‘Aren’t you a fool to be worrying yourself into stomach ulcers overa bridge which has never yet collapsed， and over a railroad wreckwhen the chances are five thousand to one against it！’
“When I looked at it that way，” Jim Grant told me， “I feltpretty silly. I decided then and there to let the law of averagesdo the worrying for me—and I have not been troubled with my‘stomach ulcer’ since！”
When Al Smith was Governor of New York， I heard himanswer the attacks of his political enemies by saying over andover： “Let’s examine the record ... let’s examine the record.”
Then he proceeded to give the facts. The next time you and I areworrying about what may happen， let’s take a tip from wise oldAl Smith： Let’s examine the record and see what basis there is， ifany， for our gnawing anxieties. That is precisely what FrederickJ. Mahlstedt did when he feared he was lying in his grave. Here ishis story as he told it to one of our adult-education classes in NewYork：
“Early in June， 1944， I was lying in a slit trench near OmahaBeach. I was with the 999th Signal Service Company， and wehad just ‘dug in’ in Normandy. As I looked around at that slittrench—just a rectangular hole in the ground—I said to myself：
‘this looks just like a grave.’ When I lay down and tried to sleepin it， it felt like a grave. I couldn’t help saying to myself： ‘maybe this is my grave.’ When the German bombers began coming overat 11 p.m.， and the bombs started falling， I was scared stiff. Forthe first two or three nights I couldn’t sleep at all. By the fourthor fifth night， I was almost a nervous wreck. I knew that if I didn’tdo something， I would go stark crazy. So I reminded myself thatfive nights had passed， and I was still alive； and so was every manin our outfit. Only two had been injured， and they had been hurt，not by German bombs， but by falling flak， from our own antiaircraftguns. I decided to stop worrying by doing somethingconstructive. So I built a thick wooden roof over my slit trench，to protect myself from flak. I thought of the vast area over whichmy unit was spread. I told myself that the only way I could bekilled in that deep， narrow slit trench was by a direct hit； and Ifigured out that the chance of a direct hit on me was not one inten thousand. After a couple of nights of looking at it in this way，I calmed down and slept even through the bomb raids！”
The United States Navy used the statistics of the law ofaverages to buck up the morale of their men. One ex-sailor toldme that when he and his shipmates were assigned to high-octanetankers， they were worried stiff. They all believed that if a tankerloaded with high-octane gasoline was hit by a torpedo， it explodedand blew everybody to kingdom come.
But the U.S. Navy knew otherwise； so the Navy issued exactfigures， showing that out of one hundred tankers hit by torpedoessixty stayed afloat； and of the forty that did sink， only five sank inless than ten minutes. That meant time to get off the ship—it alsomeant casualties were exceedingly small. Did this help morale？
“This knowledge of the law of averages wiped out my jitters，” saidClyde W. Maas， of 1969 Walnut Street， St. Paul， Minnesota-theman who told this story. “The whole crew felt better. We knew we had a chance； and that， by the law of averages， we probablywouldn’t be killed.”
To break the worry habit before it breaks you—here is Rule 3：
“Let’s examine the record.” Let’s ask ourselves： “What arethe chances， according to the law of averages， that this event I amworrying about will ever occur？”