Tour Guide, Golfer, and Fisherman
Remembering a beloved family member
The high school yearbook photo of Ed. Photo: The Portal
Memories are churning away in the days following the passing of my cousin-in-law Ed.
Ed was older than my other cousins, so I never saw him as a cousin. He was younger than my uncles, so he was not like an uncle to me. But thinking back on the things we did, the conversations we had, and the laughs we shared, he was clearly my friend.
A shot of the Yankee outfield from the seats during Ed and my visit to the Stadium in the early 1970s. Photo: Newvine Personal Collection
I wrote about Ed in two of my books. In Growing Up, Upstate, I share the story about the time Ed took me to New York City to see the City for the first time, and to see the Yankees take on the California Angels.
In Growing Up, Upstate, I share the story about the time Ed took me to New York City to see the City for the first time, and to see the Yankees take on the California Angels. Ed's cousin suggested we drive into the city.
We drove all over midtown Manhattan well past midnight. When we got back that night we were introduced to the family St. Bernard. When the dog snarled at Ed, he punched it in the nose. The dog never bothered us for the rest of the weekend. As with most of life's adventures, it wasn't about the game.
It was about driving to New York, seeing the city at night, and getting to the stadium the next day. All of it made for a memorable weekend in my life.
In Course Corrections, I devoted a chapter to a family golf tournament Ed organized.
Here’s an excerpt:
In the 1980s, I played golf with Ed many times when visiting my folks in northern New York. Midway through the decade, he conceived an idea for a family-wide golf tournament. ..The Snyder side of the family, my mother’s side, took a lot of pride in our gatherings. Thanksgiving dinner was held at our matriarch Kate’s home then later at my mom’s house.
Easter dinner started with Grandma Kate’s home, then later moved to my aunt Tootie’s place. There was generally at least one outing every summer on Lake Ontario.
With frequent graduations, confirmations, and other special events, there seemed to be a lot of times when the extended family would get together… ..For a few hours on a Saturday, we played, we laughed, and we admired our tee-shirts (specially designed for the event) . ..non players like my Mom and Dad, showed up to provide moral support before heading over to Ed’s house for the post tournament picnic. There, everyone showed up with pot luck dishes in hand.
After our meal, Ed took on the role as master of ceremonies and awarded prizes to the outstanding golfers. It seems as though just about every player picked up some kind of prize. We had a few laughs. The children enjoyed the festivities. Some of us thought: wait until next year.
Ed did not teach me how to fish, but he sure made it a heck of a lot more fun.
I was a teenager when Ed and I were talking about fishing. His grandfather had a pond that had a lot of bullheads ready for the taking. We both had fishing poles so we decided to have a go at it. We must have caught at least a couple of dozen of them.
I say “we” caught them but Ed took them off the lines. Bullheads have a sting and like any fish, they are going to fight as they are taken off a line.
We caught so many fish that Ed made a third fishing pole out of a long tree branch. He tied fishing line to one end, attached a hook to the string and watched as the fish gobbled away.
When we ran out of space in our bucket, we left the pond and headed to my uncle’s house who cleaned the fish. My uncle’s family ate the fish the next day. I did not care about eating the fish; I just enjoyed the adventure of it all.
With his daughter’s help, Ed wrote a book about a memorable family member. He served our military by way of the US Air Force.
His father was killed in action in the closing months of World War II. All of this helped shape him into the man he became. He was a logger most of his working life.
His work was primarily done in upstate New York, but it took him out-of-state including the west for a brief time. Work injuries forced him to give up the job.
He died from heart complications that intensified following his second COVID vaccination. He leaves behind two children, his dear wife, a ton of relatives, and many friends.
I miss him, and regret that COVID concerns likely kept my dad and me from visiting him on my last trip upstate. But I have the memories. And they are good memories.
Steve Newvine lives in Merced.
His books: Growing Up, Upstate and Course Corrections are available at lulu.com