Brian Edgerly

Brian Edgerly slipped away quietly on April 25th, but the echo of his laugh is still ringing in our hearts. We’re all trying to process this, finding ourselves instinctively searching for the right story, the right moment that captures the man. I remember him telling us about his time on the 1964 Olympic baseball team, not with a sense of grand glory, but with the quiet pride of someone who simply did his best. He wasn’t just an athlete; he was a philosopher on the field, having studied philosophy and religion at Colgate, where he was captain of the baseball, soccer, and ice hockey teams. He could hit a .449 average, but what we remember is the way he’d tilt his head, thinking through a problem, treating life itself as a game he was determined to play well. His love for family was his true championship. He was the steady center of our world, the one who showed up to every game, every graduation, every messy, beautiful moment. You could see the way his eyes softened when he looked at his wife and children, a love expressed in quiet glances and gentle touches. He taught us that loyalty isn’t a grand gesture, but a daily choice to show up. In his free time, you’d find him on the golf course, patiently chasing a small white ball, or curled up with a good book, finding new ideas to ponder. He found joy in the simple things—a perfectly brewed cup of coffee, a walk in the woods, the satisfaction of a job done with care. Brian’s spirit was one of gentle strength and unwavering integrity. He had a way of making everyone feel seen, offering a few kind words that could change the course of a day. His legacy isn’t in the medals or the statistics, but in the countless lives he touched with his calm presence and dry wit. He showed us how to live with purpose and grace, how to be a good friend, a devoted partner, and a thoughtful thinker. We will miss him terribly, but we will carry his wisdom, his humor, and his big, kind heart with us every single day.