The Edison Company offered me the general superintendency of the company
but only on condition that I would give up my gas engine and devote
myself to something really useful. I had to choose between my job and my
automobile. I chose the automobile, or rather I gave up the job--there
was really nothing in the way of a choice. For already I knew that the
car was bound to be a success. I quit my job on August 15, 1899, and
went into the automobile business.

It might be thought something of a step, for I had no personal funds.
What money was left over from living was all used in experimenting. But
my wife agreed that the automobile could not be given up--that we had to
make or break. There was no "demand" for automobiles--there never is for
a new article. They were accepted in much the fashion as was more
recently the airplane. At first the "horseless carriage" was considered
merely a freak notion and many wise people explained with particularity
why it could never be more than a toy. No man of money even thought of
it as a commercial possibility. I cannot imagine why each new means of
transportation meets with such opposition. There are even those to-day
who shake their heads and talk about the luxury of the automobile and
only grudgingly admit that perhaps the motor truck is of some use. But
in the beginning there was hardly any one who sensed that the automobile
could be a large factor in industry. The most optimistic hoped only for
a development akin to that of the bicycle. When it was found that an
automobile really could go and several makers started to put out cars,
the immediate query was as to which would go fastest. It was a curious
but natural development--that racing idea. I never thought anything of
racing, but the public refused to consider the automobile in any light
other than as a fast toy. Therefore later we had to race. The industry
was held back by this initial racing slant, for the attention of the
makers was diverted to making fast rather than good cars. It was a