Charles Sheldon lived over a century ago. There was no Twitter, no hashtags, no websites, and no “financial independence movement.” After a brief but lucrative career in the railroad and mining industries, Sheldon became a self-made millionaire in his 30s and retired at age 35. He used his newfound freedom to track down bighorn sheep and then, you know, became the “Father of Denali National Park.”
So, it begs the question: what would we do if we were given the gift of time?
We Found Something Good on TV
Mrs. CC and I were recently thumbing through our Amazon Prime viewing list in search of a new series to enjoy. We fortunately came across a well-crafted PBS production by Ken Burns, The National Parks: America’s Best Idea, from 2009.
The program is a series of (really long) episodes detailing the history of America’s national park system, littered with incredible eye candy. But amongst the scenes of natural beauty are the stories of key individuals. These quirky visionaries were instrumental in changing the national discourse on the preservation of natural spaces.
Some of the names are familiar and legendary. Examples include the god-like and eclectic John Muir and presidents Theodore and Franklin D. Roosevelt. These individuals fought to slow the unstoppable American machine of progress during the Second Industrial Revolution, often at odds with most government officials and even the general public. They recognized the benefits of development, but valued the unquantifiable bliss of irreplaceable natural majesty.
Without these stand-up folks, we’d be living in a wasteland today. Think Cleveland, Ohio or something. Sorry Cleveland, I should give you a chance.
Charles Sheldon and Early Retirement
One such man with less name recognition was Charles Sheldon. According to a short bio by worldhistory.us, Charles Sheldon was born in 1867 in Rutland, Vermont. After graduating from Yale in 1890, Sheldon began his career in management for various railroad companies. This career path ultimately led him to Mexico eight years later, as general manager of the Chihuahua and Pacific Railroad.
Sounds like a fine path for proper young man, right? Attaboy, Charles.
But here’s where things get interesting…
Once in Mexico, Sheldon made an investment in the Chihuahua and Pacific Exploration Company, a silver and lead mining enterprise. This investment apparently provided a decent return, generating abundant wealth. Four years later, in 1902, Sheldon called it good and retired at age 35.
How many people strike it rich and cash out? Money lust is real, and so many others continue digging in their heels to expand their wealth and realm of influence. Why didn’t Charles keep going and buy the bigger house on the bigger hill, or order a fresh Isotta-Fraschini car from Italy?
Well, Charles Sheldon had a love apparently much stronger than money.
Sheldon loved bighorn sheep.
Charles Sheldon and Alaska
Sheldon set down his cigar and set off immediately for the Canadian Yukon Territory, exploring wild lands and studying life habits of bighorn sheep. Soon thereafter, he published The Wilderness of Upper Yukon, documenting his expeditions.
The next several years were spent in and out of the area of an incredible peak, a peak that towered prominently above the rugged Alaskan tundra. This peak is the tallest mountain in North America, known in contemporary times as Mt. McKinley.
Charles Sheldon eventually took the unpopular side of fighting to rename the mountain back to its original name…Denali.
Wilderness of Denali
A book of his Alaskan travels, Wilderness of Denali, was eventually published posthumously by Sheldon’s wife. This work is a classic journal of his Alaskan adventures, documenting a less-than-glamorous but deeply meaningful life in a remote wilderness. It’s no cocktail on the beach, far from a life of luxury.
Why would a rich man subject himself to a solitary existence in the wilderness!?
Sheldon was clearly enamored with the vast wilderness expanse and endless supplies of wildlife. According to the National Park Service, Sheldon’s natural altruistic streak soon moved him to advocate for the creation of a park to preserve this region.
Charles Sheldon proposed and worked tirelessly for over a decade, lobbying for the creation of Alaska’s first national park. Sweet success finally came in February 1917, when President Woodrow Wilson formally declared the creation of Mount McKinley National Park (renamed Denali National Park in 1980). Sheldon personally delivered the bill to the president, presumably, like a boss.
Today, Charles Sheldon’s legacy is not that of a wealthy baron or railroad magnate. Sheldon is now known as an explorer, conservationist, and “Father of Denali National Park.”
Charles Sheldon’s Elements of Hustle
My fascination with someone like Charles Sheldon boils down to two important elements.
- Roughing It. Sheldon could have enjoyed a life of retired luxury, with cigars, billiards, and velvet robes. He chose a grueling path of wilderness living and subsequent years of intense lobbying efforts to preserve that wilderness.
- Purpose-Driven Work. Meaningful work is an important pillar of happiness. Can you imagine the satisfaction Sheldon enjoyed seeing the land he loved preserved at a national level, saved from unsustainable development and hunting practices? This work paid no salary, but the fruits of the labor were undoubtedly deeply gratifying.
Why Do I Care About Charles Sheldon?
If you’ve been around this site for a while, you can probably tell that I’m a bit of a romantic. Hardly a Casanova, but I’m a dreamer, for sure.
The “FIRE movement” started as a nerdy optimizer’s life hack. Left-brain folks with good salaries realized they didn’t have to spend 40 years in a cubicle. They came with a working knowledge of tax codes, simple and highly-effective investment strategies, Excel spreadsheets, and apparently little desire for the finer things. The result is a movement (or is it a cult?), where folks are empowered to work for someone else for only a decade or less. Sounds like the dream right? Pack it up and call it a day.
But this romantic sees trouble on the horizon, at least for someone like me. I can’t be happy just chilling on the couch and playing video games, eating frozen Casa Mamita Steak Chimichangas from Aldi. I dream big, perhaps at-times too big, and someone like Charles Sheldon really strikes a chord with me.
The Gift of Time
This gift of financial independence is exactly that — a gift. How many people in human history have been able to freely dictate the course of their life?
Through time we’ve been tied to the farm, our business, our homes, our jobs, our children’s school district, or some other invisible shackle, for lack of better words. Some of those commitments are certainly rooted in love, so perhaps “shackle” is a misapplied term in many cases.
Regardless, I still have a few of those “shackles”, but precious few grains of sand remain in the overturned hourglass of my “committed” life. (Not as in committed to an institution — not yet — but committed to my commitments.)
I know some of you are dubious that financial independence actually works, and that’s fine. Doubt you may, but I’ve taken years of study to get quite comfortable with the whole thing. While many root their decisions in fear, I choose to live my life optimistically, viewed through a lens of opportunity. To each their own.
(Related Post: We Lost Thousands of Dollars in the Stock Market, and That’s Okay)
We can argue in the margins if the money will last forever, but it will absolutely last for a while. What will we do with this gift?
We Don’t Have to Be Legends
I’m not suggesting that we all should do something noble like fight for the creation of a national park. I don’t believe we all have to have some virtuous path in life. But I can say for certain that my career to date has been only marginally meaningful to me.
I like to think Charles Sheldon felt the same way. He was able to bolster his financial position in a way that (I suspect) wasn’t loathsome, but wasn’t what he longed to do. This idea reminds me of my friend Craig. Craig used less-than-desirable job assignments to build experience for the work that inspired him most.
Sheldon went on to do something hard and important, with presumably no concern of money. That’s really cool, man.
Good on ya, Chuck.
What would you do with the gift of time?
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