First and foremost, my condolences, to Mrs. Lynch and the entire family. You all (and anyone else reading these words) won't see anything different from the norm about how wonderful Mr. Lynch was to me. His kindness, care for his students and love of family and Faith were beyond anything that I could wax poetically about. Like all who knew Ed, I loved him without hesitation. Knowing him from childhood, as I was in John's class at Washington, I was always asked about my Uncle Michael by Ed, because as I understood it, Ed's first connection with anyone with my goofy last name happened at Woodruff School in Wyandotte when Ed taught (I hope this is correct) fourth grade.
Like hundreds of other Roosevelt High School students, he was my driver's education classroom instructor. While not my personal guidance counselor, I was in his office more often than not, to just chat and laugh.
During my senior year, I was involved with the Student Council and along with my fellow seniors Gary "Kinkhead" Calvin (whom Ed asked about when I saw him the final time at Rivergate as I was also visiting my dad) and David A. Martin (RIP), Ed took us to several meetings with other schools to discuss the Great Lakes Eight Association. He had a point of making certain that we always arrived a tad late and each time told us the same thing "don't stop and sit at the table, go and get us all donuts" and each and every time, all the other kids HATED that we did that! Ed on the other hand, loved it.
He was a huge supporter of mine, handpicking me to read the bulletin each and every morning before 2nd hour began at RHS, and fought for me to keep the wacky shenanigans going on when some teachers found it a bit silly; even saying so as he played "Santa" at all three Christmas assemblies. Each time, it got a huge round of applause. He pulled me to side during the first roar of crowd and told me that he was "doing it so those a**holes will see how great it is". He didn't have to do that, but, it meant the world to me.
When I was an adult (sort of), the aformentioned Kinkhead and I, along with about five other doofuses would sing Christmas carols at people's homes and during that time, we were invited inside to have Stroh's Beer and apples. One time after my mom died (and he was so supportive when I saw him at St. Pat's after that) he invited me over to 22nd to watch "Captain's Courageous" because he was shocked that I hadn't ever seen it. So, I went over on a Sunday night and we watched it, while eating from a huge bowl of apples. Again with the apples!
But what I think of the most, and it brings a smile to my face even through the tears of my typing this awfully long diatribe, is how he loved the "La-Di-Da". We used to sing it at all of the pep assemblies in the gym. Not much was better than looking out at however many kids we had packing that gym singing that song and seeing Ed grinning from ear-to-ear. Years later, while a cantor at St. Pats, I was up in the choir loft as folks were just beginning to assemble for Mass. It was early enough, so I somehow convinced our choir director to play that song and we all sang it. First, the shoulders were shaking in that pew of his, and both the mister and missus turned around with wonderful smiles.
Edzio, you touched my heart more than I can say. Your life lessons, your love of a good joke, your Faith and your support to all your students keep all of us comforted during this terribly sad time. For everything you did for me, the simplest words come to mind and they seem apt at this time. I love you. Rest well, my friend.
Theodore (he rarely called me Ted) Butkin.
