Two days ago, I received a short email from my friend Ed Story’s wife, Joey. I had to reread it again and again. My dear friend, Ed, passed away unexpectedly. I was stunned. Ed had just turned 80, just 14 months older than me.He was the epitome of life, full of energy, curiosity, compassion, and thoughtfulness. I thought to myself, my buddy is dead. While I am fortunate to have many friends, Ed was my only buddy.

Joey and Deborah have their birthdays in early Oct. Most years, we would arrange for the four us to be together to celebrate the birthdays. This photo was from the the last time, just over two months ago, in London. 

We met in October 2006 at the Four Seasons tented camp in Chiang Rai, Thailand, in an area called the Golden Triangle, where Thailand, Myanmar, and Laos converge on the Mekong River. An area known for being the leading producer of opium in the past. 

It was my wife, Deborah’s first trip to Thailand (one of many to come), and she had read that the Four Seasons had a camp where learning to ride elephants was possible. Not to ride them on some platform but by yourself, bareback, sitting on the neck of the elephant with nothing to hold on to and just balancing and giving instructions to the elephant in the Thai language. We found ourselves at this camp. We were “glamping,” but this term did not come into fashion until a few years later. 

There were fifteen tents, but I don’t think there were that many people there. I can only remember meeting Ed and his fantastic wife, Joey. We met them at a cocktail party given by the General Manager, Jason Friedman, who was very close friends of the Storys and became our friend as well.  

Deborah and I noticed Ed’s clothes. He was wearing a crisp white deconstructed shirt that looked not only stylish but, I knew, expensive. We were standing beside them, cocktails in hand, when Deborah looked at Ed’s shirt and said, “That looks like something you would buy at the Library in London.” The Library is a small boutique in South Kensington, London, where I shopped regularly. Ed overheard Deb’s remarks and said that is where he bought the shirt. It turns out that both Ed and I periodically bought clothes as we were both frequent travelers to London.  

Ed was the CEO of a small Oil development company whose primary business was in Vietnam. Since the company’s headquarters was in London and it was listed on the London Stock Exchange,  Ed and Joey had an apartment there. But they often stayed in Thailand and Vietnam. We sometimes joined them. Ed was able to speak Thai as he had spent much time in Asia starting in the 60s. He had the most amazing stories of his experiences in South Asia. He was also involved in Mongolia. Ed and Joey owned a penthouse in the capital city, Ulaanbaatar. He became the Honorary Consular of Mongolia in the USA. A Mongolian flag flew in front of his office in Comfort, Texas. I don’t know if it is still there.

I so wish that Ed had written a book about his life experiences. I am sure I only know a fraction of the stories. Ed was a great storyteller.   You can read many of his stories here.

Something clicked between the four of us, and we became fast friends. Life is random. Had we not decided to go to the Tented Camp on those days, we would never have met Ed and Joey. But once we met them, we knew they would be in our lives forever. The following year, they visited with us at our home in Sonoma. Then, we visited them at their home in Hill Country, Texas. Over the years, we traveled with them to Bhutan, Thailand, Vietnam, Italy, Greece, Morocco, many places in the USA, Estonia, Finland, Norway, and other places I have probably forgotten.

In some sense, Ed and I grew old together. We were still relatively young when we first met (61 and 62), Ed had recently turned 80 and I will be 79 next month but Ed and I had the kind of friendship you typically develop when you are growing up. That is why I call him my buddy. I don’t think I will ever have another. We were so different. He was a child of the South, an “oil man” from Texas, although liberal in his social and political views. I was Jewish kid from San Francisco, who had a successful career in technology. We rarely discussed business. 

Ed and Joey had a large ranch in Hill Country, Texas. I remember walking with him on the property. He carried a rifle. Evidently, there were mountain lions roaming about.

The Four Seasons Elephant Camp raised money for Elephant rescue. The elephants were not abused. It was just the opposite. The local villagers who took care of them were also treated very well. Ed went on to create unique ways to fund the sustainability of elephants in Thailand. He organized Elephant Polo Tournaments to get sponsorships for the elephants and created a store to sell actual elephant-related products called “The Elephant Story.”

Ed actively supported the Cleveland Clinic after that institute saved Joey’s life. He was the head of the “International Leadership Board.” Ed invited me to attend many of their yearly meetings. Deborah and Joey would also participate. I started advising the Cleveland Clinic, a relationship that continues.  

Like so many, I will miss Ed, especially his laugh. But part of Ed still lives in my mind and my heart. Not only in memories of the past but now and in the future, for Ed Story became part of who I am, and a part of him will continue to live within me. And in some way, the four of us, Ed, Joey, Deborah, and I will continue our friendship. . 

Working on this blog post brought me joy which over came the sadness of losing Ed as I relived so many memories

Ed, buddies forever!