| | Here's a description of the moment Tesla invented the AC induction motor, from a book I read recently called Empires of Light, by Jill Jonnes.
One chilly February late afternoon in 1882, the athletic Szigety persuaded Tesla to wander forth to a city park as the sun was setting lushly. Tesla, as was his dreamy wont, began reciting poetry, Goethe's Faust, to celebrate the blazing sky before them:
The glow retreats, done is the day of toil; It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring; Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil, Upon its track to follow, follow soaring... "As I uttered these inspiring words the idea came like a flash of lightning and in an instant the truth was revealed." Tesla had been swaying and waving his arms gracefully as he declaimed, as if he were about to soar aloft. Now, tall, emaciated from his illness, he stood stock still. Szigety was worried that his friend had been stricken again and tried to steer him to a bench. Instead, Tesla swooped down and snatched a big twig. "I drew with a stick in the sand... The images I saw were wonderfully sharp and clear and had the solidity of metal and stone, so much that I told him, 'See my motor here; watch me reverse it.' I cannot begin to describe my emotions."
Here's another passage from the book:
During high school, Tesla, a prodigy in math and physics, fell even more deeply and irrevocably in thrall to the still nascent science of electricity. He alarmed his professors with his voracious and exhausting appetite for work, especially if it had to do with electricity. "It is impossible for me to convey an adequate idea of the intensity of feeling I experienced in witnessing [my physics teacher's] exhibitions of these mysterious phenomena. Every impression produced a thousand echoes in my mind. I wanted to know more of this wonderful force; I longed for experiment and investigation." And here's another passage, describing one of Tesla's thoughts at age 3:
But Tesla seemed destined only for electricity. All his life he recalled this formative episode at age three with his beloved cat, Macak. "It was dusk of the evening and I felt impelled to stroke Macak's back. Macack's back was a sheet of light and my hand produced a shower of sparks loud enough to be heard all over the place." What was this? the young boy wondered to his father. " 'Well,' [his father] finally remarked, 'this is nothing but electricity, the same thing you see on the trees in a storm.' My mother seemed alarmed. 'Stop playing with the cat,' she said, 'he might start a fire.' I was thinking abstractedly. Is nature a giant cat? If so, who strokes its back? It can only be God, I concluded... Day after day I asked myself what is electricity and found no answer."
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