Most industries have their roots in being as run of the mill has humanely possible—as little controversies as possible—while others, like ours, thrive on a few precious whack jobs to keep it lively and moving forward.

Here's a tale of one such person who made a good dent.

John Iverson designed the Eagle amplifiers under the Electron Kinetics name in the 1980s. Sam Tellig wrote in Stereophile in 1985 that the Eagle 2 was already "something of a legend, like Iverson himself" — powerful, detailed, exceptional for its $895 price. The amplifiers were serious, respected, technically accomplished. Iverson was no crank selling magic from the back of an audio magazine. He was the real thing.

And then there was this side of John.

At a party during a Stereophile show, someone asked Iverson about the best loudspeaker he'd ever heard. He described an experimental full-range plasma speaker he'd developed. The obvious question followed: why wasn't it commercialized?

Too dangerous, he said.

A fly had once flown between the operating speakers.

And disappeared.

His explanation: the speaker had apparently opened a portal into another dimension. The person asking reportedly wondered if they'd heard correctly. Iverson was serious.

In January 1991, just like the fly, Iverson vanished mysteriously from Lake Havasu City, Arizona. He was 42. Stories followed: classified technology, connections to the Strategic Defense Initiative, the FBI confiscating a loudspeaker and design notes.

Iverson had vanished into thin air. Another dimension? Had he joined the fly? Aliens?

If I'd invented this character for a novel, the editor would have sent it back.

This is part of what I love about this industry. The technology draws extraordinary minds — and extraordinary minds occasionally go to extraordinary places.

The gear matters, but it's the characters who make it unforgettable.