2014 Story of Empowerment
"Ed"
My younger brother, Ed, was the result of a late
planned pregnancy. In 1952, Mom and Dad adopted three children ages 6, 4, and
2. Three months after the adoption was final, Mom was pregnant with me. Two
years later, my parents took in Mom’s 18-month-old nephew. During the next
three years, while struggling to feed the existing five children, Dad kept
insisting he wanted a natural born son. With five in tow
already, and absolutely no help with the child rearing, Mom
didn’t want another child. But Dad was persistent, and eventually Mom granted
his wish. Ed was born in July of 1958. Six years and six children. Instant
family.
Oh what a glorious day it was when baby Ed arrived home! My two sisters and I now had a living, breathing baby doll to play with all we wanted. And he evened up the team –– three boys and three girls. One of my sisters describes Ed’s earliest years by saying, “It’s a wonder he ever walked because with the three sisters constantly doting on him, his feet rarely touched the ground.”
Our childhoods were relatively normal. We grew up in a lower income neighborhood. As kids, we had no idea that we were poor. That fact didn’t come to our attention until we were in middle school and noticed we weren’t dressed quite like everyone else. The realization we were poor stunned us all because we thought we were rich. We always ate beans, but we had plenty of them. Mom sewed us new clothes every year for school, and we had plenty of hand-carved guns from Grandpa so we could play like cowboys. We played all over the neighborhood without restraint and came home to eat. We were busy kids with much to do.
Our Dad drove a truck and was gone a lot of the time. Mom stayed home with the kids, as did most mothers back then. Dad was a fun-loving happy camper. He always had a hobby that he insisted on sharing with the kids. We all learned Morse code, shot his guns, shot his bow and arrows, posed for pictures when he was on a Polaroid camera kick, fed the pigeons he decided to raise, and sat through what seemed like endless hours of his instructions on how to use a slide rule.
Dad didn’t finish high school; he was self-taught. He read technical books late into the night. Eventually, he obtained a top-secret government clearance and became a technician for Dyna-Electron at the White Sands Missile Range. His work involved tracking the trajectory on the test firings of the Tomahawk and Patriot missiles. Thirty years later, before his death, he saw the missiles in real action during Desert Storm. He was in awe.
Dad never yelled at us, and rarely disciplined us. He led and taught by example. There were two values he thought important enough to put a voice to, and he did so often. First and foremost, he taught us that nothing is more important than honesty; that keeping your word and being honest in all transactions defines a man’s honor, and honesty is not to be compromised, ever. Secondly, he told us that anybody can do anything, period. He told us not to waste time being a crybaby. “If someone needs help or something needs doing, don’t be a crybaby, don’t waste time, just figure it out and get the job done.” He frequently reminded us, “You can do anything.”
Neither parent encouraged a higher education for the children. Mom was the first person in her family’s history to graduate from high school, and none of Dad’s relatives had earned a diploma. As we began graduating one by one, Mom and Dad felt we had really achieved a pinnacle. It never occurred to them to push any of us any further. Except Ed.
Dad insisted that Ed needed a trade and encouraged him to go to a night welding school during his last year of high school. Dad went to every class with him and came home bragging about how Ed had the steadiest hand in the class and no one could run a bead better. We started calling him, “Steady Eddie.”
Ed left home the day after graduation. He worked several jobs in the welding business over the years and worked on continuing his education. In 1995, he opened his own company, Pueblo Pipe and Steel. He steadily built a good business and quickly earned a reputation for being honest and fair with his customers. Around this same time, Ed started going to church and studying scripture. His faith rapidly grew by leaps and bounds, and to this day his faith plays a major role in his life.
In 2006, Ed’s CPA, Harold Bruckner, told Ed about a cat rescue that he had at home in his garage. Harold had incorporated the rescue, obtained a 501(c)3, and named it KATO Foundation, an acronym of his wife’s name. Mr. Bruckner loved the cats and shared with Ed that he was looking for someone that he could trust to take over the foundation. Bruckner’s health was failing him, and he could no longer financially afford the rescue. He had 28 cats in his garage.
Although Ed had two pet cats of his own, he had never given a single thought to running a cat rescue. This was a time when he was enjoying a successful business and picking up where Dad left off with fun hobbies such as RC planes, motorcycles, computers, Xbox gaming and other fine pastimes. Months after their initial conversation, Bruckner told Ed as much as he hated to do it, he was being forced to take the cats to animal control and have them euthanized.
“If someone needs help or something needs doing, don’t be a crybaby, don’t waste time, just figure it out and get the job done.” Whether it was Dad’s words echoing in his mind or that Dad’s lesson was etched in his heart, Ed decided to act. And that is how it all started. Steady Eddie to the rescue. Kitty City NM was born.
Mr. Bruckner was ecstatic and assured Ed that he could have everything in the checking account to help get the rescue started. He gave Ed the paperwork for the foundation, they loaded up the cats in travel crates and off Ed went to the desert without even a place to put the cats.
There was an old, dilapidated, single-wide trailer on the backside of his property. Ed had planned on having it hauled off, but was now glad he had put that chore off. He would need it to temporarily house the cats. It wasn’t pretty, but it was dry and safe. He took the 28 cats to the trailer and got them set up with food, water and beds. Then, without wasting one minute, he started reading everything he could get his hands on about cats and cat rescues.
Days later, Ed found out there was only $15 in the checking account that Mr. Bruckner had turned over to him. “Don’t be a crybaby, don’t waste time, just figure it out and get the job done.”
Being a welder and being in the steel business was a true blessing. Ed decided he didn’t want the animals caged, and he quickly designed and built two catteries, which allowed the cats their freedom to choose to be either inside or outside in safe enclosures.
The expression “build it and they will come” is an understatement in animal rescue. Word quickly spread of a new cat rescue in town. In a very short time, the two catteries, Ed’s office, Ed’s house, even Ed’s bathrooms were floor to ceiling cats. He quickly learned that saying no is very important. Unfortunately, due to space and financial constraints, one must pick and choose who can come. Saying no is a very difficult and heart-wrenching thing to do because in many cases it is a death sentence for the animal.
Over the next eight years, my brother, Ed, gave up many of his hobbies to concentrate on the cat rescue. He read and studied. He called on other rescues, veterinarians, cat boarders and trainers. He amazed everyone with how quickly he learned the rescue business.
This year Kitty City NM opened a new 3200 square foot cattery, most of which Ed built with his own hands. Kitty City NM receives funding from its thrift store and from public donations. The remainder of the financial backing for the rescue comes from Ed’s business, Pueblo Pipe and Steel.
My little brother’s empathy for the underdog and down-trodden has no boundaries. I’ve seen him stop his truck and scrape up the remains of a kitten off the highway and bring it home for a decent burial. He stays up countless nights to bottle feed orphaned baby kittens, and yet has never missed a day of work. He has cleaned wounds, treated ringworm, ear mites, staph infections and upper respiratory infections. Ed has helped birth babies when the mothers were in distress, and in his strong arms, he has calmed so many weary felines as they slipped away from this world. Few people know all the things Ed does behind the scenes.
Ed is a quiet, gentle, honest and compassionate man. But make no mistake, I have seen him give out some of the toughest lectures I’ve ever heard to people who have brought him cats that had clearly been mistreated or neglected. What started out to be ‘don’t whine, just get the job done,’ has turned out to be a way of life for Ed. He doesn’t consider his extraordinary rescue a sacrifice or a job, he considers it a calling, and he does it with love. As of this writing in 2014, Ed’s extraordinary efforts have resulted in the rescue of over 1800 animals.
I wrote my brother’s story after meeting an amazing man named George Palombo and being inspired by the story he wrote about his father at JoesHelpline.org (http://www.joeshelpline.org/joe-palombo-dedication.html). When I read George’s story, the basics seemed eerily similar to Ed’s life. Both men had fathers who loved them and whom they deeply loved. Both had fathers who were adventurers that liked to stretch the limits. Both had fathers who mentored them and instilled in them strong moral values. Both had fathers who passed on the importance of compassion and hard work, and the significance of giving to others. And Ed and George soaked it all in. They became like their fathers. They became the kind of men who strengthen my faith that this world has not been forsaken. With all the ugliness and heartlessness that we may see on the news, there are still men who are true to themselves, true to their God, and true to the disadvantaged. They are the givers.
by D'Ann Dunigan© 2014
Oh what a glorious day it was when baby Ed arrived home! My two sisters and I now had a living, breathing baby doll to play with all we wanted. And he evened up the team –– three boys and three girls. One of my sisters describes Ed’s earliest years by saying, “It’s a wonder he ever walked because with the three sisters constantly doting on him, his feet rarely touched the ground.”
Our childhoods were relatively normal. We grew up in a lower income neighborhood. As kids, we had no idea that we were poor. That fact didn’t come to our attention until we were in middle school and noticed we weren’t dressed quite like everyone else. The realization we were poor stunned us all because we thought we were rich. We always ate beans, but we had plenty of them. Mom sewed us new clothes every year for school, and we had plenty of hand-carved guns from Grandpa so we could play like cowboys. We played all over the neighborhood without restraint and came home to eat. We were busy kids with much to do.
Our Dad drove a truck and was gone a lot of the time. Mom stayed home with the kids, as did most mothers back then. Dad was a fun-loving happy camper. He always had a hobby that he insisted on sharing with the kids. We all learned Morse code, shot his guns, shot his bow and arrows, posed for pictures when he was on a Polaroid camera kick, fed the pigeons he decided to raise, and sat through what seemed like endless hours of his instructions on how to use a slide rule.
Dad didn’t finish high school; he was self-taught. He read technical books late into the night. Eventually, he obtained a top-secret government clearance and became a technician for Dyna-Electron at the White Sands Missile Range. His work involved tracking the trajectory on the test firings of the Tomahawk and Patriot missiles. Thirty years later, before his death, he saw the missiles in real action during Desert Storm. He was in awe.
Dad never yelled at us, and rarely disciplined us. He led and taught by example. There were two values he thought important enough to put a voice to, and he did so often. First and foremost, he taught us that nothing is more important than honesty; that keeping your word and being honest in all transactions defines a man’s honor, and honesty is not to be compromised, ever. Secondly, he told us that anybody can do anything, period. He told us not to waste time being a crybaby. “If someone needs help or something needs doing, don’t be a crybaby, don’t waste time, just figure it out and get the job done.” He frequently reminded us, “You can do anything.”
Neither parent encouraged a higher education for the children. Mom was the first person in her family’s history to graduate from high school, and none of Dad’s relatives had earned a diploma. As we began graduating one by one, Mom and Dad felt we had really achieved a pinnacle. It never occurred to them to push any of us any further. Except Ed.
Dad insisted that Ed needed a trade and encouraged him to go to a night welding school during his last year of high school. Dad went to every class with him and came home bragging about how Ed had the steadiest hand in the class and no one could run a bead better. We started calling him, “Steady Eddie.”
Ed left home the day after graduation. He worked several jobs in the welding business over the years and worked on continuing his education. In 1995, he opened his own company, Pueblo Pipe and Steel. He steadily built a good business and quickly earned a reputation for being honest and fair with his customers. Around this same time, Ed started going to church and studying scripture. His faith rapidly grew by leaps and bounds, and to this day his faith plays a major role in his life.
In 2006, Ed’s CPA, Harold Bruckner, told Ed about a cat rescue that he had at home in his garage. Harold had incorporated the rescue, obtained a 501(c)3, and named it KATO Foundation, an acronym of his wife’s name. Mr. Bruckner loved the cats and shared with Ed that he was looking for someone that he could trust to take over the foundation. Bruckner’s health was failing him, and he could no longer financially afford the rescue. He had 28 cats in his garage.
Although Ed had two pet cats of his own, he had never given a single thought to running a cat rescue. This was a time when he was enjoying a successful business and picking up where Dad left off with fun hobbies such as RC planes, motorcycles, computers, Xbox gaming and other fine pastimes. Months after their initial conversation, Bruckner told Ed as much as he hated to do it, he was being forced to take the cats to animal control and have them euthanized.
“If someone needs help or something needs doing, don’t be a crybaby, don’t waste time, just figure it out and get the job done.” Whether it was Dad’s words echoing in his mind or that Dad’s lesson was etched in his heart, Ed decided to act. And that is how it all started. Steady Eddie to the rescue. Kitty City NM was born.
Mr. Bruckner was ecstatic and assured Ed that he could have everything in the checking account to help get the rescue started. He gave Ed the paperwork for the foundation, they loaded up the cats in travel crates and off Ed went to the desert without even a place to put the cats.
There was an old, dilapidated, single-wide trailer on the backside of his property. Ed had planned on having it hauled off, but was now glad he had put that chore off. He would need it to temporarily house the cats. It wasn’t pretty, but it was dry and safe. He took the 28 cats to the trailer and got them set up with food, water and beds. Then, without wasting one minute, he started reading everything he could get his hands on about cats and cat rescues.
Days later, Ed found out there was only $15 in the checking account that Mr. Bruckner had turned over to him. “Don’t be a crybaby, don’t waste time, just figure it out and get the job done.”
Being a welder and being in the steel business was a true blessing. Ed decided he didn’t want the animals caged, and he quickly designed and built two catteries, which allowed the cats their freedom to choose to be either inside or outside in safe enclosures.
The expression “build it and they will come” is an understatement in animal rescue. Word quickly spread of a new cat rescue in town. In a very short time, the two catteries, Ed’s office, Ed’s house, even Ed’s bathrooms were floor to ceiling cats. He quickly learned that saying no is very important. Unfortunately, due to space and financial constraints, one must pick and choose who can come. Saying no is a very difficult and heart-wrenching thing to do because in many cases it is a death sentence for the animal.
Over the next eight years, my brother, Ed, gave up many of his hobbies to concentrate on the cat rescue. He read and studied. He called on other rescues, veterinarians, cat boarders and trainers. He amazed everyone with how quickly he learned the rescue business.
This year Kitty City NM opened a new 3200 square foot cattery, most of which Ed built with his own hands. Kitty City NM receives funding from its thrift store and from public donations. The remainder of the financial backing for the rescue comes from Ed’s business, Pueblo Pipe and Steel.
My little brother’s empathy for the underdog and down-trodden has no boundaries. I’ve seen him stop his truck and scrape up the remains of a kitten off the highway and bring it home for a decent burial. He stays up countless nights to bottle feed orphaned baby kittens, and yet has never missed a day of work. He has cleaned wounds, treated ringworm, ear mites, staph infections and upper respiratory infections. Ed has helped birth babies when the mothers were in distress, and in his strong arms, he has calmed so many weary felines as they slipped away from this world. Few people know all the things Ed does behind the scenes.
Ed is a quiet, gentle, honest and compassionate man. But make no mistake, I have seen him give out some of the toughest lectures I’ve ever heard to people who have brought him cats that had clearly been mistreated or neglected. What started out to be ‘don’t whine, just get the job done,’ has turned out to be a way of life for Ed. He doesn’t consider his extraordinary rescue a sacrifice or a job, he considers it a calling, and he does it with love. As of this writing in 2014, Ed’s extraordinary efforts have resulted in the rescue of over 1800 animals.
I wrote my brother’s story after meeting an amazing man named George Palombo and being inspired by the story he wrote about his father at JoesHelpline.org (http://www.joeshelpline.org/joe-palombo-dedication.html). When I read George’s story, the basics seemed eerily similar to Ed’s life. Both men had fathers who loved them and whom they deeply loved. Both had fathers who were adventurers that liked to stretch the limits. Both had fathers who mentored them and instilled in them strong moral values. Both had fathers who passed on the importance of compassion and hard work, and the significance of giving to others. And Ed and George soaked it all in. They became like their fathers. They became the kind of men who strengthen my faith that this world has not been forsaken. With all the ugliness and heartlessness that we may see on the news, there are still men who are true to themselves, true to their God, and true to the disadvantaged. They are the givers.
by D'Ann Dunigan© 2014
