequippedwithone?”

“Wehaveatelephone,”thecopsaid,myspiritslifting.“Butthedevicehasnotbeenoperationalforseveraldays.Awonderfulinventionwhenitoperates.MightIsuggestyoutrythehospital?Itisaboutonemilefromhereinthatdirection.”

Thecoppointedhisfingertothewest,andtenminuteslaterFlorenceandIenteredthelobbyofClevelandGeneral.

*

Thephonelookedjustlikesomethingoutofanoldmovie—awoodenboxmountedtothewallwithahandsetontopinametalcradle—andtwosilverbellsononeside,andacrankhandleontheother.

“HowdoIdialit?”Iasked.

“Youhaveneverusedaphone?”Florenceasked.

“Notonelikethis.Thisthingisasnewtomeasmycellphoneistoyou.”

“Yousimplypickupthehandset,andtelltheoperatorthenameofthepartyyouwishtoconnectto,”Florencesaid.IliftedthehandsetasFlorenceinstructedandplacedittomyear,butnothinghappened.“Oh,Iforgotthatyoumustcrankitfirst.”

Florencereachedoverandcrankedthehandleseveraltimesand—sureenough,amomentlater—anoperatorcameontheline.“Whomdoyouwishtoring?”thefemaleoperatorsaid.

“ThenumberI’mtryingtoreachis—“

“Nameoftheparty,please,”theoperatorsaid.

“Um,hernameisKatiePowers,and—“

“Whatexchangeisyourpartyin?”theoperatorasked.

“Exchange?What’sanexchange?”Isaid.

“Klondike?Spring?Butterfield?”theoperatorasked.“Imustknowtheexchange.”

“Idon’tknow,”Istammered.“HernameisKatiePow—“

“Iamsorrysir,butIcannotmakeyourconnectionwiththeinformationprovided.ThankyouforusingtheBellTelephoneCompany.”

Thelinewentdead.

Iplacedthehandsetbackinitssilvercradle,feelingtotallydefeated.

“Iamtrulysorry,Christopher,”Florencesaid.

Justthen,thebellonthesideofthephonebegantoring.

Iknewthecallcouldn’tpossiblybeforme,ofcourse,butIreachedoutandliftedthehandsetanyway.

Atfirst,allIcouldhearwasaloudcracklingsound,butthen—tomyimmense

Atfirst,allIcouldhearwasaloudcracklingsound,butthen—tomyimmenseshockandsurprise—IheardKatie’svoice.

Itwasveryfaint,asifithadtraveledamillionmiles.

Butitwasher.

“Katie?”Isaidloudly.“Katie,isthatyou?”

“Christopher?”Iheardherask.

“Yes!”Ipracticallyyelled.“Yes,it’sme!”

“Yousoundsofaraway,”Katiesaid.

Shehadnoidea.

“Howdidyouknowtocallmehere?”Iasked.

“Whatdoyoumean?”Katiesaid.“Youcalledme?”

Thiswasgettingcreepierbytheminute.

“Whereareyou?”sheasked.“Whenyoudidn’tcallIgotworried.Areyouattheconference?”

“No,”Isaid,shoutingtomakesureshecouldhearmeoverthecracklingsoundonthephoneline.“I’minCleveland.”

“Cleveland?”Katiesaid.“WhyareyouinCleveland?”

“Somethinghappened,Katie…”

“Areyouinthehospital?Areyouhurt?”sheaskedfrantically.

“It’shardtoexplain,butIthinkit’sgotsomethingtodowiththebookyouboughtme.”

“AcresofDiamonds?”sheasked.ThecracklingsoundwassoloudnowIcouldbarelymakeoutwhatshewassaying.“Tellmewhereyouare.”

“I’monatrainwithRussellConwell,”Isaid.

Therewasalongsilence,thenKatiesaid,“That’snotfunny,Christopher.Tellmethetruth.Whereareyou?”

ButbeforeIcouldrespond,thecrackingnoiseabruptlystoppedandtherewasnothingbutsilence.

“Katie?Katie!”Iyelledintothephone,butitwasnouse.

Shewasgone.

*

WhenFlorenceandIreunitedwithDr.Conwellonthetrain,hewasecstatic.“Theyateitup!”hesaid.“Ireceivedseventy-twodollarsinorders.HowIwishyoucouldhavebeenthere.”

“Thingstooklongerthanwethought,”Isaid.

“Christophertalkedtohiswifeacrosstheexpanseoftime,”Florencesaid.

“Isthistrue,Christopher?”

“Yes,”Isaid.“Idon’tknowhow,butitwasher.ItwasKatie.”

“Itwastrulyamiracle,”Florencesaid.

“Perhaps,”Dr.Conwellsaid.“That,orGodhastakenapositionworkingforMr.Bell.”

“Mostpeopleconsiderlifeabattle,butitisnotabattle,itisagame.”–FlorenceScovel-Shinn

TrackThirteen:

Harrisburg,Pennsylvania

Howdidallthesepeopleknowtobehere?”IaskedasthetrainpulledintothestationinHarrisburg.

“Ihavenoearthlyidea,”Conwellsaid,peeringthroughthepassengercarwindowsatthecrowdgatheredbeneathaseaofblackumbrellasinasteadilyfallingrain.

“Wordofyourtalkmusthavespread,”Florencesaid.

Dr.Conwellpulledhimselfawayfromtheglass.“Wouldeitherofyouliketojoinme?Perhapssayafewwords?”

SharingtheplatformwithaniconlikeRussellConwellwouldbeadreamforsomepeople,butmyfearofpublicspeaking—evenifjustafewwords—madeitimpossibleformetoaccepttheinvitation.

“IthinkI’dliketoexperiencethemomentwiththecrowd,”Isaid.“Butthanks.”

“IdonotcarewhatChristopherwantstodo,”Florencesaid.“IdohaveafewwordsIwouldliketoshare—fromawoman’sperspective.”

*

Minuteslater,Ifoundmyselfinthecrowd—shoulder-to-shoulderwithfivehundredmenandwomeninadrivingrain,workingmywayfromumbrellatoumbrella—eachofwhomhadcometohearDr.ConwelldeliverhisnewlytitledAcresofDiamondstalk.

Finally,thereardoorsofthetrainswungopen,andDr.Conwellsteppedoutontherearplatformofthetraintothunderousapplause,withyoungFlorenceScovelbyhisside.

Dr.Conwellremainedsilent,patientlywaitingforthechantsof“Speech!Speech!”todieaway.Thenheclearedhisthroatandbegan:

Thankyou,dearfriends,forbravingtherainofthisunusuallycoldandrainyday!Itismysincerepromisethatyoushallconsidertheeffortworthwhile.Thatsaid,Iamastonishedthatsomanypeopleshouldcaretohearthisstory,whichisastudyinpsychology,onewhichbreaksallrulesoforatoryanddepartsfromthepreceptsofrhetoric.

Ihavesometimesstudiedforayearuponalectureandmadecarefulresearch,puttingtoomuchworkonit,thenpresentedthelecturejustonce—andneverdelivereditagain!Butthislecture,thishadnoworkonit—throwntogetherperfectlyatrandom,spokenoffhandwithoutanyspecialpreparation,toldfromtimetotimetofriendsatdinner,butneverrisingtothelevelofbeingalecture,anentirefailure.

Untilnow,untilthisverymoment,whereIhavecometopredictthatthislecture—whichInowcallAcresofDiamonds—willbecomethemostfamousofallandwillonedaybefoundinbooksinnearlyeverylibrary.DonotaskmehowIknowsuchthings,buttrustmewhenItellyou,Ido.

The“AcresofDiamonds”aboutwhichIhavementionedaretobefoundinthiscity,inHarrisburg,orforthatmatterfromwhereveryoumayhavetraveledtobehere.Infact,manyhavefoundthem!Andwhatanymanhasdone,anyothermancando.

AndnowIshallsharethetale…

Dr.Conwellpausedforafulltenseconds,allowingtheexcitementtobuild,andthenlaunchedintothestory:

WhengoingdowntheTigrisandEuphratesriversmanyyearsagowithapartyofEnglishtravelers…

Dr.ConwelldeliveredtheportionsofthestoryI’dheardhimsharealready—aboutAliHafedsellinghisfarmandsettingabouttofindthediamonds,onlytofailinhisquest.

JustastheaudiencehadinthebarbershopinFt.Wayne,thecrowdgaspedinhorrorwhenConwellreachedthepointinthestorywhenAliHafedflunghimselfintothesea.

Knowinghowtoworkthecrowd,Dr.Conwellwaitedforthepreciserightmomenttojumpbackin.“Butthereismore!”heshouted.

Whenthatoldguidetoldmethatawfullysadstory,hestoppedthecamelIwasridingonandwentbacktofixthebaggagethatwascomingoff

anothercamel,andIhadanopportunitytomuseoverhisstorywhilehewasgone.Thereseemedtobenobeginning,nomiddle,noend,nothingtoit.ThatwasthefirststoryIhadeverheardtoldinmylife—andwouldbethefirstoneIeverread—inwhichtheherowaskilledinthefirstchapter.Ihadbutonechapterofthatstory,andtheherowasdead!

Thecrowdnoddedinagreementandrelaxed,knowingtherewasmoretocome.

Whentheguidecamebackandtookupthehalterofmycamel,hewentrightaheadwiththestory,intothesecondchapter,justasthoughtherehadbeennobreak,saying:“Oneday,themanwhopurchasedAliHafed’sfarmledhiscamelintothegardentodrink.Andasthatcamelputitsnoseintotheshallowwaterofthatgardenbrook,AliHafed’ssuccessornoticedacuriousflashoflightfromthewhitesandsofthestream.Hepulledoutablackstonewithaneyeoflightreflectingallthehuesoftherainbow.Hetookthepebbleintothehouseandputitonthemantelthatcoveredthecentralfiresandforgotallaboutit.

Afewdayslater,thissameoldpriestcameintovisitAliHafed’ssuccessor,andthemomentheopenedthatdrawing-roomdoorhesawthatflashoflightonthemantel,andherusheduptoit,shouting,“Hereisadiamond!HasAliHafedreturned?”

“Ohno,AliHafedhasnotreturned,andthatisnotadiamond.Thatisnothingbutastonewefoundrightouthereinourowngarden.”

“But,”thepriestreplied,“ItellyouIknowadiamondwhenIseeit,andIknowpositivelythatisadiamond.”

Thentogethertheyrushedoutintothatoldgardenandstirredupthewhitesandswiththeirfingers,andlo!Therecameupothermorebeautifulandvaluablegemsthanthefirst.“Thus,”theguidesaidtome—and,friends,itishistoricallytrue—“wasdiscoveredthediamondmineofGolconda,themostmagnificentdiamondmineinallthehistoryofmankind,excellingtheKimberlyitself.TheKohinoorandtheOrloffofthecrownjewelsofEnglandandRussia,thelargestonearth,camefromthatmine.”

WhenthatoldArabguidetoldmethesecondchapterofhisstory,hethentookoffhisTurkishcapandswungitaroundintheairagaintogetmyattentiontothemoral.ThoseArabguideshavemoralstotheirstories,althoughtheyarenotalwaysmoral.

Theguideswunghishatandhesaidtome,“HadAliHafedremainedathomeandduginhisowncellar,orunderneathhisownwheat-fieldsorinhisowngarden,insteadofwretchedness,starvation,anddeathbysuicideinastrangeland,hewouldhavehadhisacresofdiamonds.”

Whenhe’dfinished,thecrowdwentabsolutelywildwithapplause.ItwasunlikeanythingIhadeverwitnessed.

Thebiggestsurprise,however,wasyettocome.

TrackFourteen:

FlorenceGetsHerChance

RussellConwellhadjustfinisheddeliveringhisAcresofDiamondstalktotheenthusiasticcrowdwho’dgatheredattheHarrisburgtrainstation.Butthenhedidsomethingnooneexpected.

Conwellturnedtotheyounggirlwho’dbeenstandingontheplatformwithhimandsaid,“Florence,wouldyoucaretoshareafewwordstothegathering?”

Suchaninvitationwouldhavethrownmostpeopleintoastateofutterpanic,butFlorenceseemedcalmandintotalcontrolofherself.Whatanamazingshowingofpoiseforsomeonesoyoung.Wheredoessuchconfidencecomefrom?Iwondered.

WithanairofconfidenceI’msureIcouldnothavemustered,Florencesteppedforwardandbegan…

IfthereisonethingIhavelearnedinmylongandtumultuousseventeenyearsonthisEarth…

Thecommentbroughtimmediatelaughterfromtheaudiencebeforeshecontinued:

…Itisthat,whilewecannotalwayscontrolourthoughts,wecancontrolourwords.Anditistherepetitionoftherightwordsthatimpressesthesubconscious,andwearethenthemasterofthesituation.

InthesixthchapterofJeremiah,weread:“Isetawatchmanoveryou,saying,Hearkentothesoundofthetrumpet.”

Yoursuccessandhappinessinlifedependuponthewatchmanatthegateofyourthoughts,whichsoonerorlater,crystallizesontheexternal.

Sadly,peoplethinkbyrunningawayfromanegativesituation,theywillberidofit,butthesamesituationconfrontsthemwherevertheygo.

Manypeoplearecuttingoutfearpictures,seeingthingsthatarenotdivinelyplanned.However,withthe“singleeye,”manseesonlythetruth.Heseesthroughevil,knowingthatoutofitcomesgood.Hetransmutesinjusticeintojustice,anddisarmshisseemingenemybysendingout

goodwilltoall.

WereadinmythologyofthegiantCyclops,saidtohaveinhabitedSicily.Thesegiantshadonlyoneeyeinthemiddleoftheforehead.

Well,Isaythatyouareindeedagiantwhenyouhaveasingleeye!Everythoughtwillbeaconstructivethought,andeveryword,awordofpower.

Letthethirdeyebethewatchmanatyourgate!If,therefore,thineeyebesingle,thywholebodyisfulloflight!Withthesingleeyeyourbodywillbetransformedintoyourspiritualbody—the“bodyelectric”madeinGod’slikenessandimage!

Byseeingclearlytheperfectplan,wecanredeemtheworldwithourinnereye,seeingaworldofpeace…andaworldofplenty…andaworldofloveandgoodwilltowardoneanother!

Icouldnotbelievemyeyes!JustastheyhadforDr.Conwell,thecrowdburstintowildapplause.

Dr.ConwellsteppedforwardandhuggedFlorence,almostasifhewereaproudfather,andturnedtoaddressthecrowdonelasttime:

Inleaving,Isay—thatshouldyoubethinkingtoyourself,“Whatdoesonesoyoungknowoflife?”ThenyoushallnotbecheatingFlorence;youshallbecheatingyourself!Forsheiscorrect!Weshouldenjoyaworldfilledwithpeace,love,andgoodwillforoneanother,andIwishthesethingsandmoreforeachofyougatheredheretoday.

ButFlorencealsousedanotherword,awordIhopeyoucaughtforitssupremeimportance—itwastheword“plenty.”

Isaythatyoushouldenjoyalifeofplenty,andletmenotmincewords—byplenty,Imeanthatyououghttogetrich!

Thecrowdcheeredandapplauded.

Whatismore,Isayyoushouldnotonlygetrich,Isayitisyourdutytogetrich!Howmanyofyou,mypiousbrethren,arethinkingnow:“DoesDr.Conwell,aChristianminister,spendhistimegoingupanddownthecountryadvisingyoungpeopletogetrich—togetmoney?”Yes,ofcourseIdo!Peoplesay,“Isn'tthatawful!Whydon’tyoupreachthegospelinsteadofpreachingaboutman’smakingmoney?”

Becausetomakemoneybyhonestmeansistopreachthegospel!Thatis

thereason!

TomakemoneyhonestlyistolivethewayGodwishesforusall!Thatismygospel!Thatisthereason!Whatotherreasondoesamanneed?

Virtuallyeverypersonbeganmakingtheirwaytowardtherearplatformofthetrainwithenvelopesstuffedwithcash.

*

Anhourlaterwewerebackinthemainrailcar,headingeastoutofHarrisburgtowardAllentown,Pennsylvania,andthenNewYorkCity.

“YoudorealizewhatamiracleyourbeinghereisandhowmuchIappreciatewhatyouhavedone,doyounot?”Dr.Conwellsaid.

“Me?Ididn’tdoanything,”Isaid.

“Oh,butyouhaveChristopher.Youaretheanswertomyprayers,”Conwelldeclared.“Yousee,whenIwasunsuccessfulinmyendeavorsatraisingmoneyinChicago,IaskedGodtoshowmeaway—tosendamessenger—totellmehowtoraisethemoneymyself.ThenIclosedmyeyes,”Conwellsaid.“AndwhenIopenedthem,thereyouwere.”

“Beginwhereyouare,andwhatyouare.”–RussellH.Conwell

TrackFifteen:

MyAcreofDiamonds

AsIsatinthediningcarthatafternoon,IfoundmyselfthinkinglessaboutthestrangesituationI’dfoundmyselfin,andmoreaboutthereasonwhy.

Whyhadtheuniverseplacedmehere?

Iwolfeddownaplateofbeefstroganoffandwasheditdownwithabigglassofice-coldmilk—courtesyofDr.Conwell—whohadarrangedformetochargemymealstohisaccountsinceIhadnospendablecash.

Iopenedmyjournal,somethingIhadbeendoingforseveralyearsnow,andsummarizedeverythingthathadhappened,startingwiththemomentIwokeuponthetrainandfoundmyselfbackintheyear1888.ThemoreIwrote,themoreIrealizedthingsboileddowntothreeinescapableconclusions:Conclusion#1:Thiswasn’tadream.Iknowwhatdreamsfeellike,andthiswashappeningforreal…

Conclusion#2:WhatwashappeningwasconnectedtoKatie’sgift…

Conclusion#3:TheremustbealessonIwassupposedtolearnfromthis—ifnot,whywasthishappening?

IbegantothinkaboutthemainlessonconveyedintheAcresofDiamondsstory,andDr.Conwell’spremisethateveryresourceapersonneedscanbefoundrightwheretheyare.

Andthat’swhenithitme:

Iwastheguywhowasabandoninghisacresofdiamonds.Thestorywasaboutme.IwasAliHafed,goneofftofindhisdiamond,whenallalongtheywererightthereinmyownbackyard.

Prospectingforbusiness…

Prospectingforpeople…

Prospectingfordiamonds…

Prospectingforgold…

Itwasallthesamething!

IthoughtaboutmynetworkmarketingbusinessandrealizedhowmuchtimeandenergyI’dwastedovertheyearslookingouttheresomewhereformyacreofdiamonds.

AndtheIGSBEConferencewasaperfectexample!WhatwasIexpectingtofindinNewYorkthatdidn’texistathome?WhatresourceswereavailableathousandmilesawaythatwereunavailabletomeinChicago?

Ishovedmyjournalbackinmybag,eagertofindDr.ConwellandFlorenceandtellthemaboutmybreakthrough.Andthen,asimportantasthisexperiencehadbeen…

Iwantedtogetoffthistrain...

IwantedtogetbacktoKatie…

IwantedtogetbacktoChicago...

Iwantedtogetbacktowork!

“Thosewhoreallydesiretoattainanindependence,haveonlytosettheirmindsuponit,andadoptthepropermeans,astheydoinregardtoanyotherobjectwhichtheywishtoaccomplish,andthethingiseasilydone.”

–P.T.Barnum

TrackSixteen:

TheWrinkledOldMan

Istoodtoleavethediningcar,butjustasIdid,amanslidintotheseatontheoppositesideofthetable.

“So,youfigureditout,didyou?”

Icouldn’tbelievemyeyes.ItwasthewrinkledoldmanfromthetrainstationinChicago,theonewho’dgivenmedirectionstowhereIcouldboardTheDiamondLinethirty-sixhoursearlier.

“Whatisthis,somekindofcosmicpersonaldevelopmentworkshop?”Iasked.

“ACosmicworkshop?”theoldmansaidwithalaugh.“Well,yes,Iguessthat’sasgoodadescriptionasany.I’vegottorememberthatone.Butyouhaven’tansweredmyquestion.”

“Whichwas…?”

“Haveyoufiguredoutwhyyou’rehere?”theoldmanaskedagain.

“Yes,”Isaid.“AndwhileIdon’tunderstandhowyoumadeanyofthishappen,thankyou.”

“Don’tthankme—Ididn’tdoanything,”hesaid.“Andwhyareyouactinglikewe’redonehere?”

“What?”

“Son,we’rejustgettingstarted,”thewrinkledoldmansaidwithadevioussmile.

“No!”Isaid.“I’vegottogethometomywife.She’sprobablyworriedsick.”

“Youliketoeat,right?”theoldmansaid.

“Eat?Whatonearthareyoutalkingabout?”

“Stayfordinner,”theoldmansaid.

“Dinner?”Isnapped.“YouneedtotellmehowIgetbackhome.Now!”

Theoldmanstood.“Allingoodtime.Fornow,shineyourshoesandgetyour

Theoldmanstood.“Allingoodtime.Fornow,shineyourshoesandgetyoursuitpressed.And,dearLord,borrowatiefromDr.Conwell.Theoneyouownishideous.”

*

IhurriedtothemainpassengercarandfoundFlorenceandDr.Conwelldeepinconversation.“Sorrytointerrupt,”Isaid.

“WewerejustdiscussingFlorence’sfutureasanauthorandlecturer,”Dr.Conwellsaid.“Youmustadmit,Florencegavequiteanimpressivetalk.Ibelievepeoplewereasenthusiasticoverherwordsastheywereformine,andshewasn’tevenprepared!”

“Thatisnotentirelytrue,”Florenceinterjected.“Ihavealwaysfeltanopportunitytospeakwouldonedaypresentitself,andwhenitdidIwasdeterminedtobeprepared.”

“Sothespeechyougave,youhaditprepared?”

“OfcourseIdid,”Florencesaidbeaming.“Everyoneshouldhaveafewwordspreparedincasetheneedshouldarise.”

“Bravo!”Conwellexclaimed.“Youhavejustprovenmybeliefthatwhenopportunityknocks,onemustbepreparedtoopenthedoor.”

IfeltatingeofjealousyatalltheattentionbeingpaidtoFlorence.“Well,asmuchasI’dliketostayandchat,I’vegottogetreadyforourbigdinnertonight,”Isaid.“Dr.Conwell,woulditbeokayifIhadsomecleaningchargesputonyouraccount?I’llpayyouback.”

“Ofcourse,Christopher,”Conwellsaid.

“Dinner?”Florenceasked.“AreDr.ConwellandIinvited?”

IrealizedIwastakingachance,notknowingwhattheoldwrinkledmanhadinmind,butspokeupanyway.“Ofcourseyou’reinvited.”

“Whattimeshouldwebeready?”Florenceasked.

“Seveno’clocksharp,”Isaid.“And,Dr.Conwell—canIborrowoneofyourneckties?”

*

Weweresittinginthepassengercar,Florenceinalongpurplegownadornedwithwhitelaceandwhiteglovesthatwentpastherelbows,andmeinmyblackwoolsuitandoneofDr.Conwell’sneckties.

“Doyoubelieveinthoughtmanifestation?”Florenceasked.

“Youmeanlikehavingtheabilitytoturnthoughtsintothings?”Iasked.

“Yes!Precisely!”Florencesaid.“Haveyoueverwitnessedit?”

“I’mnotsure,”Isaid.

“Ihave,”Florencesaid.

“Really?”

“Ofcourse,”Florencesaid.“Iwitnessitvirtuallyeveryday.”

“Givemeanexample,”Isaid.

“Iwouldthinkmybestexamplewouldbeyou,Christopher,”Florencesaid.

“Me?”

“Yes,you,”Florencesaid.“Yousee,yesterday—asIboardedthetrain—Icreatedapictureinmymind.AnddoyouknowwhatIpictured?”

Ishookmyhead.

“Ipicturedyou,Christopher,”shesaid.“Imanifestedyouwithmythoughts!Ibelievethatishowyouendeduphereonthistrain.Doyounotsee?”

Istayedquiet.

“WhenIsayImanifestedyou,whatImeanisthatIcreatedtheimageofmeetingsomeonewhowouldhelpmedecidethedirectionofmyfuture,”Florencesaid.“AndthenIheldthatpictureinmymind’seye—neverlettinggoofitforasecond—withthecompletebeliefthatwhatIwantedwouldpresentitself.”

“That’sprettyweird,”Isaid.

“Areyousayingthatyoudonotbelieveme?”Florenceasked.

“No,it’sjustthatIwasstartingtobelievethatIhadmanifestedyou,”Isaid

withalaugh.“BothyouandDr.Conwell,thetrain,andeverythingelse.”

“Whoknows,Christopher,perhapsyouhave,”Florencesaid.“Perhapsweareall—eachandeveryoneofus—manifestingwhatwewantatalltimes,withtheresultofourcollectivebeingtheworldthatsurroundsus.”

Itsoundedcrazy,butwhynot?WitheverythingI’dbeenthroughduringthelastfewdays,Iknewthatanythingwaspossible.

Dr.Conwellthenenteredthetraincar,smartlydressedinawhitedinnerjacketandblackslacks,ablackbowtie,andblackpatentleathershoes.“Sowhendoesthisdinnerofyoursbegin?”heaskedasheapproachedthetwoofus.

Itwasagoodquestion.

IonlywishedIhadananswer.

“Peoplemightnotgetalltheyworkforinthisworld,buttheymustcertainlyworkforallthey

get.”–FrederickDouglass

TrackSeventeen:

TheInvitationThatWasn’t

Dr.ConwellandFlorenceweregettingfrustrated,andIdidn’tblamethemintheleast.Almosttwohourshadpassedandnothinghadhappened.

Thewholethingwasmakingmecrazy.

“Thisisthatoldman’sfault!”Ihuffed.

ConwellandFlorenceexchangedglancesasIsteppedoutontherearplatformofthetraintogetsomeair.WhenIreturnedfiveminuteslater,IfoundDr.ConwellandFlorencewaitingformewithsomberlooksontheirfaces.

“What’swrong?”Iasked.

Conwellclearedhisthroat.“Therailwayporterjustdeliveredinvitationstoaformaldinnerpartybeingheldbymyoldfriend,PhineasBarnum,tobeheldinhisprivaterailcar.”

“Phineas?”Iasked.

“PhineasTaylorBarnum,”Florencesaid.

Ittookamomentformetorealizewhattheyweretalkingabout,andthenithitme.“Areyousayingwe’vebeeninvitedtohavedinnerwithP.T.Barnum?”

“Notexactly,”Florencesaid.

“Itseemsthereareonlytwoinvitations,Christopher,”Dr.Conwellsaidinasubduedtone.“Oneformyself,andasecondinvitationforFlorence.”

“I…Idon’tunderstand,”Istammered.

“Ifitisofanyconsolation,”Conwellsaid,“theonlyreasonwewereinvitedwasbecauseP.T.heardFlorenceandIgiveourtalksearlier.”

“That’strue,Christopher,”Florencesaid.“IamquitesureIwouldnothavebeenincludedhadInotagreedtospeak.”

“Wow!”Isaid,tryingtosoundhappyforFlorence,whilesecretlyseethingandtryingtohidemyanger.

“Dr.Conwellaskedifwemightbeabletobringafriendalong,”Florencecontinued,“butapparentlythereisonlyroomforsixseatsatthedinnertable.”

continued,“butapparentlythereisonlyroomforsixseatsatthedinnertable.”

“Six?Whoaretheotherthree?”Iasked,thinkingitwasimpossibletofeelanyworsethanIalreadydid.

Iwaswrong.

“TheotherthreeguestswillbeJamesBailey,FrederickDouglassandAndrewCarnegie,”Conwellsaid.

Iknewinstantlywhoeachofthemwere,ofcourse.

JamesBaileywasP.T.Barnum’sbusinesspartner.

FrederickDouglasswasanescapedslave-turned-statesmanwho’dbecomeoneofthemostimportantAfrican-Americansofhistime.

AndAndrewCarnegiewastherichestmanintheworld—atleastinthistime.

IknewthatDr.ConwellandFlorencefeltbadforme,buttheycouldn’tpossiblyhavefeltasbadasIdid.Butmorethanthat,IwasconfusedastowhythewrinkledoldmantoldmetogetmysuitpressedforadinnerpartyheknewIwasnotgoingtobeinvitedto.

TrackEighteen:

TheGreatestPartyonEarth

Thankyouforthegenerousinvitation,Mr.Barnum,”Florencesaid.“YourPullmancarissimplystunning!”

“Kindofyoutosay,”Barnumsaid.

Sharplydressedinacharcoal-graytailcoatwithblacksatinlapelsandawhiteembroideredwaistcoat,P.T.BarnumwaseverybittheshowmanFlorenceexpected.“Idecoratedtheinteriormyself,”Barnumsaidwithpride.

ParttastefulVictorian,part1880’schic,andpartoutlandishgaudiness,theinteriorofBarnum’sPullmancarwaslikeacarnivalonwheels.

Thefloorswerecoveredinexpensiveorientalrugs,withfurnituremadeofpolishedmahoganyandrichupholstery.AndthenthereweretheunexpecteddetailsthathadP.T.Barnumwrittenalloverthem,includingalargeglassjarcontainingwhatappearedtobeaseveredhumanarmpreservedinformaldehyde,astuffedalpacawearingaMexicansombrero,andatribalthronefromAfricamadeoflacquereddeerantlers.

“IagreewithyouMissScovel,”JamesBaileycalledoutfromthebarashepouredhimselfaglassofScotch.“IthinkitfairtosaythatP.T.’srailcarrivalssomeofthebesthotelroomsintheworld.”

UnlikeBarnum,JamesBailey’sappearancewasquiteunderstated.Themanwascladinagreentwo-piecewool-tweedsuitoverastarchedwhiteshirtandablacksilknecktie.

“TryasImighttoreininP.T.’sspending,hehassparednoexpenseondécor.”

“NoneedtodisparagemesimplybecauseIrefusetobecomeatightfistedpenny-pincherlikeyou!”Barnumcalledtohispartner.

RussellConwellsteppedforwardandofferedhishand.“Goodtoseeyou,Phineas.LetmesayhowmuchMissScovelandIappreciatetheinvitation.”

“Yes,Conwell,it’sbeenfartoolong,”Barnumsaid.“HaditnotbeenforyourtalkfromtherearofthetraininHarrisburg,noneofuswouldhaveevenknownyouwereaboardthetrain.”

youwereaboardthetrain.”

“Arewetounderstandyouaretopublishanewbook?”Baileyasked.

“Yes,”Conwellsaid.“ItistobecalledAcresofDiamonds,aswillbemylecturefromthispointforward.”

“Amuchbettertitle,”P.T.Barnumsaid.“Whatwereyoucallingit?”

“TheAliHafedStory,”Conwellsaid.

“Yes,simplydreadful,”Barnumsaid.“Speakingoflectures,mightIsaythatwasonewonderfultalkyougave,MissScovel.”

“Thankyou,Mr.Barnum,”Florencesaid.“MightIaskwhereourotherguestsare?”

“Carnegieisbeingfashionablylate,asusual,”Baileysaid.“AndIfeartheconventionhascausedFrederickabitoffatigue.”

“ItwouldbequiteanhonortomeetMr.Douglass,”Florencesaid.“Idosohopehe’llmakeanappearance.”

“I’msurehe’sjusttakingawell-deservedrest,”Barnumsaid.“He’llshowupeventually.”

“SpeakingofFrederickDouglass,wasn’tthatthedamnedestthing?”JamesBaileysaid.“Imagine,theideaofablackmangettingavoteattheRepublicanPresidentialConvention.”

“Indeed!”Barnumreplied.“Firstblackmanevertodoso.”

“Ifeveramandeservedsuchanhonor—black,whiteorotherwise—itisFrederickDouglass,”Conwellsaidinagreement.

“AtoastthentoFredrickDouglass!”JamesBaileysaid,raisinghisglassofScotchandthenrealizingthatneitherConwellnorFlorencehadbeenoffereddrinks.“Whereeveraremymanners?WhatcanIpourforyouboth?”

“Nothingforme,”Conwellsaid.

“Notanotherteetotaler,”Baileysaid.

“Iamafraidso,”Conwellsaid.“Butdonotletmyabstinencestopyoufromimbibingwhateveryouwish.”

“Goodman,Conwell!”Barnumbellowed.“Istoppeddrinkingspiritslongago,andamdamngladIdid!”

“Thatisallverywellandgood,gentlemen,butIwouldverymuchlikeaglass

“Thatisallverywellandgood,gentlemen,butIwouldverymuchlikeaglassofredwine,”Florencesaid.

“Excellent,”JamesBaileysaid.“Ijustnowopenedabottleof1879Lafite-RothschildCabernet.”

“DearGod,”Barnumsnorted.“Anotherperfectlyoperativemindontheroadtodestruction.Youdorealizetheactofmoney-makingrequiresamantohaveaclearbrainandtheabilitytoseethattwoandtwomakefour?Andareyouevenofage?”

“Ishouldthinkseventeentobeoldenoughforaglassofwine,”Florencesaid.“Besides,Ihavegrownupinahomewithprogressiveparentswhowouldthinknothingofit.Theytrustmeenoughtotravelunaccompanied—doyounotthinktheywouldtrustmeenoughtosipaglassofGod’snectar?Andregardingtheactofmoney-making,therearemanythingsthataffectaman’sabilitytodoso,butcertainlyyouhavenoticedIamawoman.”

“ThatwillteachyoutotanglewithFlorence,”Conwellsaid.

“Crackwiseallyouwish,MissScovel,butIcontendthatnoman—orwoman—canmoveuptheladderofsuccesswithoutaclearmindtogivereasontotheirplans.”

“Excusemybusinesspartner,Florence,”Baileysaid,handingheralong-stemmedcrystalglassofredwine.“Phineasistotallyconvincedone’sjudgmentiswarpedbyanintoxicatingdrink—aconceptIdrinktodaily.”

“Thereisnoneedtogetintoatwist,Mr.Barnum,”Florencesaid,raisingherglassandtakingasip.“Asocialdrinkisofnoharmtoanyperson.”

“Ah!Yousay!Yethowmanygoodopportunitieshavepassed,nevertoreturn,whileapersonsatsippingasocialglasswithafriend?”Barnumasked.

“Ifthisishowyoutreatyourguests,Mr.Barnum,onemustwonderhowyoubehavewhenentertainingyourenemies,”Florencesaid.“PerhapsthedifferencebetweenusisthatIknowwhentosetmyglassdown,whileyoudonot.”

“ThisisthefutureI’vebeentellingyouabout,gentlemen,”Barnumsaid.

“Oh?Andwhatfuturemightthatbe?”RussellConwellasked.

“Theoneinwhichwomenhavetakenchargeofcommerce,andwemenaresentofftowashthedishes,”Barnumsaid.

“Jokeasyouwish,Mr.Barnum,butbeingawomaninaman’sworldisfarmoredifficultthanyoumightimagine.Itrequiresthatshethinklikeaman,actlikealady,andlooklikeayounggirl—allwhileworkinglikeadog.”

likealady,andlooklikeayounggirl—allwhileworkinglikeadog.”

Theroomwentquietenoughtohearapindrop,andthenallthreemenbrokeintouproariouslaughter.

“Yourwordisyourwand.Thewordsyouspeakcreateyourowndestiny.”

–FlorenceScovelShinn

TrackNineteen:

AndrewCarnegie

HaveImissedthejoke?”AndrewCarnegiesaidloudlyfromthedoorwayoftherailcar.

Dressedinablackwaistcoat,withhisfullbeardhanginglowonhischestandablackbowlerhatperchedontopofhishead,thelargemanimmediatelybecamethecenterofattention.

“Ah,Andrew!”Barnumsaid.“Beforewarned,youngFlorencehereisnottobetrifledwith.”

“DearGod,donottellmeyouhaveinvitedafeministtodinner?”CarnegiesaidashemadehiswayacrosstherailcartoFlorenceandextendedhishand.“Florence,isit?”

“FlorenceScovel,”Florencereplied.“Apleasuretomeetyou,Mr.Carnegie,andtothedegreeIamafeminist,itisonlybecauseitisrequiredofmetofulfillmydestiny.”

“Andwhatdestinymightthatbe?”JamesBaileyasked.

“Toteachwomenthatlifeisagame,oneofboomerangsinwhichourthoughts,deeds,andwordsreturntoussoonerorlaterwithastoundingaccuracy,”Florencesaid.

“Worsethanafeminist,”AndrewCarnegiesnorted.“Thisyoungladyisarabble-rousingnewthoughtspiritualist.”

“IshouldthinkFlorencetakesthatasacompliment,”Conwellsaid,extendinghishandtoCarnegie.

“Adiscipleofyoursnodoubt,eh,Conwell?”AndrewCarnegiesaidashetookConwell’shandandshookit.

“Jesushaddisciples,Carnegie,”Conwellsaid.“Imerelyhavefriends,andFlorencehereisagoodoneindeed.”

“Pleaseignoremybluster,MissScovel,”Carnegiesaid.“Ihavenothingagainstanywomanwhowishestoplayinthebusinessworld,providingsheisalsowell-behavedinthehome.”

“Well-behavedwomenrarelymakehistory,Mr.Carnegie,”Florencesaid.“Theymakedinner.”

“Iwarnedyou,Carnegie!”Barnumsnorted.“IfyouwishtotanglewithFlorence,dosoatyourownrisk.”

“ImeannodisrespecttoMissScovel,”Carnegiesaid.“Butyoumustunderstand,myattituderegardingawoman’svaluecomesfromyearsintherough-and-tumbleworldofoilderricksandsteelmills.Andintheseendeavors,Isuggest,nowomancouldeverhopetosucceed.”

Florencesmiledbeforeresponding.“Thatisfascinating,Mr.Carnegie.Dotellme,howmanywomenhaveyouhiredtotestthistheoryofyours?”

“Verywell,Igiveup!”Carnegieexclaimed.

*

Tenminuteslater,disguisedasatuxedoedwaiter,IpushedaservicecartintoP.T.Barnum’srailcar.“Excuseme,wherewouldyoulikemetoplacethehorsd’oeuvres?”

“Inthedrawingroom,please,”Baileyresponded.

“Whilethefoodisbeingset,comelookatmylatestcuriosity—ashrunkenheadthatwaspurchasedfromatribesmanontheislandofBorneo,”Barnumsaidasherosetohisfeet.

Havingnointerestinseeingashrunkenhead,Florencewenttothedrawingroomtoperusethemagnificentspreadofappetizers,includingliverpateandtoastpoints,belugacaviar,steamedmussels,jumboshrimpwithcocktailsauce,cracked-wheatcrackers,andminiaturecroissantswithassortedjelliesandjams.

“Thislooksmagnificent!”Florencesaid.Butwhenshelookedup,hereyeswentwideandhermouthfellopen.Thewaiterwasn’tjustanywaiter—itwasme.

“Christopher?”Florencewhispered.“Whatonearthareyoudoinghere?”

“Whatdoesitlooklike?I’mservingappetizers,”Isaid.

“Icanseethat,”Florencehissed.“Wheredidyougetthatuniform?”

“Ihighlyrecommendtheshrimp,”Isaid,ignoringherquestion.“Ihadthreeofthemonthewayover,butstayawayfromthecocktailsauce—toomuch

ofthemonthewayover,butstayawayfromthecocktailsauce—toomuchhorseradish.”

“Didyoustealit?”Florenceaskedinasternvoice.

“No,Florence,Ididnotstealit.”

“Thenpraytell,how…”

“Itradedmycellphoneforit,”Isaidwithagrin,proudofmyresourcefulness.“Imean,thebatteryisdead.Andsincetheguywon’tbeabletogetareplacementforaboutahundredyears,Ifigurethefutureissafeenough.”

Justthen,RussellConwellenteredthedrawingroomandwalkedovertoFlorence.“Notinterestedinshrunkenheads,Florence?IadmitthatI,too,findsuchthings—”

Conwellstoppedspeakingmid-sentencewhenhesawme.“Christopher?”hestammered.

“Desperatetimesrequiredesperatemeasures,”Isaid.

Florencewasnotamused.“ItseemsthatChristopherbelievesthesolutiontohissituationrequiresengaginginanactofsubterfuge.”

Iwasn’thavinganyofit.

“Listen,I’msupposedtobehere!”Isaidabittooloudly.“Youknowhowyousaidthatweallmanifesttheworldaroundus,Florence?Well—ifyou’reright—thenImanifestedthis.AndifImanifestedit,thenthere’sgottobeareason,right?”

Iplacedthefinalplatesonthetableandclosedthecart.

“Whatisyourplan,Christopher?”Conwellasked.

“I’mnotsure,”Isaid.“ButI’lltrytohaveitfiguredoutbythetimeIcomebackwithdinner.”

TrackTwenty:

ThePurposeofWealth

MostpeoplewouldhaveconsideredP.T.Barnum’sdinnerpartyaneveningoffunandmerriment.Florence,ontheotherhand,consideredhertimewiththeseamazingmenanadvancedcourseinsuccessfulliving.Thisbeingthecase,shedirectedtheconversationasquicklyasshecouldtowardthetopicsshewasmostinterestedin.

“SinceIfindmyselfsurroundedbygentlemenofsuchachievement,IthinkitawastedopportunitywereInottoinquireastoyourpersonalattitudesonwealth,”Florencestarted.

“Wealth?Oneneedonlylookaroundthisveryinstanttoknowmyansweronthesubject,”P.T.Barnumsaid.“Yougainwealthasquicklyasyoucan,andthenensureeverypennyofitisspentbeforetheylayyouinthegrave.”

“Iamnotsosureaboutthespendingaspect,forIammuchmorekeenongiving,”Conwellsaid,“butIdoconcurwhenitcomestoobtainingwealth.Iwillgosofarastocontenditisnotonlyablessingtoobtainwealth,itiseveryman’sdutytodoso.”

“Here!Here!”JamesBaileysaid,raisinghisglass.“Tothedutyofobtainingwealth.”

“Andyou,Mr.Carnegie?”Florenceasked.“Asyouaretherichestmanintheworld,Iimagineyouhavestrongopinionsonthematter.”

“Youflatterme,MissScovel,butthisverymorningthepapersgavethetitleofrichestmantoMr.Rothschild,”Carnegiesaid.“Thedistinctionbetweenus,ofcourse,isthateverypennyofmywealthmadeitswayintomycoffersbythesweatofmybrowandblistersonmyowntwohands.Mr.Rothschild,ontheotherhand,inheritedhisfortune—anactIconsidertobenothingshortofstealing.”

“Here!Here!”JamesBaileyproclaimed,raisinghisglassagain.“Tohardworkandblisters!”

“Soitistheactofhardworkthatmakestheman?”Florenceasked,aneyebrowraisedinskepticism.

“Ofcourseitis,”Carnegiesnapped.“Doyounotagree?”

“Ofcourseitis,”Carnegiesnapped.“Doyounotagree?”

“RemembertheproverbofSolomon?”P.T.Barnuminterjected.“Hebecomethpoorthatdealethwithslackofhand,butthehandofthediligentmakethrich.”

“Solomonwasawiseman,onewhomostcertainlyengagedintheactionoflabor,”Florencesaid.“ButIhaveseentoomanymenwithbrokenbacks,yearsspentlaboringbehindtheplow—orshovelingoreintothefurnacesinyoursweatshops,Mr.Carnegie—yetIcanseenowealththathascometheirwayfromsuchslavery.Iseeonlythesadnessofliveswastedinstatesofdeepmisery.”

“IfFrederickwerehere,Ibelievehewouldconcur,”Conwellsaid.“Asaslavewhopushedaplowandpickedcottoninthesummersun,Iimaginehewouldagreetheaccumulationofwealthisnotindirectproportiontothesweatthatflowsfromthebrow.”

JamesBaileyraisedhisglassforanothertoast,thenstoppedhimself.Toastingslaveryseemedratherinappropriate.

“Verywell,”Carnegiesaid.“Iconcedethathardworkisnottheonlywaytowealth.AsIpointedout,onecanalwaysinheritit.”

“IamquitecertainFlorenceisthinkingthereisanotherkeynotyetdiscussed,”Conwellsaid.“Florence?”

“Yes,”Florencesaid,takinghercue.“Ibelievethekeytorichesismoreofamentalendeavorthanaphysicalone.”

“Thinkingdoesn’tmovetheplow,”Carnegiesaid.

“Icontendthat,forthegreatestnumberofpeople,thedoorstowealtharelockedbecausetheythinkthemselvesunworthyoftheabundancethatisrightfullytheirs,”Florencesaid.

“Amisguidednotionifevertherewasone,whichIshallchalkuptoyouryouth,”Carnegiesaid.

“Bestwatchyourself,Carnegie,”P.T.Barnumsaid.“Florencemaybeyoung,butdareIsaysheisbeyondheryearswhenitcomestothetopicofattainingwealth.”

“Ah!Wewerejustspeakingofyou,Douglass,”Barnumsaid.

EveryonestoodasFrederickDouglass—resplendentlydressedinapurplevelvetwaistcoat,white-starchedshirtwithastand-upcollar,blacksilkcravat,gray-stripedtrousers,andblackboots—enteredtherailcar.

gray-stripedtrousers,andblackboots—enteredtherailcar.

“Ourman,Douglass,risenfromthedead,”Baileysaid.

“IfearedImayhaveoverslept,butIseethatisnotthecase,”FrederickDouglasssaid,takingtheonlyemptychairatthetable.

“Tothecontrary,oldchap,yourtimingseemstobeperfect,”BarnumsaidasthedoortothePullmancarswungopenagainandtwotuxedoedwaiterspushedservicecartsintotheroom.

FlorenceandDr.Conwellexchangedknowingglancesandheldtheirbreath.

Sureenough,thesecondofthetwowaiterswasexactlywhotheyexpected.

*

“Wewereinthethroesofadeepdiscussionwhenyouarrived,”CarnegiesaidtoFrederickDouglass.“Caretojoinin?”

“MayIaskthetopic?”Douglassasked.

“Iwassharingmybeliefthatthethoughtsoneholdswithinthemindaretheessentialelementtoacquiringwealth,”Florencesaid.

“Yes,andIwasexplainingtoyoungMissScovelherethatdispensingsuchmisguideddriveltoanunsuspectingpublicbordersonmotivationalmalpractice,”Carnegieadmonished.

“Ifindthistopicinterestingindeed,”Douglasssaid.“Tellmemoreofyourtheory,MissScovel.”

Florencewastednotime.“Itismybeliefthateverygreatwork,everylargeaccomplishment,hasbeenbroughtintomanifestationbyholdingontoavisioncreatedinthemindoftheachiever.”

“Ithinktheyoungladymaybeontosomething,”Barnumsaid.

“Please,Phineas,donotencouragetheyounglass,”Carnegieimplored.

“Now,IamnotsayingthissimplytopropyoungFlorenceup,”Barnuminsisted.“IsayitbecauseIknowittobetrue.EverythingIhaveeverachievedwasindeedcreatedtwice—firstinmymind,andtheninreality.”

“IshouldthinktheBarnum&BaileyCircustobeaperfectexample,”JamesBaileysaid.“IrememberthedayP.T.cametomewiththeideaforthethree

Baileysaid.“IrememberthedayP.T.cametomewiththeideaforthethreerings,andItellyouitwasnothingmorethanthat—anidea—acreationwithintheconfinesofP.T.’simagination.Onlythendidtheideacomeintoexistence.”

“Exactlymypoint,”Florencesaid.“Iseethevisionsofman’screationsasmentalimagesthatprovideaframeworkuponwhichonebeginsbuilding.”

“Likethedrawingsofanarchitect,orthemapsofanexplorer?”Douglassasked.

“Precisely,”Florencesaid.“Itisonlyafterthemapbecomesfirminone’smindthatitcanbecomefirminone’sreality.”

Imovedtheservicecartaroundthetable,settingchinaplatesbeforeeachpersonandfindingmyselffascinatedbytheconversation.IwasalsostartingtogetabitannoyedbyAndrewCarnegie’srudenesstowardFlorence,which,atcertainmoments,borderedonbullying.

“Amanmustdomorethanwishforwealth;hemusttakedecisiveaction,”Carnegiesaid.

“Isaidnothingofwishing,”saidFlorencedefiantly.“Iamsuggestingthatifonewantsabundancetoarrive,theymustexpectitasiftheabundancewastheirsalready.Eachpersonhastherighttotheabundancethatistheirsfortheclaiming,buterroneousbeliefsblockthearrivalofthiswealthintheexternalworld.”

“Purehumbug!”Carnegiesnorted.

“Notsoquickly,Carnegie,”RussellConwellsaid,comingtoFlorence’srescue.“Onthismatter,Icompletelyconcur.”

“Certainlyyouarejoking,Conwell,”Carnegiesaid.“IknowyouareamanofGod,butIwouldneverhavetakenyouforsomesortoffrou-frouspiritualist.”

“Allowmetoshareastory,andsincedinnerisuponus,Ishallkeepitbrief,”Conwellsaid.“Oneevening,atoneofmylectures,ayoungmantoldmeanypersonwithmoneymustbedishonest.Irespondedbytellinghimthereasonhehadnomoneywasbecausethefoundationofhisbeliefswerealtogetherfalse—thatmenlikeCarnegiehere—werebyandlargehonestmenwhocamebytheirwealththroughhardworkanddiscipline.Anddoyouknowwhatthisyoungmansaid?”

“Icanonlyimagine,”Carnegiesaid.

“HesaidhehatedthelikesoftheCarnegiesandtheRockefellerssogreatlythathewasthankfultoGodforhavingmadehimpoor!Well,Idonotwishto

thathewasthankfultoGodforhavingmadehimpoor!Well,IdonotwishtoseemoreofthatkindofGod’spooronthestreets,notwhenthatmancouldhavebeenrichjustaseasily.”

“Thismanofwhomyouspeak,”Carnegiesaid.“Hisopinionsofmeareofnointerest,astheyhavenoimpactonmyabilitytoaccumulatewealth.”

“Youaremissingthepointentirely,Mr.Carnegie,”Florencesaid.“Theyoungman’sopinionsofyouarenotthelocksonthedoortoyourwealth—theyarethelocksonthedoortohisabundance.”

“Well,good,Isay!”Carnegiebellowed.“Thelessthismanhas,themorethatcanbeaccumulatedbyme.”

“Myheartweepsforyou,Carnegie,”FredrickDouglasssaid.“Haveyounotyetdiscoveredthatitistheactofgivingthatopensthewayforreceiving?IprayforyourlastactonthisEarthtobeoneofgiving.”

“AndIpraymylastactonthisEarthwillbetheaccumulationofanotherdollar,”Carnegiesaid.“OnewhichIintendtotaketothegravewithme.”

ThatwaswhenIlostit.

“Amanwhoacquirestheabilitytotakefullpossessionofhisownmindmaytakepossessionofanythingelsetowhichheisjustlyentitled.”

–AndrewCarnegie

TrackTwenty-One:

MySeatattheTable

AndrewCarnegie’sbullyingattacksonFlorencehadfinallydrivenmetothepointwhereIfounditimpossibletostaysilentaminutelonger.

“Thenwhydidyougiveitallaway?”Isaidloudlyenoughthateveryheadatthetableturnedandlookedinmydirection.

“Areyouaddressingme?”AndrewCarnegieasked.

Florenceshotmeawildlook.

“IfImight—”Dr.Conwellbegan.

“Thanks,Dr.Conwell,butI’vegotthis,”Isaid,cuttinghimoff.Itookadeepbreath,turnedtoAndrewCarnegie,andcontinued.“Yes,Mr.Carnegie,Iamaddressingyou.WhatyoujustsaidaboutyourlastactonEarthbeingtomakeanotherdollarandtakeittothegravewithyou?Well,that’snotwhatyouendupdoing.”

“Conwell,isthisaprankofyourdoing?”Carnegiesnapped.“Oryou,Barnum?”

Barnumshruggedandremainedsilent.

“Christopher,pleaseallowmetoexplain,”Conwellsaid.

“Ifyouknowthisman,Conwell,thenexplain—”

“MynameisChristopherPowers,andDr.Conwellhasnothingtodowiththis,”Isaid,takingoffthewhitetuxedoandbowtie.“Idon’texpectyoutobelieveawordofwhatI’mabouttotellyou,butithastodowithyourmoney.”

“Mymoney?Whatcouldawaiterpossiblyknow—?”

“I’mnotawaiter,Mr.Carnegie,”Isaidinterrupting,“andIknowagreatdealaboutyourmoney,startingwiththeassertionthatyou’regoingtotakeitallwithyou—it’sjustnottrue.Themillionsyou’vespentsomuchofyourlifehoarding,well—youchangeyourmindandyougiveitallaway—tolibrariesandcollegesandtofundtheCarnegieMellonUniversityandCarnegieHall.”

AndrewCarnegieshottohisfeet.“Thiscarnivalactofyours,youngman,Iamnotamusedwithitatall.Andtheinstitutionsofwhichyouspeakdonoteven

amnotamusedwithitatall.Andtheinstitutionsofwhichyouspeakdonotevenexist.”

“Theywill,”Isaid.

“Youbetterlistentohim,Andrew,”Conwellsaid.

“Yes,youmustbelievehim!”Florencesaidjumpingin.

“Iamnotsayinganyofthistoamuseyou,sir,”Isaidinascalmatoneaspossible,thoughmyheartwaspoundingoutofmychest.“I’mtellingyouthistoletyouknowthatwhatMr.Douglasssaidearlieristrue—theactofgivingisthethingthatopensthewayforreceiving—andyouwilleventuallyseeit’strueandfindmorejoygivingyourmoneyawaythanyoueverdidearningit.”

CarnegiestormedtothePullmancardoor.“Iwillendurethisnolonger!”Thenheslammedthedoorhardbehindhim.Otherthanthesoundofmyrapidbreathing,itwassoquietyoucouldhaveheardaproverbialpindrop.

“Whatdidyousayyournamewas?”P.T.Barnumasked.

“Thisismyfriend,ChristopherPowers,”RussellConwellsaid,pattingmeontheback.“HeistheyoungmanwhoprovidedmewiththetitleformyAcresofDiamondstalk.”

“What’smore,Christopherisfromthefuture,”Florencesaidinahushedtone.

“Idonotunderstandhowheknowssuchthings,”JamesBaileysaid,“butwhetherthisyoungmanisfromthefutureornot,wehavejustwitnessedanenormouslybravedisplayofheart.DearLord,thenumberoftimesIwantedtogiveCarnegieatasteofhisownmedicine.”Baileyraisedhisglassandsaid,“ToChristopher!Amanofcourage!”

“Iamanequalbelieverthatfortunefavorsthebrave,”FrederickDouglasssaid,raisinghisglass,withDr.Conwell,FlorenceandP.T.Barnumdoingthesame.

“IfIamnotmistaken,Phineas,itappearsasifaseatatthetablehasjustcomeavailable,”Conwellsaid.

“Indeedithas,”P.T.Barnumsaid.“Christopher,Idonotsupposeyouwouldcaretojoinus?”

“Allhumanbeingscanaltertheirlivesbyalteringtheirattitudes.Doyourduty,andalittlemore,andthefuturewilltakecareofitself.”

–AndrewCarnegie

TrackTwenty-Two:

VoicesoftheDead

ThenexttwohoursinP.T.Barnum’srailcarwasanon-stopbarrageofquestionsaboutthefuture.

“Whatyouhavesharedisbeyondbelief,”P.T.Barnumsaid,“yetIhavenodoubtthatyouhavespokenthetruth.”

“WereitnotforConwell’sendorsementofthelad,IamunsureifIwouldgivethesefantasticalclaimsanycredence,”JamesBaileysaid.“Quiteamazingandyetdisconcerting.”

“Yes,thatisthewordIhavebeensearchingfor,”FrederickDouglasssaid.“Verydisconcerting.IfeelthatifGodintendedforustoknowoftheseevents,Hewouldspeakhisplanstousdirectly.”

“Inanycase,”RussellConwellsaid,“wemusteachrememberourpledgetogotothegravewithoutsharingawordofwhathasbeensaidheretoanotherlivingsoul.”

“Iagree,”P.T.Barnumsaid.“Whatwehavebeenprivytomustgonofurtherthanthistrain.”

“Agreed,”Baileysaid,raisinghisglassonceagain.

“Youhavemywordonit,”Florencesaid.“Yet,itismybeliefthatwehaveallbeenchangedthroughtheknowingofthesethings,whetherwespeakofthemornot.”

Asenseofreliefwashedovermeas,onebyone,eachpersonnoddedtheirheadsinagreement.Atthesametime,IfearedFlorencemightwellhavebeenright.Tellingthemaboutthefuturemayhavebeentheringingofabellthatcouldneverbeun-rung.

*

Afterdesserthadbeenservedbytheotherwaiter,aphotographerarrivedwith

alargeantiquebox-cameraonatripod—atleastthecamerawasanantiquetome.

“Ah,Eakins!”JamesBaileyexclaimedasthephotographerenteredtherailcar.“Everyone,thisisThomasEakins.Hedoesthemostmarvelousphotographs,andIhaveengagedhimtomakeoneofusall.”

“ToobadforCarnegie,”P.T.Barnumsaidwithalaugh.

“Trueenough,buthislossisourgain,”JamesBaileysaid,wavingmeovertojointhegroup.

“No,that’sokay,”Isaid.Afterall,Iwasn’tevensupposedtobethere.

“Nonsense,”Baileysaid.“YoutookAndrew’sseatatthetableand,byGod,youshalltakehisspotinthisphotographicimage.”

Welinedup,thesixofus—Dr.Conwellonthefarleft,followedbyFrederickDouglass,myself,Florence,P.T.Barnum,andJamesBaileyonthefarright—eachofusholdingourfacialexpressionsasstillaspossible.Iwassoexcitedtohavebeenincluded,Imadethemistakeofsmilingbroadly,forcedtoholdtheposetheentiretime.

IttookThomasEakinsfifteenminutestocompletetheelaboratephotographicprocess,whichinvolvedlargesilverplatesandlight-sensitivesilveriodide.Theexperiencemademeappreciatethemanyinventionsofthelastcenturyevenmore.

“Iknowit’sgettinglate,”IsaidonceThomasEakinshadgone,“butifyoudon’tmind,Ihaveafewquestionsofmyown.”

“Questionsforus?”P.T.Barnumasked.“Whatcouldwepossiblyknowthatwouldnotbecomeantiquatedbeforethedayyouwereborn?”

“Notaboutevents,”Isaid.“Myquestionsareaboutbeliefs—thebeliefsandbehaviorsyouhaveusedtoachieveyoursuccess,whichIwouldthinkareprettymuchtimeless.”

“Verywell,then,”P.T.Barnumsaid.“Letmebeginbyadmittingthat—likeCarnegie—ithasalwaysbeenmyaimtoputmoneyinmycoffers.However,unlikeAndrew,Ihavesufferedmanyeconomicreversals.Andevenundertheweightofcrushingfailureandmassivedebt,Ihavealwaysfoundmeanstoremainhappyandgrateful.”

“Icanattesttothat,”Baileysaid.“P.T.believesthenoblestartisthatofmakingothershappy.”

makingothershappy.”

Barnumsmiled,appreciativeofthecompliment.“Promotingone’swaresisasimpleprocesscomprisedoftwosteps;thefirstistofindoutwhattheotherpersonwants,andthesecondistoprovideittothem.”

“Ifearyouarebeingtoomodest,Phineas,”RussellConwellsaid.“DonotforgetthatyoungChristopherhereisseekingthetruthaboutyoursuccess,andyouhaveminimizedyourtruestrengths.”

“Yes,Mr.Barnum,pleaseexpanduponyourthoughts,”Florencesaid.

“Verywell,”Barnumsaid.“Ishalladdthatonemustbeconstantlywillingtoblowone’sownhorn,foratthecoreofeverysuccessfulendeavoristheactofpromotion.Andmakenomistake—withoutpromotion,somethingterriblehappens…andthatsomethingisnothing.”

“Yoursuccessisbeyondremarkable,Mr.Barnum,”Florencesaidafterthelaughterdiedaway,“butIdohaveabonetopickwithyou.”

Barnumarchedhiseyebrows.“Andwhatbonemightthatbe,MissScovel?”

“Itisinregardstoyourbeliefthatallspiritualistsarefrauds,”Florencesaid.

“Ah!Ishouldwellhaveknownyouwouldattackmethere,”Barnumsaidwithalaugh.“Don’tgetmewrong,MissScovel,Ihavenoquarrelwithentertainerswhousehypeandhumbugtopromotethemselves,butIhavenothingbutcontemptforso-calledspiritualmediumswhoclaimtheabilitytohearthevoicesofthedead.Tome,suchpeoplearecharlatanswhodeservetobejailed,nothailed.”

“Yes,Ihaveheardofyourstandingoffertopay$500toanyoneprovidingproofoftheabilitytodoso,”Florencesaid.“Andthisoffer,doesitstillstand?”

“Indeeditdoes,”P.T.Barnumsaid.

“Verywellthen,”Florencesaidassherosetoherfeet,crossedtherailcarandpulledabookfromtheshelf.“AllowmetoreadapassagefromVoltaire’sCandide,”Florencesaidbeforebeginningtoreadanexcerpt:

Therewasneveranythingsogallant,sospruce,sobrilliant,andsowelldisposedasthetwoarmies.Trumpets,fifes,hautboys,drums,andcannonmademusicsuchasHellitselfhadneverheard.Thecannonsfirstofalllaidflataboutsixthousandmenoneachside;themusketssweptawayfromthisbestofworldsnineortenthousandruffianswhoinfesteditssurface.Thebayonetwasalsoasufficientreasonforthedeathofseveralthousands.

Thewholemightamounttothirtythousandsouls.Candide,whotrembledlikeaphilosopher,hidhimselfaswellashecouldduringthisheroicbutchery.

Florenceclosedthebook.“IfIamnotmistaken,VoltaireisquitegonefromthisEarth,ishenotMr.Barnum?”

“Heisindeed,”Barnumconceded.

“Andwouldyouconcur,Mr.Barnum,thatwehavejustheardhiswordsfrombeyondthegrave?”Florenceasked.

“Looklikeshehasyou,oldboy!”JamesBaileysaidwithatouchofgleeinhisvoice.

P.T.Barnumstoodandpulledarollofbillsfromhispocket.“Ishallpayyouyourdueforyourcleverness,Ms.Scovel,ononecondition.”

“Andthatconditionbeing…?

“Thatyoupromisetotellnooneofthisloopholeinmyoffer,”P.T.Barnumsaid.

“Thankyou,Mr.Barnum,”Florencesaid.“Butbeforeyoureturnyourbillfold,Ibelieveyoualsoowe$500toourfriendChristopher.”

“ToChristopher?ForwhatdoIowehim?”P.T.Barnumbarked.“Hehasdemonstratednosuchclevertrick.”

“Tothecontrary,”Florencesaid.“Allowmetodothedemonstration,thistimewithclevernessinvolved.”FlorenceturnedtowhereIwassitting.“Christopher,canyouhearmyvoice?”

“Yes,Florence,Ihearyou.”

“Andwhatabouttheothersinthisroom?Haveyoubeenabletohearthemaswell?”

“Yes,Ihave,”Isaid,suddenlyrealizingwhereFlorencewasgoing.

FlorenceturnedbacktoP.T.Barnum.“MayIcontendthateachofusinthisrailcarshallhaveleftthisEarthlyplanelongbeforeChristopherisborn,yethehasheardourvoicesclearly.Inthatway,Mr.Barnum,toChristopherweareallquitedead.”

“Ihopeyouhavedeeppockets,P.T.,”Conwellsaid.“ItseemsthatFlorencehasbestedyouagain.”

“Ifyouwishtobegreat,youmustbeginwhereyouare,andwhatyouare.”

–RussellH.Conwell

TrackTwenty-Three:

P.T.Barnum’sChallenge

Inthespiritofequalplay,Ihaveabonetopickwithyouaswell,MissScovel,”P.T.Barnumsaid.

“Dotell,”Florencesaid.

“Regardingyourbeliefthatonecanturnmentalvisionsintorealthings,”Barnumsaid.“Isityourpositionthatthiscanbeachievedforanythingonewants,largeorsmall?”

“Mostcertainly,”Florencesaid.“Ifonewishesathingbadlyenoughandcanholdthevisionofitinthemind’seyelongenough,itmust—byuniversallaw—manifestintherealworld.”

Barnumnoddedasifinagreement,thencontinued.“Andisityourbeliefthatthisprocesscanbeusedforanyquantityofthingsonewisheswithoutlimit?”

“Ifeelasifyouareexaminingmeduringatrial,”Florencesaid.

“Tothecontrary,MissScovel—Iamnotexaminingyou;Iamexaminingyourtheory,”Barnumsaid.“So,pleaseanswer.”

“Yes,theprocessworksforanyonethingandforanynumberofthings,”Florencesaid.

“ThisiswhereIbelieveyouhaveitwrong,”Barnumsaid.“WhileIamonboardwiththegeneralconcept,Ibelievethereasonmanypersonsarekeptpoorisbecausetheyaretoovisionary.Everyprojectlookstothemlikecertainsuccess,and,therefore,theykeepchangingfromonebusinesstoanother,alwaysinhotwater,alwaysundertheharrow.

“Cloudingone’smindwithvisionsofthisandthat—ofmoreandmoreandevenmoreafterthat—isthefollyoffools!Icontendthatmanyamanhasacquiredafortunebydoingonethingthoroughly,whilehisneighborremainspoorforlifebecausehehas‘halfdone’many.

“WereItobeaskedforthesinglekeytosuccess,mostwouldassumemyanswerwouldbetheartofshowmanshiporthepowerofpromotion,butitisnot,”Barnumsaid.“Myanswerwouldbecontainedinasingleword…”

Evertheshowman,P.T.Barnumpausedforseveralsecondsbeforedelivering

Evertheshowman,P.T.Barnumpausedforseveralsecondsbeforedeliveringtheanswer,andIfoundmyselfontheedgeofmyseat.

“Focus,”Barnumsaidfinally.“ThatistheboneImustpickwithyourtheory,MissScovel.Inmyexperience,successfulmendonotscattertheirpowers—theyfocusononethinganddothatthingwithboldness!Theyengageinonekindofbusinessonly,andsticktoitfaithfullyuntiltheyhavesucceeded,knowingtheconstanthammeringofasinglenailwilldriveithomeatlast.Whenaman’sundividedattentioniscenteredononeobject—andoneobjectalone—themindwillconstantlybesuggestingimprovementsofvaluethatwouldescapehimifadozendifferentsubjectsoccupiedhisbrainatonce.Manyafortunehasslippedthroughaman’sfingersbecausehewasengagedintoomanyoccupationsatatime.”

“Asonewhoagreeswholeheartedlywithyourbeliefs,ImustsaythatP.T.hasmadeagoodcase,Florence,”Dr.Conwellsaid.

“Iagree,”JamesBaileychimedin.“Thereisgoodsenseintheoldcautionagainsthavingtoomanyironsinthefire.”

ThegroupwentsilentandwaitedasFlorenceconsideredherresponse.Finallyshespoke.“Sincemyearliestyears,Ihavebeenpossessedbytwodreams;onetobecomeanartist,andtheothertobeanauthorandlecturerlikeDr.Conwell.AndthoughIbelieveapersoncanmanifestanythingtheywish,personalexperiencesuggestsonecannotmanifesteverythingtheywishallatonceandthatholdingtwogoalsinonemindatthesametimemayindeedbeonegoaltoomany.”

Florenceopenedherpurseandwithdrewthe$500shehadwonfromP.T.Barnumminutesearlier.“Ibelievethisbelongstoyouagain,Mr.Barnum.”

Barnumshookhishead.“Iprefertoinvestthosefundsinyou,Florence,foryouaretherarestofbirds.Ihavenodoubtthatonedayinthefuture—longafterwehaveallpassedandlaystillinourgraves—yourwordswillbeheardbymillions,andtheyshallhelpchangetheworld.”

“Doyoureallybelievethat,Mr.Barnum?”Florenceasked.

“Mostcertainly!”Barnumsaid,turningtohisbusinesspartner.“James,leadusinonelasttoast.”

“Yes,whynot?”Baileysaid,raisinghisglass.“Here’stothecrazyones.Themisfits.Therebels.Totheroundpegsinthesquareholes.Theoneswhoseethingsdifferently!”

Waitasecond,Ithought…

Justthen,AndrewCarnegieappearedintherailcardoorway.“Tothosewhoarenotfondofrules,whohavenorespectforthestatusquo.Youcanquotethem,disagreewiththem,glorifythemorvilifythem…”

Iknowthis…

“…abouttheonlythingyoucan’tdoisignorethem,”FrederickDouglasssaidchimingin.“Becausetheychangethings.Theypushthehumanraceforward.Andwhilesomemayseethemasthecrazyones,weseegenius...”

That’swhenIrealizedeveryonewasrecitingthewordsfromthatfamousAppleTVcommercial,theonetheydidfortheSuperBowlin1984.

“It’stwointhemorning,Christopher,”Conwellsaid.“Cometobed.”

Butitwasn’tConwell’svoicecomingfromhismouth—itwasKatie’s.

Iopenedmyeyesandfoundmyselfonthesofa,thelivingroomdarkexceptfortheTV,andKatiestandingoverme.

“It’stwointhemorning,Christopher,”Katiesaidagain.“Cometobed.”

ThenInoticedthetelevisionwasstillon,theSteveJobsbiographyjustending.

“Thepeoplewhoarecrazyenoughtothinktheycanchangetheworld,”SteveJobssaid,“aretheoneswhodo.”

IreachedoverandturnedofftheTV.

Andthen—sittinginthedarknessbutawakenow,Iknew…

Katiehadn’tsuggestedItakethetrainafterall.

TherehadbeennoticketonTheDiamondLine.

NospeechesinClevelandorHarrisburgfromtherearplatformofthetrain.

NoFrederickDouglass,noFlorenceScovel,nodinnerpartyinP.T.Barnum’sPullmancar.

Noneofitwasreal.

Ithadallbeenadream.

TrackTwenty-Four:

LettingGoOfTheDream

IdidnotblameKatiefornotbelievingme.Afterall,whointheirrightmindwouldbelievethatI’dspentthreedaysona

trainintheyear1888withRussellConwell,P.T.Barnum,JamesBailey,AndrewCarnegie,FrederickDouglassandFlorenceScovel?

AndthemoreIpushed,themoreItriedtogetKatietounderstand—tobelievethatwhatI’dexperiencedwasreal—thecrazierIsounded.SoIdecidedthebestcourseofactionwastosimplyletitgo.

Well,almost.

TherewasnowaytoletgoofthelessonsI’dlearnedonTheDiamondLine…realornot.

TherewasnowayofforgettingtheperspectivesI’dlearnedfromthelegendsI’dmet…realornot.

TherewasnowayofreleasingthefeelingIhadactuallytraveledbackto1888…realornot.

Morethananything,therewasnoignoringtheobvioustruthofthemainlessonI’dlearned—thateveryresourcerequiredtobesuccessfulwaswithinmygrasp—hereandnow—rightwhereIwas.

Ihadfoundmyacresofdiamonds.

*

Theseconddayafterthedream,Iwenttothecomputerand—onebyone—IpulleduptheWikipediapagesforeachofthepeopleI’dmetduringthedream,beginningwithRussellConwell:

RussellConwellFebruary15,1843–December6,1925

BorninSouthWorthington,Massachusetts,Conwellwasawell-knownBaptistminister,lecturerandphilanthropist.HeisbestknownasthefounderandfirstpresidentofTempleUniversityinPhiladelphia,Pennsylvania,andforhisinspirationallecture,AcresofDiamonds.

AcresofDiamondsoriginatedasaspeechthatConwelldeliveredover6,000timesaroundtheworld.Abookbythesametitlewasfirstpublishedin1890bytheJohnY.HuberCompanyofPhiladelphia.TempleUniversitywasbuiltfromtheincomeearnedfromthisbookandspeech.

ThenImovedontotheothers…

PhineasTaylor(P.T.)BarnumJuly5,1810–April7,1891

BorninBethel,Connecticut,P.T.Barnumembarkedonanentertainmentcareerataveryearlyage,becomingafamousauthor,publisher,politicianandphilanthropist.ButhewillforeverberememberedmostforfoundingtheBarnum&BaileyCircuswithbusinesspartnerJamesBailey.Barnumsufferedastrokein1890duringaperformance.Priortohisdeath,BarnumgavepermissiontotheEveningSunnewspapertoprinthisobituarybecausehewantedtoreadofhisowndeath.

JamesAnthonyBaileyJuly4,1847–April11,1906

AnAmericancircusringmasterwho,togetherwithshowmanP.T.Barnum,establishedtheBarnumandBailey’sCircus(forwhichBaileywasinstrumentalinobtainingJumbotheElephant)in1881.UponP.T.Barnum’sdeathin1891,BaileypurchasedthecircusfromBarnum’swidow.BaileycontinuedtouringtheeasternUnitedStatesuntilhetookhiscircustoEurope.ThecircuswassoldtotheRinglingBrothersin1907,ayearafterBailey’sdeath.

FrederickDouglassFebruary1818–February20,1895

Asocialreformer,lecturer,statesman,abolitionist,earlysupporterofwomen’ssuffrage,andauthorofseveralautobiographiesinwhichheeloquentlydescribedhisexperiencesasaslave,includingLifeandTimesofFrederickDouglass,publishedin1881andrevisedin1892.Attheageof

12,thewifeofaslaveownertaughtDouglassthealphabet,thoughillegalandagainstherhusband’swishes.Douglasswouldlaterbequotedassaying,“Onceyoulearntoread,youwillbeforeverfree.”

AndrewCarnegieNovember25,1835–August11,1919

AScottish-AmericanindustrialistwholedtheexpansionoftheAmericansteelindustryinthelate19thcentury,Carnegiebecameoneofthehighestprofilephilanthropistsofhistime.Inanarticletitled“TheGospelofWealth”(publishedin1889afteraneardeathexperienceinatrainaccidentayearearlier),Carnegiecalledontherichtousetheirwealthtoimprovesociety,settingoffawaveofphilanthropyunlikeanythingseenbefore.

FlorenceScovelShinnSeptember24,1871–October17,1940

BorninNewJerseyandeducatedinPhiladelphia,FlorenceScovelShinnwasanAmericanartistwhobecameoneofAmerica’sNewThoughtspiritualteachersandmetaphysicalwritersofhertime.Sheisbestknownforherbooks,TheGameofLifeandHowtoPlayIt,(1925)andTheSecretDoortoSuccess,(1940).Scovelwasquotedassaying,“Theinvisibleforcesareeverworkingformanwhoisalways‘pullingthestrings’himself,thoughhedoesnotknowit.Owingtothevibratorypowerofwords,whatevermanvoices,hebeginstoattract.”MotivationalauthorLouiseHayacknowledgesFlorenceScovelShinnasanearlyinfluence.

Iknowitsoundedstrange,butImissedthemallalready.Atleasttherewereplentyofbooksandreadingmaterialsavailabletome—entirelibraryshelvesworth—soIcouldvisitthemanytimeIwished.

Buttherewasonethingthatreallybotheredme.

ItwasFlorence’sbiography.

I’dknownwhoeachoftheotherswerebeforethedream.Theywerefamous.I’dreadthingsbythemandaboutthem.I’dstudiedtheminschoolandhadseenbiographiesaboutthemonTV.

ButFlorence?

Iwas100percentcertainIhadneverheardthenameFlorenceScovelbeforethenightofthedream.

YeteverysinglethinginherinternetbiofitexactlywithwhatI’dexperienced,

YeteverysinglethinginherinternetbiofitexactlywithwhatI’dexperienced,whatIknewaboutherasayoungwomanwithlimitlessgoalsanddreams.

Rightdowntoherage.

HerbiographysaidshewasborninSeptember1871.Inmydream,itwas1888.

Seventeen.

Inanycase,evenifithadbeenadream,theFlorenceI’dmetonthetrainhaddoneeverythingshesaidshewantedtodo.Seventeen-year-oldFlorenceScovelhadturnedherthoughtsintorealityandmanifestedthelifeofherdreams.

Imaginethat.

EPILOGUE

OneYearLater...

ThefinalworkshopattheIGSBEhadjustconcluded,andKatieandIweretryingtogeteverythingwe’daccumulatedoverthethreedaysintoourbags.

“Youwereright,”Katiesaid.“Theconferencewasamazing.”

“Youwereright,too,”Isaid.

“Aboutwhat?”

“Aboutnotcomingherelastyear,”Isaid.“Itwastooearlytocomethen.AndifIhadcome,Idon’tthinkIwouldhavemadethemostofit.”

Whichwasentirelytruebecauseitwasn’tuntilafterthedreamthatIbeganworkingthebusinessthewayIshouldhavefromtheverystart.AttendingIGSBEnow—havingbuiltasolidbusinessoverthelastyear,rightwhereIwasandwiththeresourcesIhadwithinmyreach—madegoingtotheconferenceanaddedbonus,notaHailMary.

“Comeon,”Katiesaid,glancingatherwatch,“we’regoingtomissourtrain.”

No,itwasn’ttheDiamondLine—therewasnoDiamondLine,Iknewthatnow.We’dtakenthestandardAmtrakservicefromChicagotoNewYork,whichwasagreatidea.

Katie’sidea.

ItwasalsoKatie’stospendafulldayonthewaybackinPhiladelphiatoseetheLibertyBell,and—ofcourse—tovisitTempleUniversity.

*

KatieandIwerefinishingourtourofTempleUniversity,thefinalstopbeingtheschoollibrary.

Asweclimbedtheconcretestairstothelibrarydoors,Katiestoppedme.“Chris,look.”

Itwasabannerthatread:AcresofDiamonds,125thAnniversary,1890-2015.

Onceinside,wediscoveredtherewasatributetoDr.RussellConwell,anentireareawithcopiesofallthebookshe’dwritten,historicalphotographs,andmiscellaneousmemorabiliafromacenturyearlier.

Andthereitwas.

Aphotograph,rightinthemiddleofthedisplay.No,Itakethatback.Itwasnotaphotograph…

Itwasthephotograph.

Awide,blackandwhiteglossyprint—theedgeswornandyellowedwithage—withthesixofusstandinginaline,holdingourfacesperfectlystillforthecamera.

“Katie”wasallIcouldmanagetosay,stilltryingtowrapmybrainaroundwhatIwasseeing.

“What?”Katiesaid.

“Thephoto,”Isaid.

(Fromlefttoright):Dr.RussellConwell,FrederickDouglass,UnidentifiedPassenger,FlorenceScovel-Shinn,P.T.BarnumandJamesA.Bailey.(FromthePhineasTaylorBarnumcollection,takenaboardTheDiamondRailroadLine,

circa1888.PhotographCredit:ThomasEakins.)

“Howisthispossible?”Katieasked.

“Idon’tknow.”

“I’msorryIdidn’tbelieveyou,”Katiesaid.“It’sjustthat—”

“Youdon’thavetoapologize,”Isaid.“I’dalmoststoppedbelievingitwasrealmyself.”

ButnowIknew.

Theentirethinghadnotbeenmyimagination.

Ithadhappened.

Ihadbeentherewiththerestofthem…

OntheDiamondLine.

SIXKEYLESSONSFROMTHEDIAMONDLINE

-1-

Everythingyouneedtosucceedcanbefoundwhereyouarenow.

-2-

Itisyourdutytobecomerich.

-3-

Focusononethingatatime,anddoitwithboldness.

-4-

Successisascienceanyonecanmaster.

-5-

Donotwishforabundance—expectit.

-6-

Whatyouthinkaboutmostmusteventuallymanifestitselfinreality.

AboutTheDiamondLine...

TheDiamondLineisafictionalstoryaboutarealperson–Dr.RussellH.Conwell–authorofaveryrealbook,AcresofDiamonds,oneofthemost

motivationalbookseverpenned.

Additionally,Dr.ConwelldeliveredhisAcresofDiamondsspeechover6,000times,withavinylrecordingreleasedin1916,followedbyaliveradiobroadcast

in1923.

WhileweattemptedtostaytruetoConwell’soriginalAcresofDiamondsstory,TheDiamondLineisultimatelyaworkoffiction.Assuch,weallowedourselvessignificantcreativelicense.Forexample,thereisnohistoricalrecordthatRussellConwellevermetatimetraveleronatrain.But,beyondlittlethingslikethat,themajorityofthedates,locations,inventions,etc.,areasaccurateand

realaspossible.

AbouttheAuthors....

RichardFenton&AndreaWaltzarethefoundersofCourageCrafters,Inc.,andhavemadeittheirmissiontohelppeoplereprogramthewaytheyfeelabout

failure,rejectionandhearingtheword“NO!”

Asinternationallyrecognizedkeynotespeakers,RichardFenton&AndreaWaltzhavespokentosomeofthelargestandmostsuccessfulorganizationsintheworld,includingThePamperedChef,AmericanExpress,Primerica,UtilityWarehouseLtd.,Aloette,Samsonite,RE/Max,Kleeneze,TommyHilfiger,and

manyothers.

TheyaretheauthorsofthebestsellingbookGoforNo!®,TheFearFactoryandMillionDollarYear.

ForinformationonGoforNo!®orabouthavingRichardFenton&AndreaWaltzspeaktoyourgroup,visittheirwebsite:

www.GoForNo.com