With grateful hearts and enduring love, we mark the passing of Edward Joseph Deegan on November 9, 2019. Ed was born in West Virginia on December 29, 1923, the oldest son of five siblings, and raised in Pennsylvania. He was an exemplary standard-bearer for the Greatest Generation. At eight years of age in the midst of the Great Depression, Ed became the man of the family. His mother, Mary, found work in Pittsburgh, and Ed and his siblings were taken in by his maternal grandparents, Nikolas and Anna Stefanik.
Ed was a devout Catholic and a man of unfaltering faith and integrity. As he would throughout his life, Ed took his family responsibilities seriously. The occasional handful of change given him by his Uncle Rudy was carefully collected in a special box and used to buy shoes for his sister and two brothers. He was proud of climbing the California, Pennsylvania, hills to fulfill the duties of his paper route, though he did have to use a wheelbarrow on Sunday—when the papers were too heavy for him to carry.
Ed was called to defend his country in 1942, at 18 years of age. He chose naval service as an electrician EM2 on a destroyer, the USS Gillette (DE-681), figuring that this duty guaranteed him a bed to sleep in and three hot meals a day. He would tell you with conviction that it was the best decision he ever made. The life of the carousing sailor in ports of call was not for Ed. He stayed on his ship and sent all of his savings home to Grandpap Stefanik to support the family. The apple did not fall far from the tree. When Ed returned from the war, his Grandpap presented him with every penny of his wages, carefully saved for him in his absence.
After the war, Ed followed his enterprising and fearless sister Betty to Detroit, where he found work as an electrician for the Ford Motor Company and bought a house with his savings. It was Betty who learned about the Tip Toppers Club, a gathering place for tall singles—urging her brother to attend. As Ed made his way through the parking lot to his first Tip Toppers event, he encountered Ruth May Kirchner. Ed abandoned his dating mission in the time it took him to walk with Ruth through the door to that first meeting. She was the one. They married on November 30, 1957. Shared values and unwavering love illuminated their 62 years of marriage. When one of the nurses caring for Ed during a hospital stay in 2019 remarked that Ruth must have been quite the looker in her day, Ed shot her a look of puzzlement. “She still is!” he declared with utter conviction.
Upon the birth of each of Ed’s four daughters, he made a trip to the bank to open a college savings account. “If something ever happens to your husbands,” he told us, with his own mother in mind, “I want you to be able to support yourselves.” In his dedication to provide for his family, Ed exceeded his own objectives. He retired from the Ford Motor Company at 53 years of age, as his eldest daughter completed high school, and proceeded to pay for 30 years of college and graduate education for his girls. We graduated from law school, medical school, veterinary college, and nursing college without a penny of student debt. “I can’t think of a better use for my money,” he would say. “Your education is something no one can ever take away from you. You have done your best, and I love you all, for many good reasons.”
Ed also loved gardening. Tomatoes, peppers, beans, asparagus, squash, broccoli, and strawberries flourished in immaculately straight rows on his three-acre plot, along with fruit trees and a grape arbor. Fresh produce filled the table and the cellar—and did double duty as another income source and teaching opportunity. Ed’s talent for saving was supported by natural instincts in sales and marketing. He gave his sister’s son Jim his first lesson in marketing, showing him how to reserve the biggest raspberries for the top of the carton when Jim sold berries door to door. Later, his daughters received the same lessons when selling strawberries in the neighborhood. When he found work boots at rock-bottom prices for his girls, he presented them as authentic “cowgirl boots.” We wore them with delight.
His counsel is treasured, often with affectionate hilarity. He regularly reminded us that we could work for our money, or make our money work for us. (You can guess which option Ed preferred.) He knew that health was wealth and believed that family always came first. Christmas trees were traditionally purchased at the eleventh hour—after they went on sale at Frank’s Nursery. That bare spot was simply backed into the corner of a living room suffused with love and warmth as extended family gathered to celebrate.
Ed’s 100-acre retirement farm in Wisconsin, with its forested ridges and stone fences, was the realization of a dream, and he loved his life there. Every morning, he woke up excited to plan his day while he stirred up a fresh batch of his famous carrot cake muffins. Accompanied by the farm cat that followed him everywhere, he chopped felled trees into firewood or dragged logs back to his woodworking shop to be fashioned into furniture. In November, relatives descended for deer hunting season. In summertime, he continued to garden. His plot was a bit smaller by then, but the rows were as straight as ever.
He was always ready with a joke—the same three jokes, in fact. We came to know them by heart. So did his friends and neighbors, doctors and nurses, and anyone with whom he struck up a conversation. He had one card trick—which he remembered how to execute about 50 percent of the time. In his wallet, he carried his devotional prayer cards, walkin’-around cash, a folded note listing the birthdays of his wife and daughters, and crib notes for that card trick.
His grandson, Trevor, was his joy. Ed loved discussing economics and the stock market with Trev, always telling him, “You are going to go far.” And indeed, Trevor flew across the country when he learned that his grandfather was declining rapidly. He caught a plane from San Francisco to be at Ed’s bedside. An hour after Trevor arrived to lavish his grandfather with tales and affection, Ed quietly took his last breath as his daughters held his hands. We are convinced that he’d been holding on to hear Trevor’s voice one more time.
Edward is survived by his loving wife, Ruth, daughters Marian Deegan (Tim Prokott), Carolyn Deegan (Robert Zukowski), Janet Deegan, Susan Deegan, grandson Trevor Lewis, brother Thomas Deegan, and a wide-flung affectionate tribe of cousins, second cousins, nieces, and nephews. He was predeceased by his parents and grandparents, sisters Helen (who died in infancy) and Betty, and brother Joseph.
Edward’s only expectation of his daughters was that we do our best. At every good-bye, he never failed to say, “I love you, for many good reasons.” In the final months of his life, Ed firmly instructed us, “Do not be sad when I die. You did everything you could for me. You did your best.” We are doing our best now to honor our father’s last wish. And we will always carry him in our hearts with love. For many good reasons.
A funeral Mass and memorial celebration will be held in the spring—every gardener’s favorite season. His family wishes to extend a special thanks to the spectacular physicians, nurses, hospice staff, and caregivers who provided such kind and compassionate care, particularly during the past year. For those who wish to honor his memory, nothing would please Dad more than to know that his life inspired you to support or celebrate your own family.
Author: News Desk
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