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Conclusion

On a quiet hillside in Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Los Angeles I conducted the memorial service for my brother Richard—the one who shared my sense of discovery with the 1956 Buick we tore apart when we were kids. It seemed as though my whole being was consumed by questions on that hillside, some of which didn’t have answers.

At that moment, it occurred to me that discovery had became a way of life at an early age. My impulse to question and learn, and my desire to hear other people engage in discovery, was partly to blame for my setting aside a career as a preacher. The other part was money—you have to make a living, of course, so I took my unbridled curiosity and applied it sales, where it was both a good fit and a profitable one. ...