Tag: Nobel Prize

On a Bellboy’s Tip

Tipping is always a minefield for me. Staying in Europe for a bit, the system of when, where, and how much to tip is vastly different from that in the United States. But when it comes to dealing with hotel staff members, I’m more than happy to show my appreciation for assistance and knowledge. On the other hand, these days, I don’t usually carry cash with me, and, instead, I rely on the touchless pay systems of my mobile phone. Other travelers throughout history have encountered similar potentially awkward situations of not having ready cash to tip staff when a service is rendered.

Take the case of Al.

Al was born in Germany in 1879 and had become a academician and professor. His research and work had gained a reputation, and, because of this, he was traveling in Japan an speaking at some universities on his specialty subject in early November, 1922. He and his wife were staying at the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo while his lectures were going on at the nearby national university. The couple were in the lobby, enjoying a drink, when a bellboy at the establishment came up to him and handed him a telegram. We aren’t sure that Al didn’t have change–some versions of this story say that the bellboy refused a tip in the first place–but for whatever reason, the young man didn’t receive money for his service to Al and his wife.

Looking around, Al saw some Imperial Hotel stationery sitting on a nearby table. Taking a fountain pen from his coat pocket, he grabbed two sheets of the stationery and scribbled two notes and gave them to the bellboy. The first note read, in German, “A calm and modest life brings more happiness than the pursuit of success combined with constant restlessness.” The second note said, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” And then Al signed and dated both notes.

The bellboy looked somewhat confused. It’s unclear if the young man knew who Al was at the time, in fact, and that means that we can understand his confusion. It seems that Al sensed the bellboy’s hesitation at receiving the notes, so he tried to explain to him. “You keep those,” Al told him. One day, he said, you can sell those notes and they’ll be worth more money than any tip I could give you as a tip today.

Fast-forward to 2017, a full 95 years after Al gave the bellboy the pair of notes as a tip. At an auction in Jerusalem, the first note was sold to a private European collector for $1,560,000. The second, shorter one, sold for almost $250,000. Turns out that Al was right. The notes were worth more than any tip he could have given the bellboy. Interestingly, the notes had been passed down from the bellboy to his grand nephew, who was by then living in Germany. Who was this man whose autograph and handwriting could bring so much money at auction?

Seems that besides knowing about physics, Albert Einstein knew a little something about the value of autographs as well.

On a Noble Inventor

Immanuel still holds several patents for his inventions despite the fact that he died about 150 years ago. The Swede took his rather large family and moved to St. Petersburg Russia in the late 1830s and found success there working on ideas that still comprise parts of various modern industries. For example, Immanuel created the first rotary lathe that made possible the creation of modern plywood.

In addition to his inventions, Immanuel also created companies that made explosives and various bombs and mines that caught the keen interest of then Czar Nicholas I of Russia. The Czar, engaged in a war with Britain in the Crimea, made Immanuel a wealthy man for a time. But Nicholas died in 1855, and the incoming Czar, Alexander II, ended the Crimean War and severely cut the nation’s military spending. Immanuel’s company went from boom to bust in a very short time. By 1862, the company was in receivership, and the family returned to Sweden after over two decades abroad.

It wasn’t the first time Immanuel had faced economic ruin. That circumstance faced them before when they had gone to Russia in the first place. Now, coming back to Sweden, it felt to Immanuel and his wife that they were right back where they had been, as if the past twenty plus years had been in vain. Add to their increasing despair the fact that one of Immanuel’s eight children, his son, Emil, had died in an explosion at the family factory. It seems that the company had been experimenting with nitroglycerin. Someone grew careless in handling the dangerous material, and Emil lost his life.

When Immanuel died a decade later, the rest of his family rightly mourned him. Here was a man who tried his best to do what he needed to do to take care of and provide for his wife and children. That’s the noble way he wished to be remembered–not as someone who made (and lost) a fortune in the arms business. That mentality of being keenly aware of what your legacy would be–how people would remember you after you’re gone–would be passed down to his children and his children’s children.

It certainly made a large impact on one of Immanuel’s son, a man named Alfred. Alfred would go on to create over 350 patents for inventions, including the creation of dynamite out of nitroglycerin, thus safely handling the very substance that took the life of his brother. And, like his father, Alfred did not want to be know for his inventions regarding warfare and destruction. He wanted his legacy to be a legacy of the celebration of the achievements of mankind, including the making of peace.

That’s why Alfred Nobel used his fortune to create the Nobel Prize.