Langsung ke konten utama

Scotland: Carnegie Birthplace Museum

My efficient day Monday allowed me to make an extended visit to the Andrew Carnegie Birthplace Museum on Tuesday. I didn't know much about Carnegie when I arrived; only that he was a filthy rich steel baron from Pittsburgh and that he became famous for giving away a lot of his money. My TripAdvisor review:
"Rare is the museum that not only informs and entertains, but also moves you almost to tears with the treatment of its subject. I didn't know much about Andrew Carnegie when I came here, but I left a wiser man and that's no small feat. Go, see the small, humble room where he was born - then go downstairs to the hall and read about his accomplishments, his philosophy, his talents. Carnegie financed almost 3,000 libraries around the world, leaving only one stipulation: That each one should contain, prominently, the words "Let there be light". This museum shines that light."

And that just about sums it up. It is clear from the start that someone born into a tiny house in the poorer parts of a small Scottish town and subsequently rises to become possibly the wealthiest man in the world, has to have some special talents. This was the room the family shared. Here they made their meals, here the kids played, here the father had his little office.
DSC01127

The tiny fireplace where food was cooked.
DSC01128

The bed where Andrew Carnegie was born, and where he later slept.
DSC01129

Here, his parents worked the infernal contraption that would produce clothes. They soon fell on hard times, like most of the country. His father more or less went bankrupt and his mother had to work extra hours as a cobbler. They left for better opportunities in the US in 1848, when Andrew was not yet 13.
DSC01126

Andrew got a job in a cotton mill, working 48 hours a week. He was then hired as a messenger boy for the telegraph and in short time was promoted to operator. He had a special talent; at the time, the telegraph worked like this: A message would come in, ticking long and short taps on the line. The sounds were turned into dots and lines on tiny slips of paper and then translated by someone qualified to read them. Andrew was, according to the museum, one of twelve people in the US at the time who could translate directly from what he heard on the line to letters on paper. This meant he had an advantage over all the other messengers in terms of getting the word out to his customers. Additionally, he memorized the location of all the major businesses in town and the faces of all the important people. Pretty soon, he had a network of rich and powerful people to aid him. One of them opened his huge library for young Andrew, and the boy read voraciously. It was here he resolved that should he ever become rich, he would open libraries so that other poor boys could enjoy the same fortunes he'd had. Eventually he was hired by the Pennsylvania Railroad Company as their operator and soon had enough cash to make modests investments. The returns he got convinced him to stop working for the railroad and start up for himself, investing in all sorts of businesses, but mainly in steel. When he sold his large business empire in 1901, it was for as sum corresponding to almost $14 billon in 2016 money. He spent the last 18 years of his life giving away the money, mostly to build libraries and educational institutions.

Carnegie in his study.
DSC01130

There's tons of info on his many exploits in business and philantropy at the birthplace museum.
DSC01132

Komentar

Postingan populer dari blog ini

A day trip back home

Saturday 13th, I drove down to my old hometown of Hønefoss, to stuff face with some old friends and to witness my brother hollering at an outside pizza restaurant right next to the building my grandparents owned when I was little. To the best of my knowledge, it still carries my family name. My old friend Per Magnus and his magnificent girlfriend, Nui. They met at a shooting competition in Thailand a couple of years back and she's temporarily stuck in Norway due to the corona crisis. She keeps busy feeding him all this yummy Thai food and I can only look on in silent despair at their Facebook posts. Mmmmmm, Thai food. This picture was taken at 11:15PM Saturday night. That big ole building is my old elementary school, where I attended 3rd through 6th grade (this was back when the compulsory part of school was only nine years in Norway). The school is closing this year, although they may use it next year too iffin the corona virus is still a threat. Look at how LIGHT it is... This pi...

To the west coast by a new route

Tuesday, I set out for the west coast. I had originally intended to go the usual way over the mountains and down Lærdal to Sogndal, then along the Sognefjord to Fortun and up the hillside into the mountains. However, my landlady had tipped me that there was another road, going down to Årdal and then up into the mountains further east. So I took that one instead The first deviation from the "normal" route comes at Tyin, where you take the road down to Årdal. The road takes you past still icy lakes, snow-clad mountains and waterfalls galore. A couple of miles after you take off towards Årdal (road 53), is lake Tyin . In mid-June it was still mostly frozen. From the lake, the river Tya runs through several small lakes down into lake Årdalsvatnet, which again empties out into the Atlantic Ocean. There's tons of water coming down the mountainside everywhere you look. This is Lake Holsbru, the last lake before the river starts falling deep, deep down into Årdalsvatnet. The sign...

Return to Callander

My work schedule allowed me to leave Norway early enough to squeeze in TWO Wednesdays in Callander. The last one was well spent with feeding the cattle, eating at the the hotel restaurant and foot-stomping with the guys of Pure Malt. I love the silly bovines at the Trossach Mill, they never fail to amuse me. I arrive in the afternoon, go in and buy three small bags of sliced up potatoes and carrots, then walk over to the fence. Mama Honey is in the corner, chewing pensively and can't be stirred. After some coaching, sweet little Holly gets up and comes over to see what's on the menu. And here's the thing: She's become so spoiled that she doesn't even WANT the potatoes. I reach out and hold the potato up to her mouth. She either turns away or opens up halfway, only to drop it once I let go. The carrots, however, go down as always. I have proof here: So, I find myself feeding Holly ONLY carrots. Then big ole Hamish, the black bull, starts wandering over. So I turn my ...