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Join Wundry Plus in the Wundery app or on Apple Podcasts. One It's October 21st, 1931, inside a Grand Hall at the Edison Estate in Glenmount, New Jersey.

A select group of mourners have gathered to pay their

respects to the American inventor Thomas Edison. He had recently passed away at

the age of 84. The billionaire carmaker Henry Ford is among them, standing off to the side of the room,

thinking back to the good times he shared with Edison. The two men were great friends, and Henry

can't say that about many people. He certainly can't say it about most of the other mourners. Henry looks around the room with bitterness until his eyes come to rest on Pierre DuPont, the former head of General Motors.

Over the years Pierre and Henry have had several run-ins and on this day

above all others Henry doesn't want to spend a single second in his company.

So he tries to look away, but it's too late. Their eyes have met.

Pierre crosses the room with his arms outstretched and a large dose of what Henry believes to be false sorrow.

Oh Henry, what can I say? Oh Henry, what can I say?

We've lost one of the best, just one of the best.

Well, thank you for your condolences Pierre.

Henry nods curtly, hoping to end the conversation there, but Pierre places his hand on his sleeve.

But why'll I have you, Henry, I wanted to share a little of something.

Henry frees his arm from the man's grip.

Yes, what is it?

Well, an invention, one that our dear friend Thomas would have been thrilled by, I'm sure.

Pierre reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small package wrapped in paper.

He unfolds it to reveal a cube of dark, spongy

material. Henry wrinkles his nose. It has a pungent smell. Do you know what

...