To One of this Nation's Heros

In January 2001 I drove 1775 miles from Neenah, Wisconsin to take a new job in Nampa, Idaho.  Shortly after arriving, found out I had a couple of new Quality Engineers hired by the company.  One was a salty olde dog, former Navy, gruff on the outside, but I was soon to learn with a heart of Gold on the inside, and a man to be admired.  From that day Ed LePard has had a significant impact on my life as a true friend. In the sixties, Ed was a member of a Seal Team in Vietnam.  Clearly most of his work for his country, if not all will never be told, but he eventually returned to the states after taking a claymore mine in the face while on a patrol.  After weeks in the hospital, and considerable face reconstruction, he came out of it and was determined to continue making a go at life and contributing to this nation.  Unfortunately, he and his wife split up, but he over came the challenge of a divorce.  Taking his Navy education money, he went back to school and became an engineer.  He subsequently learned he had cancer, and as with his time and tragedy in Vietnam, rolled with the punches, fought back and overcame his cancer.  The great news is while in the hospital in Bethesda he bought a lottery ticket on a whim and hit the lottery.  After establishing education funds for his grandkids he went back to work and continued to become a successful quality engineer in the electronic field.  During that time, Ed applied for and received several patents, adding to the benefit of the electronics industry, and contributing to society in yet another way beside his service in the military.  When I was fortunate enough to meet Ed, we were working together on a team of individuals trying to save a failing electronics company.  We actually had the bottom line turned into the black for about three months when the tragedy of 9/11 struck.  The economy tanked, the electronics industry dried up, and subsequently we were both out of a job.  Once again, Ed didn't let it get him down.  He moved to Montana for awhile with the hopes of opening a fishing lodge. Unfortunately, the environmental folks wouldn't approve building on the location, or the business and so Ed moved on.  By then, he was old enough to consider just taking retirement.  He moved back to Pennsylvania with his Old English Sheep dog Heidi and the two of them set up house together in Carlisle.  Not long after that Ed called and let me know Heidi had cancer and they had amputated one leg.  With just three legs she didn't get around well, but Ed would take her for rides in the new Dodge Ram truck he bought just before leaving Idaho. Ed and his family weren't close, and I tried on numerous occassions to talk him into returning to Idaho where we could just be a couple of olde retired guys hanging out together.  But, his daughter and grandson were in that area and he had hopes of reestablishing family ties someday.  In the fall of 2008 Ed had a stroke and once again was challenged beyond what the vast majority of any of us ever are.  But, in the same old manner, he fought back, got out of the hospital, moved to a nursing home, and subsequently managed to get enough mobility that they allowed him to return home.  Being alone, it was clearly tough, there wasn't anyone there to pick-up a dropped dish, or help with his shoes and socks in the morning, but Ed faced it and won.  Then he had another stroke and went back into the hospital.  I was able to take a 5000 mile bike trip in the summer of 2009.  Saw lots of family and friends along the way, but my trip ended up at Ed's house.  I was only there for three nights, but I went to the hospital every day, and we were able to share lies, swap stories, and talk Navy.  It was some of the best three days of my life.  Just seeing the smile on his face and watching his eyes light up because it was someone new to talk to was the greatest reward of all.  In addition to the Navy, another love we shared was for a good scotch.  And of course, I drank his scotch.  The doctor wouldn't let him have any alcohol. But, he made sure I'd found where he kept it so I could have some when I went back to the house at night. Now on my budget a good scotch is on occasion a Johnny Walker Green Label.  However, after winning the lottery, Ed said the one thing he promised himself was he'd drink nothing but the best scotches.  His everyday, around the house sipping whiskey was Johnny Walker White Label.  I love Ed for who he was, but gotta say, it was no bad deal being offered White Label anytime I went to visit him.  Of course, good scotch is only half the fortune.  The other half was seeing the relics from wars gone by Ed had collected and displayed in his home along with numerous stories he had to share from his personal experiences.  How I loved just sitting sipping his 'good stuff' and hearing his 'great stories.'  I remember when he called me just before Thanksgiving that same year and told me he was doing the holidays with his daughter and grandson.  It is impossible for me to describe the joy I heard in his voice as he told me about looking forward to sharing time with his family.  I don't have any idea what happened or why he and his family were estranged, but I do know how much it meant for him to get back with them for that holiday.  After the visit his call was just as filled with the excitement of having seen his grand. I was so happy for him and hoped it would increase in frequency, but it didn't seem to happen. Ed was very fortunate to have a good friend and neighbor, Bill Piekos who looked in on him, helped get him groceries, picked him up on weekends and took him out for drives, and often invited Ed to the house for holidays.  People like that are precious few, and worth so much.  Without family, Bill became like family to Ed.  I'm just glad Bill was there for Ed and cared enough about another human being to look in on and after him as much as he did. On January 6th, Bill wrote to say Ed had gone into the hospital again, and tho he was stable was likely going to be there some time.   I called the hospital a couple days later, but the nurse said Ed was unable to talk.  On January 11th, Bill emailed again to let me know they were taking Ed off the ventilator and stopping all medicines except for morphine to manage the pain.  Bill called Ed's daughter to see if she wanted to be with him at the end, but time was not ample enough for her to get there in time.  That evening Ed passed at 2025 Eastern time--only Bill was there with him. So not to take from the tragic shooting in Arizona, but we had politicians lining up to go down there and make speeches and talk about how sad it is, and it truly was.  But it's also sad that here we had a Navy veteran who but for the love and kindness of Bill Piekos would have died alone, after everything he's done for this country, both as a military member and a civilian. I guess there's just no political advantage in recognizing this one lone sailor.  But Ed isn't alone, there are a number of soldiers, marines and sailors giving their lives every day for this nation, and half the time, in half the cities throughout this country no one even knows who they are or from whence they came. Where are our values?  How can we accept all the freedoms and privileges we have because of these people, but then leave them to die by themselves, unacknowledged?  What happened to what's really important?  It seems the only thing the majority values anymore are votes, and what someone else can do for them.  Ed, I know the members of your Seal Team haven't forgotten you!  When I called your Team member Dennis, he made sure word was passed to several other team members.  Ed you are part of a very elite brotherhood, and do not go alone and unrecognized from them.  To every member of those Seal Teams, thank you for what you do, that we never hear or know about. Thank you for the family you have among yourselves.  And Ed, thank you for letting me be your friend, and share in your life just a little bit.  VR, Mags