Unlike foe Edison, who trudged through dogged
study, you divined grand inventions in
fully constructed visions. Teachers dodged
your genius, would accuse you of cheating
for solving calculus problems in your
head. At 24, you foresaw AC
currents propelling induction motors
as you recited Goethe. Poetry,
then, would shake science. Your great idea
would change lives, lead to electric power
grids, stun thousands at Chicago’s fair—a
“City of Light”—soon see its glow shower
the globe. Years later, dead of heart failure,
the feds tried to steal your private papers.
Roger Armbrust
July 19, 2007
