My dad was born in October 1943 in Ilion, New York, the second of three sons to my grandparents, Ron and Ellie. Barry (the oldest), Lou, and Phillip (the baby) kept their parents on their toes. Their childhood stories were two parts Norman Rockwell, one part Lord of the Flies. There was the story about the time it snowed 20 feet and they had to tunnel from the house to the barn to get the milking done. A claim that they were paid to catch frogs for a local French restaurant. Family heirlooms that were purported to have been sourced from the town dump. Tales of tapping maple trees with their grandfather. A particularly harrowing narrative about a pitchfork fight. And a cautionary tale about losing one of their dad’s brand new boots in the river. (The only time we ever had any evidence that Grandpa Ron got mad.)
Lou attended Pulaski Academy and Central School, in northern New York, from kindergarten through grade 12. (Rumor has it that he had to repeat the 8th grade, which will become relevant shortly.) In school he was outgoing and active in sports, and extracurricular activities. As a high school football player he would run off the football field at halftime, quickly change into his band uniform, perform with the marching band, and then suit up to take the field again. He discovered a love of performing in high school, winning a prize speaking contest for “Carmen” by Andy Griffith, and starring in both “I Remember Mama” and “Where’s Charley.” He had many lifelong friends among his classmates in the class of 1961.
Being told he was not college material, Lou joined the Air Force immediately after high school. He was trained as a jet aircraft mechanic, and stationed in Mountain Home in 1962. Wherever his plane went, so did Lou. Fortunately, he did not see combat in Vietnam, but he did spend time in Guam, and Alaska - where he experienced the 9.2 magnitude Great Alaskan Earthquake in 1964. He reported home that the runways rolled like waves on the sea, and his bed on the second floor of the barracks ended up in the grass out front.
After Lou’s honorable discharge in 1966 he returned to New York where he worked for the Combined Insurance Company. At the time, he was newly married to Linda Crouch of Boise, but the couple divorced amicably after a few years. It wasn’t long before Lou returned to Idaho, and his brothers and parents followed him west in the years after.
Lou enrolled at Boise Junior College in 1968 and earned his degree in Education in just three years. He graduated with honors, proving that he was, in fact, college material. Lou was a lifelong BSU fan, and loved watching his Broncos play football and basketball.
Lou’s first, and last, teaching job was at East Junior High School, where he taught 7th, 8th, and 9th grade history from 1971 - 2000. Over the years thousands of his students learned that all civilized societies had beer in common, medieval etiquette is a little gross, there are more similarities between the major religions of the world than one might expect, all the lyrics to BIlly Joe’s “We Didn’t Start the Fire,” and much more. He had a special place in his heart for kids who struggled academically, and often joked that he had been teaching 8th grade for so long because of all the trouble he had caused when he was an 8th grader himself.
The only thing Lou loved more than teaching was coaching. During his EJH career he was both the boys and girls basketball coach, the golf coach, the cross country coach, and eventually the Athletic Director. Lou took hundreds of kids to basketball camps and tournaments around the pacific northwest, where he was widely respected as a mentor and coach. Many of his teams saw success on the court. The net from his 1998 9th grade girls championship basketball game still hangs proudly in his workshop.
At East Junior High, Lou fell for the Art Teacher, Karen. Karen's young daughter (that's me!) was the icing on the cake. Lou and Karen married in 1978 and made their home in southeast Boise - literally. Over the years Lou’s skills in building and remodeling transformed the little house he bought in 1970 into a beautiful family home. Lou knew every nail, outlet, baseboard, brick, and shingle. He meticulously cared for the yard, riding around on his lawn mower and waving like a celebrity as former students, friends, and neighbors honked as they drove past.
In 1984, Lou and Karen adopted six year old Alex, from Sao Paulo, Brazil. Lou’s kids were the center of his world, and they both adored their dad. He never missed a game, meet, concert, or play. Coaching Alex in baseball, basketball, and cross country were some of his greatest joys.
Lou was an avid golfer who spent many of his summers on fairways all over the Treasure Valley, and working in the cart barn at Plantation Golf Course. For many years he maintained Plantation’s golf carts like they were a fleet of luxury automobiles. Lou’s golf buddies and Plantation coworkers were very dear to him. If you were lucky enough to be Lou’s friend, he treated you like family. In his later years, Lou enjoyed playing poker, and the guys he played cards with were brought under his wing. He loved being around all kinds of people.
Lou’s second greatest accomplishment was being the World’s Greatest Grandpa. (His first greatest accomplishment was the restoration of his 1956 Chevy.) His grandchildren brought him so much joy. He loved to watch them compete in sports, he encouraged their creative endeavors, and he loved to talk with them about school, friends, and everything important in their lives. He made them laugh. He made them think. He challenged them to be the best versions of themselves in their classrooms, on their teams, and in all their relationships.
Lou’s parents and brothers - Ronald, Eleonor, Barry, and Philip, and enough of his golf buddies to make a formidable foursome, were already waiting for him at the 19th hole in the clouds. Down here on earth, Lou’s wife Karen, his daughter Katie and Son-In-Law Jake, his son Alex, and his grandchildren Tremar, Lauren, Sofia, William, and Darren are missing his mischievous blue eyes, and infectious laugh. We know that the sadness we feel is because we loved someone worth missing. If you knew Lou, especially if you were a student or player of his, we would love for you to share a happy story. If you would like to honor him, our family requests that you consider a donation to the Boise Public Schools Foundation.
