I knew a guy whose grandfather was a tailor in Fort Meyers, and made clothes for Edison. Several suits were returned for some reason, and granddad saved them and, years later, altered them to fit his grandson. I was promised one of them, but unfortunately my friend died suddenly & I could never contact his family.
Now, up in the attic, I have a genuine sorta-Edison souvenir, which I took only because I didn't want to hurt someone's feelings: a kitchen chair from a chemist who worked for Edison. A bit of a third-hand souvenir, and it's gawd-awfully ugly, too. That'll go in the trash, one of these days. Oh wait, it should go onto ee-baee, shouldn't it?
