This is the fourth time I’ve written about Ed’s birthday. I hope to write at least a dozen more. He turned 103 last Thursday. After our successful move north, I drove back to play poker with the boys to celebrate the event.
The poker game was much like our other games except this time we sang to our senior member. Like always, the group shared a lot of stories. Ed mentioned that he had read my most recent blog about getting turned down for a date. He shared that he had similar fears in his youth. He liked to dance but was afraid of getting turned down when asking a girl. As he spoke I flashed back to the dances I attended at Clara Barton Junior High. The boys gathered on one side of the gym and the girls on the other. I imagined Ed standing next to me, taking a deep breath, and making that long walk across the gym floor hoping the girl with the pretty blue eyes would say “yes”.
Ed has seen more of life than any of us. Woodrow Wilson was president when he was born. We’ve had a total of 18 presidents during his lifetime. That’s almost a third of our country’s history. The Spanish Flu, with its estimated 20 – 50 million world-wide deaths, ran its course during his second year. The coronavirus during his 103rd year, and its current world-wide death total standing just north of 1.4 million, is a distant second. He’s seen both.
Each summer the poker group plays golf together at least once. This year with the coronavirus lurking about, we played just nine holes. We teed it up at Ed’s home course, Sharp Park, in Jackson. We had two teams of four, and I was fortunate to be on Ed’s winning team. We played a modified scramble. Each player hit a drive, the team chose the best shot, and each of us played our own ball in from that spot. Everyone got one mulligan to use anywhere on the course. Ed’s not one to brag, but I will. On the second hole, a parr three, Ed attempted a 20 foot putt from the fringe. He missed. He used his mulligan and sank his second attempt. Birdie for us.
A few holes later, he sank another 20 plus footer to save parr, but my favorite shot of the day was Ed’s last. I was standing with him about twenty yards short of the green. He turned to me and said, “Back in the day I would chip this up and get close enough to tap it in. Up and down in two.” And then I said, “You’re older and wiser now. Just chip it in!” So he did! Amazing!
There’s an old phrase I first heard in my youth… Steady Eddie. If you check out the urban dictionary you’ll read things like “reliable”, “straight forward”, and “a man you can always count on”. What you see is what you get. That’s Ed. He’s not flashy or pretentious. He’s just a man who keeps on keeping on, and I’m very proud that he’s my friend.