Fifty years ago when the family stock was sold and we were about to get $2 million [over $8 million in today’s dollars] my husband and I looked at each other, “We don’t want to be that rich.” So we gave away half, finding a foundation in New York City that sent us lists of projects regularly that we would pick from; it worked quite well. We gave quite a bit to Indian Reservations, knowing that those folks were pretty hard up.

Once in a blue moon I wish I had a little more to give. I don’t have big sums to give any more, but I still send some of them checks for $50. But I’ve never regretted giving that money away. Our own family has never wanted for money—we have had everything we needed.

I credit my Dad for my being comfortable with money. When we were little kids, my father left our allowance in a pile of envelopes with our names on them and dates for the weeks they were for, a couple months ahead. It was maybe 15 cents/week—you could buy quite a bit for 15 cents. We could take money out ahead if we needed to. And he said to us, “If you get stuck let me know and I’ll give you some help.” When we were 16, he gave us three kids a list of all the stock he had bought in our names and turned them over to us. “This is what you have. You buy everything for yourself now. Do the best you can. If you get stuck let me know and I’ll try to help.”