Hetty Green: The Witch of Wall Street [Outliers]

It's 1907 and Wall Street is in complete meltdown. Banks are failing, millionaires are jumping from windows, and even JPMorgan himself is scrambling to save the entire financial system. But while the most powerful men in America are panicking, there's one person sitting calmly at a simple desk in a bank lobby surrounded by stacks of cash. She's wearing the same black dress she's worn for years, and she's about to single-handedly prevent the collapse of the American economy. Her name? Heady Green. And she's about to lend over $6 million to say banks, businesses, and lives, all will charging fair interest rates when she could have demanded anything she wanted. You've probably never heard of her. And that's because history buried the story of America's first female Wall Street Titan, the woman who turned a childhood of rejection into a financial empire that would make even today's billionaires jealous. She bought entire towns face down a railroad barren with a loaded gun and accumulated wealth using strategies so ahead of their time that Warren Buffett is still using them today. So why don't we know her name? Because Heady Green committed the ultimate sin in the gilded age. She was a woman who refused to apologize for being smarter than every man in the room. Welcome to the Knowledge Project. I'm your host, Shane Parish. In a world where knowledge is power, this podcast is your toolkit for mastering the best foot of the people have already figured out. Heady Green died in 1916 worth about a hundred million. That's over 2.5 billion in today's money. And she built this fortune in an era when most women couldn't vote, couldn't own property in most states and were banned from the New York Stock Exchange entirely. She actively managed railroads, real estate stocks and bond portfolios from a simple desk in a bank lobby. While other women of the gilded age competed for social status by throwing elaborate parties, Heady was quietly making millions. She never had formal business training. Like any tall poppy people took shots at her. She was mocked by newspapers sued by family members and had her own husband secretly pledge her fortune as collateral for his debts. This episode reveals how an unwanted daughter turned childhood rejection into financial dominance using strategies worn buffered wouldn't popularize for another century. But here's what matters to you. Her playbook is timeless, whether you're making your first investment or managing millions, the strategy's Heady used still work today. Stick around at the end for my reflections and lessons learned or visit fs.blog/podcast to see them. As always, this episode is for information purposes only. It's time to listen and learn. Heady Holland Robinson was born in 1834 into one of New Bedford's wealthiest wailing families. But she was unwanted. Her father Edward Mott Robinson had desperately wanted a son. When Heady arrived, instead he was as the record show devastated by the birth of this child. When her baby brother Isaac died just weeks after birth, her father's rage consumed the household. Heady was cast aside and sent to live with her grandfather. Quick with numbers and good at reading her grandfather put her to work. His eyesight was failing, his shipping empire demanded constant attention. So he had six-year-old Heady sit on his knee and read him the financial news stock prices, commodity reports, shipping manifests, while other children her age read fairy tales, Heady read railroad bonds up 3%, whale oil futures declining, gold steady at $20 per ounce. There was no other little girl for me to play with, she later recalled. I had listened to bulls and bears and all that. In this way I came to know what stocks and bonds were. By age 8, she had opened her own savings account depositing her weekly allowance and watching compound interest work its magic. Her father initially disappointed by his daughter began to see Heady's gift with numbers. Known locally as Black Hawk Robinson for his ruthless business tactics, he started treating her like the heir he never had. Partly it was a necessity as his own eyesight was starting to fail, but Heady desperate to please him recognize that money was the way to his heart. She became his reader, his secretary following him through New Bedford's courthouses and warves. They inspected ships together, traded commodities and analyzed future markets. Most importantly, she absorbed his core philosophy. Property is a trust to be taken care of and enlarge for future generations. He would test her constantly. One of the key lessons he taught her is that if you can manage your brain, you can manage your fortune. At 20, your father and aunt sent her to New York for the social season with $1200 to buy fancy dresses and catch a husband. High society is how things worked in those days, but Heady had other plans. While her friends gossiped about fashion and social climbing, she listened to Wall Street men discuss finance. Instead of spending $1200 on clothes like she was supposed to, she spent $200 and invested the rest in bonds. When she returned to New Bedford early, she probably announced to her father that the bonds had already gained value. He could not contain his delight. Her aunt on the other hand was less pleased. But Heady made her choice. She'd rather have income than a husband. You can already see that Heady was a strong and independent woman who rejected the trappings of her upper class background and avoided the glittery style of the gilded age. The darkness began when Heady was in her early 30s. Within weeks of each other, both her father and beloved aunt Sylvia died. Her father's will delivered the first betrayal. Despite years of proving herself as his apprentice, despite demonstrating she was capable, he left most of his $6 million fortune in trust. She would receive a portion of the income but have no control over the principal. Upon her death, it would go to her children. Gone was the respect she thought that she had earned her biographer wrote. Gone was the confidence. Gone was the proof of love. Three weeks later, Aunt Sylvia died leaving her $2 million fortune, mostly to New Bedford Charities, servants, and suspiciously to her doctor. Only half went to Heady. Heady was not one to back down from a fight. She fought back with the fury that shocked proper society. She produced a second will, allegedly signed by her aunt, leaving everything to her. The problem was the signatures were identical. The ensuing court case became one of America's first trials to use statistical evidence. Harvard professors testified mathematical experts calculated probabilities. Benjamin Pierce, the Harvard mathematician, declared such identical signatures could happen once in 2666 millions of millions of times. Heady lost. But she learned something crucial, in a world run by men, a woman with money was always suspect. A woman fighting for money or anything for that matter was considered improper. It's not clear what happened at this point. Historians know that she probably did try to forge that signature. That's how desperate she was to control her inheritance. The case dragged on for years, forcing Heady and her husband to flee to London for six years. But she never gave up. She fought those trustees until she finally wrestled control away from them. By the 1880s, she had won. The money was hers to manage. And manage it, she did. Remember, this was the 1870s. Women couldn't vote. In many states, married women couldn't own property. Women were banned from the New York Stock Exchange floor until 1943. So how does a woman invest in the 1870s? First, understand what Wall Street was like then. There was no SEC, there was no regulations, there were barely any rules at all. It was the Wild West. Men like Jay Gold and Daniel Drew manipulated stock prices. They spread false rumors and cornered markets. It was corrupt and chaotic. Millions were made and lost. Heady set up shop right in the middle of it. And in an era where most fortunes were made and grown through swindling and cheating and doing whatever you could get away with, she would not succumb to the tactics of other millionaires. She did not employ workers at slave wages, did not steal land from the public or outsmart stockholders or payoff government officials like some. She did not scheme with Wall Street or speculate with other people's money. No, she told a reporter her formula for success was simple. Common sense? And hard work. She kept an office in the chemical national bank, not a rented office because that would cost money, but literally in the bank lobby. She'd sit on the floor sorting through her papers, the bank allowed it because she kept her money on deposit there. Well guys like Jay Gold tried to corner markets and manipulate the prices. Heady approached things differently. She said, I buy when things are low and nobody wants them. I keep them until they go up and people go crazy to get them. That's the secret of all success in business. It sounds a lot like Warren Buffett, who would later say the Keto investing successes to be fearful when others are greedy and to be greedy only when others are fearful. This is simple advice, but it's not easy. Few other people even attempted this in the 1870s, while everyone chased hot stocks, bought on margin, and speculated, had he did the opposite. She approached investing as if it were a business. Take the post-civil war government bond. They traded at a huge discount because investors feared being paid back and depreciated paper money instead of gold. While skittish investors saw a devastated south and enormous war debt, how do you saw something different? Vast mineral deposits being discovered at west, massive settlement under the Homestead Act, booming manufacturing, thousands of miles of new railroad track. The way she saw it, the United States was on the right track and had just suffered a temporary setback. The future was bright. She bought bonds trading as low as 50 cents on the dollar from the US government. When they fell farther, she bought even more. When the government honored them in gold, she made a fortune. This reminds me of another bit of advice from Warren Buffett, never bat against America. Hattie was doing this a century before Buffett was born. But what really separated Hattie from other investors was her obsessive research. Before deciding on an investment, I seek out every kind of information about it. This is the same thing that Buffett would do in the 60s when, at least as the story goes, he'd hire private investigators to follow CEOs to see how they lived. Here's an example of how obsessively detailed she was. When she wanted to buy a horse and buggy in Bella's Falls, she didn't just negotiate with the seller. She found someone with a grudge against the owner and convinced them to reveal every fault of the horse and rig. Armed with this knowledge, she got the wagon for less than half the asking price. When she bought Chicago and Rock Island Railroad stock, she didn't just read the annual reports. She traveled to Chicago and inspected the rail yards herself. She talked to workers. She analyzed freight volumes. She wanted to know everything about it. It was good and bad before investing. This obsession with information gave her an edge in an era before SEC regulations, standardized accounting or financial transparency. She did her own due diligence because she trusted no one else to do it. Hattie's Fugality, which was something that would be praised as prudent business sense and men, became the subject of vicious gossip because she was a woman. When he was branded as pathologically cheap for writing public transportation with 200,000 in bonds, she was mocked rather than admired for her thrift. The rumors were especially cruel about her treatment of her son. When Ned hurt his knee sledding in Central Park, Hattie didn't just call one doctor, she consulted specialists from New York to Baltimore. When they all recommended amputation, she refused. She had seen too many civil war veterans hobbling on wooden legs. She tried everything from hot sand treatments and tobacco leaves around the leg to mechanical devices in his shoe. She would even sit with him through the night when he cried in pain and carry him when he couldn't walk. But the newspapers mocked her for taking him to free clinics. What they didn't understand was that she wasn't trying to save money. She was trying everything she possibly could. It was just being a mother. When doctors didn't know she was rich, they gave her medical advice. When they knew who she was, they saw only dollar signs. As long as they're making noise in the room, I'm satisfied she said about Ned and his friends destroying pillows in a hotel fight once. If they had been still, I would have been suspicious. The railroad boom of the 1880s would make and break the green marriage. While Hattie methodically built her fortune through careful research and conservative investing, her husband Edward embodied the era's speculative fever. As president of the Louisville and Nashville railroad, he had positioned himself at the center of what the near times called one of the most gigantic railroad operations of the age. Edward's railroad had expanded dramatically, gobbling up smaller lines and extending track from 875 miles to 3,500 miles, creating in the process the only monopoly route to New Orleans. For a brief moment, Edward Green stood a top of the railroad world. But Edward was an erratic financier, a gambler who bought on margin and couldn't resist a risky bet. He's a reminder that the skills to get rich and the skills to stay rich are not the same thing. When his colleague was caught falsifying the Eleanor's books in 1884 claiming losses of only 2 million when they were actually 5 million, the stock plummeted 15 points in a week. The crisis deepened when other railroad investments soured. Securities worth 300,000 were suddenly worth half of that. When Heddy learned her own deposits of 550,000 cash and 26 million in securities were at risk, she demanded to be transferred to chemical national bank. However, that request was refused. Her husband was more than $700,000 in debt and had illegally pledged Heddy's money as collateral without her knowledge. This was the ultimate violation. Heddy had spent her life fighting for control of that money, battling her father's will, her aunt's trustees and society's assumptions about women. Now her own husband had pledged her growing fortune to cover his speculative debts. In a scene that became Wall Street legend, Heddy appeared at the bank's offices in her black dress cap. Her voice is chilly as the January air, and she demanded her deposits. She was the largest depositor at the bank. The problem was her husband was his largest loan. When refused, she erupted, screaming and stamping her feet while onlookers pressed their faces to the window. To save her fortune, Heddy paid $700,000 to rescue the bank. She loaded her millions into satchels and transferred them to chemical bank in a cab that got stuck in the snow under the weight of her wealth. In that cab, she plotted her revenge. Her marriage was effectively over. Edward had committed the unforgivable sin. He had risked her money for his own gain. By 1885, she was no longer Miss Edward Green. She was Miss Heddy Green, one of Wall Street's most formidable operators. She still shunned a private office, still worked from the chemical bank lobby, arriving each morning in black, eating onions toward off colds. Her approach to investing remained methodical. She wouldn't touch anything until she understood everything about it, the company's debts, the assets, the management character, income, reliability, only when satisfied that the downside risk was minimal and upside substantial, which she made her move. The press mocked her boarding house lifestyle and shabby clothes, but Heddy had no patience for gilded age, ostentation. She watched with contempt, a society woman exhausted themselves, planning elaborate balls and fighting for opera boxes. When two officers from Richmond, Terminal Railroad visited her to buy Georgia's central shares, they found her at her simple desk surrounded by chaos. Bond stocks and notes stuffed into pigeonholes, overflowing from a black tin box. They offered $115 per share for stock she'd bought for $70. She demanded $125 when they returned with a complex deal she raised her price to $130. Through pure nerves, she eventually sold at $127.50, nearly doubling her money. But it was in her battle with notorious bear Addison Kamak that Heddy showed true genius. Kamak had sold Louisville a Nashville stock short, betting it would fall on bad earnings, but Heddy was quietly cornering the market, buying every share she could find. As the stock rose instead of falling, Kamak found himself trapped. He needed 40,000 shares to cover his position. Heddy had them and made him pay a premium of $10 per share, walking away with $400,000 in profit. She had a lot more leverage than she used in this situation. He needed those shares desperately and she only charged him a $10 premium. Unlike other Wall Street operators who would have squeezed him dry, Heddy showed restraint. Kamak had always treated her with respect, so she returned the favor. She raised her children with her own peculiar philosophy. Her son Ned was her project and she intended to make him the richest man in America. Even as a child, she brought him to the chemical bank, teaching him money's true value. As a teen, she handed him work on the railroad she owned shares in Learning Operations First Hand. At 22, she sent him to Chicago to manage her real estate empire. Before sending him off, Heddy gave precise instructions for managing her mortgage businesses. He was to memorize the exact principle and interest owed on every mortgage. Not a penny less would be accepted and not a penny more as it would mess up the books. Her negotiation advice was equally specific. If anyone is full enough to offer you the full amount, take it. If offered less, tell them you'll give them an answer in the morning. She believed in sleeping on decisions. She would say, "In business generally, don't close the bargain until you have reflected on it overnight." Heddy had a set of rules that she gave him and I want to read these out to you because they're so powerful. Just like Munger who inverts problems, she offered Nettle List of don'ts. Don't cheat in our business dealings. For sooner or later your conscience will trouble you and you will worry yourself into the grave. Don't fail to be fair in all things business and otherwise. And don't kick a man when he's down. Don't envy your neighbors. Don't overdress whether you have the means or not. Don't fail to go to church for the church needs you and you need the church. Don't forget that riches dishonorably gained must be left behind some day and when you depart you will find the gates of heaven doubly bolted against you. Don't forget to be charitable and don't falsify. Don't forget to obey the laws of God for they were the first laws. And she offered one more piece of advice. After your business is over you may take him to dinner and theater but wait until the transaction has been closed and the money paid. He couldn't stay away from Chicago and then. She commuted between New York and Chicago as if it were a suburban stop on the railroad and she wore clothes that a society ladies made would not even wear. She appeared in Chicago courts attended meetings and scout investment locations. When the Bering Brothers crisis of 1890 sent markets tumbling, he went shopping. She understood what others didn't. Panics were temporary but value is permanent. In December of 1890 when the town of Kholloward defaulted and went up for auction, he had a net where there before dawn walking the streets and inspecting every property. When bidding began at 10 o'clock they had already arranged financing. Before other bidders could even complete their due diligence, he had bought the entire town for a hundred thousand dollars. She always found herself in a good position so she was the master of her circumstances rather than being mastered by them. She always had available cash which in a financial crisis very few possessed. And because of this during crises or panics she not only had the available funds but she had the courage to pick up these distressed assets at bargain prices. But it was in Texas that he made one of her boldest moves ever. The state's 6,000 miles of railroad track included numerous bankrupt branches that major operators like Kallis Huntington desperately wanted to consolidate. Heady wanted them to partly for profit but mostly despite Huntington who had crossed her years before. She sent Ned to Waco to bid on the Waco and Northwestern Texas Railroad. In a heated auction against Huntington's representative, 24-year-old Ned bid almost 1.4 million then won. When Huntington tried to block the sale and then shut up threatening Ned personally, Heady's response was characteristic. Up until now Huntington you have dealt with Heady Green, the business woman. Now you're fighting Heady Green the mother. Her one hair on Ned's head and I'll put a bullet through your heart. She reached for the gun on her desk. Huntington fled so fast that he left his top out behind. Don't mess with a mama bear. The 1893 financial crisis destroyed most investors but Heady has always had been quietly stockpiling cash while patiently waiting for opportunity. The trigger was the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad's failure in February, unable to pay its 125 million in debt. Three more major lines followed in quick succession. Banks that had loaned heavily to railroads found themselves underwater. Money got tight, interest rates soared as high as 75%. 500 banks failed. 15,000 businesses went under. George Williams of the Chemical Bank perched Heady with an emergency request. The New York clearinghouse needed to create a fund to ease the credit crisis. Would she help? Of course, Heady said to Ely. She would lend millions if they would sell her certain Chicago railroad notes payable on demand. Williams agreed, desperate for liquidity. The moment Heady received the notes, however, she called them in for immediate payment. When railroad executives protested that didn't have the money, she made a counteroffer, these were the same men who had supported Judge Collins for the Illinois Supreme Court. The judge who had ruled against her in a land sale years earlier. You put them on the bench, she told them now you can take them off or you can pay your loans to me. The men convinced Collins to run for governor promising support they never delivered. Instead, they backed his opponent. Collins withdrew his political career destroyed. Heady had finally got her revenge. This woman capped a grudge. While others panicked, though, she just went shopping. When Henry Hilton came begging for help to save AT Stewart's department store, the marble palace that had once dominated New York retail, Heady was the only investor willing to listen. The Hilton's had run annual sales from 60 million down to 8 million. She offered them 1.8 million for five years, demanding the original steward building as security and taking her 6% interest in advance. At the time, it was the largest mortgage ever given on a single New York property. Her wealth during this period was estimated between 40 and 50 million, making her the richest woman in America, and possibly the richest woman in the world. But she still lived like a middle class widow, taking the ferry from Hoboken each morning with regular commuters riding this recartochemical bank, working at her rolltop desk. When asked why she didn't live more lavishly, she quoted one of her favorite poems, "To live content with small means, to seek elegance rather than luxury and refinement rather than fashion, to be worthy, not respectable and wealthy, not rich, to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly, to listen to stars and birds to babes and sages with open heart, to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely, await occasions." Hurry, never. The crisis gave heady, unprecedented leverage in Texas. Her son had turned the Texas Midland Railroad from a bankrupt 52 mile stretch into the state's most efficient railroad. He'd strengthen the rails, replaced wooden bridges with steel, introduced electric headlights and added observation cars. The line carried more cotton per mile than any other railroad in the country. But Nad had grander ambitions. He wanted to be a political player, and a surprising transformation heady decided to help him. The woman who had scorned society suddenly appeared in Washington wearing fine silk dresses and fur trim drops. She took runes at the shorehome, the most expensive hotel in town, and lobbied Republican party leaders to make Ned state chairman for Texas. Her whole nature has been revolutionized Marvel's one hotel owner, I never knew anyone to loosen up as Miss Green has of late. She contributed over six figures to the fusion party in Texas to defeat Williams-Jennig Byron, who had made her a campaign target, railing against her wealth and demanding a federal income tax. When McKinney won, Ned rode a white horse in the inaugural parade and received control of the federal patronage in Texas. When she reconciled with husband Edward accepting him back into the Brooklyn household, she gave him a separate suite upstairs. She would help nurse him through gouter talks, but still went to work every day when he stayed home reading and smoking cigars. She would never again fully trust him. When Brooklyn merged with New York in 1898, creating a city of 3.5 million subject to New York, Texas, heady immediately went across the Hudson to Hoboken. But when the newly consolidated city needed funds, she had no problem loading them 1 million at 2% interest, which was well below the usual 3.5% rate. She cleverly kept the tax men at bay while profiting from the city's growth. As 1900 dawned, heady stood at the pinnacle of American Finance. At 65, when most contemporaries were retiring to drawing rooms, she was executing some of her career's boldest moves. The new century brought merger mania that would dwarf anything seen before, and heady positioned herself perfectly to profit. She watched with keen interest as JP Morgan orchestrated US deals creation, the first billion dollar corporation. When Andrew Carnegie sold his deal works to Morgan for 480 million, heady shook her head, Carnegie sold two cheap, she told reporters, he should have held out for more. Her daily routine at 70 was as rigorous as her routine at 40. At chemical banks, she maintained her modest corner desk, surrounded by newspapers, bonds, certificates, and mortgage documents. Men who controlled industries worth hundreds of millions came to her for loans, received in her simple black dress while she sized them up with piercing blue eyes. I saw all the big man on Wall Street during those years, her secretary Walter Marshall, they would come hat in hand to miss green, and she would make them wait while she finished reading some railroad report. She was establishing who had the power in that room. In 1905, when she was 71, New York City faced another financial crisis. The city needed 2.5 million immediately, and banks were demanding use for a rates. The city chamberlain came to heady personally, she had agreed to loan the entire amount at 5%, well below market rates. She is now the largest money lender in New York declared the Los Angeles Herald. When asked why she gave the city such favorable terms, she replied simply, "New York has been good to me, I'm returning the favor." The 1907 panic found heady at 73, with a mind as sharp as ever. She had seen it coming for months, converting her real estate holdings to cash, calling in loans, building her reserves. When the Nicarbocker trust collapse and depositors stampeded, heady was one of the few people in New York with ready cash. [BLANK_AUDIO] Many of people in Oregon held his famous all night meeting in his library, assembling finance titans to save the banking. There were rumors that a mysterious woman in black entered the library at midnight, and that it was Heide Green. The morgan later insisted it was Miss Russell Sayage. Heide was already deploying capital, lending $1 million here, $2 million there, always at reasonable rates and never taking advantage of the desperate. During the panic, she said, "I had $1 million in cash on my desk every day. The biggest man on Wall Street came to me and begged for loans. Some I helped, some I didn't. That was my privilege." She could have charged 40% interest, but she never took more than six. Never in my life have I practiced use-ery. Her son, Ned, revealed years later that during the 1907 panic, Heide had loaned over $6 million in Texas alone in addition to her New York loans. She single-handedly kept several banks from failing, prevented numerous businesses from going under and helped stabilize the entire financial system. Yet, she received no recognition, no medals, and no accolades. JP Morgan was hailed as Wall Street savior. Heide Green remained the witch of Wall Street. I think that's the way she liked it. By 1910 at 76, her health was failing. Her heart was weak, and hernias she had suffered for years caused increasing pain. When a doctor said she needed immediate surgery, true to form, she balked at the cost. "You're all just a bunch of robbers," she told them, and continued using a stick pressed against the swelling. Her relationship with her children grew closer in those final years. Ned had become a powerful Texas political figure, serving as the Republican State Chairman, but when Heide wrote asking him to help with business affairs, he dropped everything in rushed to New York. He moved her office next to his and gradually took over more of Harris. Still, she couldn't completely let go. If you heard her, put me over the jumps every day. You'd think she was as sharp as ever. Ned told reporters in 1915, "She scold me for the way I handle her affairs," and says she surely made a mistake in my education. On July 3rd, 1916, Heide Green died at her son's country home in Bellow's Falls. The same Vermont town where she had once been mocked for her shabby clothes and penny-pinching whiz. The woman who had spent her life fighting for every dollar died while arguing with her cook over the cost of milk. Even in her final breath, she remained true to character, vigilant, uncompromising, and absolutely certain of the value of a penny. She had outlived the wailing industry to build her father's fortune, survived and thrived in every financial panic from 1873 to 1907, an accumulated wealth that dwarfed most railroad kings and oil barons of the era. But perhaps the most remarkable thing about Heide Green wasn't how much money she made, it was that she made it entirely on her own terms, in a world that never wanted to let her. When they buried Heide Green beside her husband in Bellow's Falls, the world lost more than just the richest woman in America. It lost a pioneer who had carved a path through Wall Street's granite face. Proving that financial genius knows no gender, the New York Times came closest to capturing her essence. They wrote, "If a man had lived as did Miss Heide Green, devoting the greater part of his time and mind to increasing an inherited fortune, nobody would have seen him as very peculiar. He would have done about what is expected of the average man so circumstance." But because she was a woman, she became a curiosity, a contradiction, a story too complex for simple headlines or easy explanations. Her children inherited not just her fortune, but her fierce independence. Ned continued running the Texas Midland Railroad and became a major Texas political force. Living on the grand scale, his mother had denied herself. He collected stamps and coins with the passion she had shown for stocks and bonds, eventually amassing one of the world's finest collections. Sylvie freed from her mother's shadow, Flores quietly. As her husband, Matthew Astor Wilkes, she became a generous patron of the arts and education, supporting institutions from Harvard to Columbia. She was also known for her philanthropic work. She gave away millions to causes her mother might not have chosen, but in a spirit that Heide would have understood, deliberately, thoroughly, and without seeking a claim. Perhaps this was Heide's true legacy, not the money itself, but the freedom it provided. She had fought her entire life for the right to control her own destiny and she passed that freedom to her children. Her investment philosophy would be vindicated by time. What seemed like penny pinching at the time was actually discipline investing. Buy when everyone wants to sell and sell when everyone wants to buy became the foundation of fortune's far greater than hers. Warren Buffett, living modestly in Omaha, while managing billions, follows principles Heide would have approved of. But what Buffett is celebrated as a sage, Heide was often dismissed as eccentric. The $100 million she left behind has long since been dispersed, flowing into libraries and hospitals and universities and parks. The building she owned had been demolished or renovated beyond recognition. The railroad she controlled had merged, failed or evolved into something unrecognizable. But the path she carved remains. Heide blazed the trail. She proved that the only currency that matters in finance is competence. Heide died as she lived on her own terms, beholden to no one, having built something through sheer force and will and intellect. She wasn't the end exactly what she had always claimed to be, a woman of business, nothing more, nothing less and nothing to apologize for. Before we get into some of the reflections, I want to sum up some of the wisdom of Heide Green in her own words. And I'm going to just quote her here. So before deciding on an investment, seek out every kind of information about it. Watch your pennies and the dollars will take care of themselves. This reminds me of what Indra Nuri said in our episode about focusing on the right side of the decimal. Before making a deal, if anyone is full enough to offer you the full amount, take it. If you're offered less, tell them in, you'll give them an answer in the morning. Think the matter over carefully in the evening. If you decide that it will be to your advantage to accept the offer, say so in the next day. And business generally don't close a bargain until you've reflected on it overnight. The secret of good nursing is common sense. Just as common sense is the secret of making money. What a man has done, women can do. It is the duty of every woman to learn to take care of her own business affairs. When good things are so low that nobody wants them, I buy them and lay them away in the safe. When owing to some new development that go up and my shares are so needed that men will pay well for them, I'm ready to sell. I'm always buying when everyone wants to sell and selling when everyone wants to buy. If one can buy a good thing at a lower cost than it has ever sold before, he may be fairly sure of getting it cheap. Railroads and real estate are things I like. Government bonds are good. They do not pay very high interest. Still, for a woman, safe and low is better than risky and high. Common sense is the most valuable possession anyone can have. I want to get into some reflections and then the lessons that I took away here. She was clearly a wolf and sheep's clothing. I wouldn't even say sheep's clothing. She dressed like a poor person. She was the only female robber baron, effectively of the age. She was resented for the plainlessness of her clothes and her diet and effectively for her austerity. She treated everyone rich or poor as equals and guarded her pennies as others would guard their gold. When we get to walk away from the story thinking that she didn't start out with a good hand because she did, but I also don't need to walk away with the story thinking that she's not amazing. It's far easier to lose money than make it. She basically took her inheritance after she got control of it in her late 30s and she 20x dead while all the chips in the world were stacked against her. There's a ton we can learn from head-e green. The whole age can be summed up into people trying to buy their social position. Head-e had this fierce independence to her that made her not want to play any of those games. In an interview explaining her priority, she said, "When it comes to spending your life, there have to be some things neglected. If you try to do too much, you can never get anywhere." One thing that most people don't know about Head-e is she cursed like a sailor, especially when she was upset. When Ned was asked the most important lesson he had learned from his mother, he replied "Without hesitation, can you guess it?" Before I say it, "Self-reliance." Okay, let's get into some of the lessons that I took away here. I got 13 that I think are really good clear takeaways. One, have a detective's eye before buying anything. Head-e researched obsessively to uncover what others missed or ignored. In purchasing a horse and buggy, she found someone with a grudge against the sailor to reveal every hidden flaw, getting it for half the asking price. This obsessive research gave her an information advantage and set her apart from her contemporaries to positioning over prediction. While others chased hot investments and bought on margin, Head-e always kept a massive cash reserve and never went into debt. In 1907, she had a million dollars in cash on my desk every day when banks were failing and credit was impossible to find. And this liquidity allowed her to buy entire towns when others were forced to sell and lend millions at reasonable rates when desperate borrowers would have basically paid anything. Everyone looks like a genius when they're in a good position. and even the smartest person looks like an idiot when they're in a bad position. Number three, buy when others are fearful and sell when they are greedy. Hedi's core investment philosophy was beautifully simple. Buy when things are low and nobody wants them. I keep them until they go up and people are crazy to get them. This wasn't just a clever saying. She executed this strategy through every financial panic from 1857 to 1907. Four, pay attention to the right side of the decimal. She often said watch your pennies and the dollars will take care of themselves. Control your own financial destiny. Hedi spent decades fighting trustees or fathers will in her aunt's estate just to gain control over her inheritance. Five, be fiercely independent. Hedi was completely comfortable trusting the results of her own thinking and judgment. She lived convinced that as a businesswoman, she was fundamentally alone and nobody else would watch out for her interest. So she had to. And while others sought the safety of consensus, Hedi felt most comfortable making decisions on her own. This independence extended to how she lived. The rules she chose to live by were her own rather than those imposed by society. Number six, structure matters. I go my own way, take no partners, risk nobody else's fortune. Number seven, she mixed patience with decisiveness. She would buy assets and tuck them away for a year, sometimes waiting decades for investments like greenbacks to pay off. Her extreme frugality, refusing to take carriages despite being worth millions, wasn't miserless. But rather an understanding that every dollar spent was a dollar that couldn't compound. Number eight, stick to your circle of confidence. Hedi concentrated on what she knew best, row roads, real estate and government bonds. She avoided complexity and speculation. She never borrowed money following her father's advice to never owe anyone anything. And kept her operations simple enough that she could manage everything herself from a desk at her bank. Number nine, make work your passion. She said, "My work is my amusement." When asked why she didn't retire, responded, "Why should I give up work? Work wasn't a burden." She was completely in love with the intellectual puzzle of investing in business and the day-to-day sort of grind. Number ten, manage risk. Hedi's approach to risk was sophisticated, yet simple. She would only invest when she was satisfied the downside risk was low and the upside was high. Number eleven, operate in private. Don't draw attention to yourself. Hedi's investments were not always known. She purchased property under fictitious name. She bought stocks under other identities. And she was praised by shrewd observers for how closely she held her positions. She moved in silence. Number twelve, stay connected to the territory. Her frugality served one other purpose that a lot of people don't think about. She kept in touch with the real world. And finally, thirteen, win, win or walk away. Even when Hedi had a lot of leverage over other people, she never took advantage of them. Thank you for listening and learning with me. I hope you loved this episode of O-Liars as much as I did. There's so many things that we can learn from Hedi Green and take away from this episode. I'll be listening to it again and again. I'll see you next week. Thanks for listening and learning with us. Be sure to sign up for my free weekly newsletter at fs.blog/newsletter. 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