Morse Code Began with a Broken Heart
When a letter arrived too late, one man was determined to fastrack communication.
Samuel Morse didn’t dream of inventing a new form of communication. He dreamed of being an artist.
In 1825, Morse was living in Connecticut with his wife, Lucretia, and two sons. He was a talented artist, but was struggling to earn enough money through his paintings to support his growing family. His wife was pregnant with their third child when he was given an incredible opportunity. Really, the opportunity of a lifetime for him as a painter. He was asked by the City of New York to paint a celebrated Revolutionary War general, the Marquis de Lafayette, who would be arriving in D.C. very shortly. If the painter wanted the commission (worth $1000), he would have to leave immediately.
He packed his bags, kissed his wife and two young sons goodbye, and left the following morning.
A week later, he was in DC when he heard a knock at the door of his rented studio. A courier arrived with a letter that read,
“Your dear wife is convalescent.”
He never painted the portrait. He left that night to race home and be by her side. It took him six days of riding on horseback and in the back of covered wagons to arrive back home in Connecticut, only to learn that his wife was dead. She had actually died before the letter had reached Morse.
I heard this story (thanks to a referral by
) on The Memory Palace podcast. And wanted to share the next part of this story exactly as the host, did:“Samuel Finley Breese Morse spent the next 45 years of his life trying to make sure no one would have to feel the way he felt ever again. Samuel Finley Breese Morse spent the next 45 years inventing the telegraph to turn real space and real distance into illusion and developing Morse Code. Dots and lines that could transmit the stuff of real lives and of dying wives.”
, The Memory Palace
Morse couldn’t change what happened, but he could change what happened next. His why wasn’t ambition. It was love.
Words of the Week
“Though suddenly called from Earth, eternity was no stranger to her thoughts, but a welcome theme of contemplation.” — A line engraved on the tombstone of Lucretia Pickering Walker Morse
Photo of the Week
It felt fitting to share this stencil I came across on a sidewalk in September 2020 in Bellport, Long Island. Michael, Carolina and and I had begun taking day trips on the weekends during the pandemic and driving to places we had read about but never visited. Bellport was on our list. It was our day of exploring the town that began our relationship with Mark and Tonja from Marquee Projects, a fantastic contemporary art gallery in the center of town. There’s a great restaurant, Porters, across the street, an ice-cream parlor next-door, and a handful of well-curated shops, like Copper Beech by the Sea.
Two Truths and a Lie
Can you spot the lie?
I’m a licensed NYC Tour Guide.
I can touch my tongue to my nose.
My first concert was Debbie Gibson.
I’ve recently rekindled my walking tour business and wanted to share the website, Sidewalk Secrets, with you all. If you’re in the NYC area and are interested in taking a tour, please reach out for more info. I have a series of pre-programmed tours ready to go (you’ll find them on the website), and I also specialize in custom tours that satisfy your curiosity and align with your interests.
In the coming weeks, I’ll be taking a group around the West Village for a combined history/food tour, celebrating a father’s birthday with an East Village Street Art/Gallery walk, and taking co-workers out to explore the secret shops of Midtown.
If you’re in NYC, as a resident or a tourist, check out the website, and reach out if you’d like to book a tour. Subscribers to Fly Bravely receive 10% off with code: FLY10 for tours booked between now and December 1st.
The Lie: The concert was the lie. My first concert was Tiffany + New Kids on the Block. And it was thanks to reader, Karen, that I was there alongside two of my best friends from elementary school, June and Stephanie.
Beautiful (and bittersweet)
Thank you, Lia.