In Memoriam

This is a rare thing to post so soon after my last but I find that I am compelled by recent events. My first 'real' boss recently passed on and I am left in a nostalgic mood. I had other employment prior to meeting Ed Gresh in the early 90s all of which where your typical fair of High School jobs including shop boy (I believe that was the official title) at a NAPA store and flipping burgers. In each I obviously had supervisor(s) but I always think of Ed as my first boss. I had recently graduated High School and was naively looking for a job in Gainesville closer to the University I would eventually attend. I was lucky really, a friend of a friend had heard that Ed was looking for people and that I was looking for work and arranged for us to meet. Having never interviewed before I had no clue what to expect or prepare for but had a short pleasant conversation with Ed about what he needed done and if I was willing to do it. It seemed like a good fit and so I went for it and never since regretted it.

Along the way I met probably the most diverse cast of characters imaginable. That group became a family in a very real way. To this day we remain brothers both unique as individuals and linked by common bonds. Ed was our patriarch and we even had a crazy weird uncle Jim.

Ed introduced us to in-office politics but at the same time shielded us from much of it. Through my association with Ed I was able to meet the players in Tigert Hall. Even if the University President couldn't recall my name immediately , he knew I was one of 'Ed's guys'. I will not forget going to the home of the Department head of Architecture in the Duck Pond neighborhood for the departing Provost's son's wedding reception. I also have to wonder if Prof. Auxter ever figured out we had went ahead and wired his office anyway while he was out.

We had access to some pretty interesting areas of campus and in many cases foreknowledge of changes coming down the pipe. UF became more than the school I attended but a sort of second home that I still feel an odd sort of ownership in because it was 'our' campus.

Car 285 may be long gone to the scrap heap but back in the day it was the chariot of the gods as we descended on whatever unsuspecting department with power and authority to bring them the gift of being connected to the campus network. We parked wherever we liked no matter if it was paved, marked or was simply a sidewalk. It was as if fear went before us and with good reason with Jim at the helm of our very own Millennium Falcon. Somehow the motor pool kept that sled going long after the original engineers would have pronounced her dead and every dent was a badge of honor. That didn't stop us from trying to pull out some of those dents but we had more success on the other random cars in the parking garage in our incarnation as the mysterious marauding dent pullers.

Ed always wished the best for us. When I left on my mission to the Philippines he wished me luck and told me stories of his time there in the Air Force. When I came back and I had a lunch with all the guys, he asked when I wanted to come back to work. I told him next week and that was it. We picked right back up as if there was never a question or doubt that we would.

I learned what a dumb terminal was from Ed and by insisting on lugging 3278s by myself I earned the nickname 'Moose' from him. The name only came into use when we were moving those boat anchors. We were so excited to move our collection of old iron terminals from the practically haunted Flint to our batcave in Norman hall. It was here that Ed could now hold court.

We had a fridge and space to hang out and call our own. We kept soda in the fridge communally that Sean would crank the cap on so tight we needed pliers to get them off. Ed once tried to shoot a cap off an empty 2 liter bottle at me by jumping on it. I think he got the worst of it when the bottle rolled and he ended up on his back with his feet in the air. As our family grew and the cast of characters moved and changed, it was back to Norman hall basement we would return to see and be seen by those who remained. I wonder if the concrete walk in front of the basement entrance still bears our inscription.

Our significant others knew the secret knocks as well and on more than one occasion my girlfriend/fiance/wife Cheryl would go there either looking for me or some of the other guys when she needed a hand. The two best men for my wedding and favorite friends were in that crew. Sheard, Sean and I were in two weddings that year, we just shifted spots. It was from Ed that I got my most memorable and practical newlywed advice. It was from Norman hall after a day of work that Cheryl was picking me up from that she confirmed her pregnancy with our oldest.

I know that we will never forget Ed or the time that we shared. I am grateful to have known him. Perhaps now that this is written, I can get back to real work.