When I was turning 21 and about to graduate from the University of Hawaii, I held out hope that my father might reward me with a nice gift. And I knew just what I wanted. A VW van. I wanted to fix it up just like my high school friend, Brian, had fixed his up. Curtains around the rear windows, a bed, a wooden table made from an old Hawaiian Electric cable spool, and a wine bottle candle on the table top. To make a long story short, I didn’t get it. My father apparently felt that graduation did not rate a special gift. But that’s OK. My father was still a cool guy. And things could have been much worse . . . which brings to mind one of my favorite nature writers, Ernest Thompson Seton, who received a surprising birthday “gift" from his father.
Seton, who would eventually become the co-founder of the Boy Scouts of America, was a prolific writer of animal fiction, and some of you might have read his most popular book, “Wild Animals I Have Known."
In August 1881, Seton turned 21, and, on that day, his father called him into his study to present him with something. I’m not sure what Seton was hoping to receive, but it probably wasn't a VW van. But even if he had somehow received a VW van in 1881, it would not have been as astonishing as what he did get.
As Seton entered the room, his father handed him a piece of paper covered with numbers. Seton glanced at it and found himself holding a bill for all the expenses he had cost his father from the day he was born. It even included the fee charged by the doctor who delivered him. Wait, there’s more!
He was also charging his son six percent interest.
The total figure came to $537.50, a significant sum in 1881 dollars. As Seton left the room, his father told him that he should “never forget the debt you owe your father, who is to you on earth the next to God.”
What did Seton do? This might surprise many readers, but he actually paid ever penny of it. And then he cut all ties with his father and never spoke to him again. He referred to his father as “the most selfish man I ever knew, or heard of, in history or in fiction,” which probably dashed any hope his father had of winning “Father of the Year." Later in life, Seton described his father as “one who knew the price of everything and the value of nothing.”
For the record, my other favorite nature writer is Rachel Carson. If you have never read either Carson or Seton, well . . . you should.
What did you end up receiving from your dad?