One year later we can’t forget him. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He made computers and phones and MP3 players. He wasn’t a political figure, a missionary, a healer. He was a guy who knew how to put software into hardware and make the whole as desirable to many as air.

The stories of great men are often intertwined. The great clockmakers of the 1700s all lived together and worked together on the same block, their shops open on the Place Dauphine, a triangular park at the prow of the Île de la Cité. The geniuses of Bletchley Park came together to crack the codes that won the war. The Beats roared through the country looking for love, booze, and enlightenment. Their fates, the fates of Breguet, Turing, Kerouac, Ginsberg, depended on their networks the way a spider depends on her web.

Jobs was the same. He grew…

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