I’m sorry to inform you that Ed Rouleau passed away Friday, August 20, 2004, at 9 a.m. 

Services will be Friday, August 27, 2004, at 5 PM, in the Masonic Temple in Dallas, Oregon.140 SW Clay, in the City of Dallas, Oregon.

A pot luck remembrance PARTY will be held on Saturday at noon on August 28, 2004in Carole and Rod Gabel's hangar, 831 Stinson St, Independence, Oregon.Brats and buns provided. Please bring a side dish, salad or dessert.

The above photograph was taken by Ed Rulo’s wingman, Gordon Clappison, some time after they flew their Cessna 150’s from Independence, Oregon to Oshkosh, Wisconsin for the 1990 Experimental Aircraft Association international convention.  Ed is playing “Taps”, as he has so many times for so many different occasions, on a 1930’s Boy Scout bugle given to him by his wingman and the wingman’s wife.  Who will play “Taps” for Ed Rouleau?

I’ve taken the liberty of reprinting an article I ran on Ed in the October 2003 issue of The Taledragger.

Mike Pongracz

EAA Chapter 292 Secretary/Treasurer

A TRIBUTE TO A GENTLE MAN

Editor’s Note:  It is my privilege to print the genuine outpourings of affection for this wonderful man who has been so central to the workings of our chapter.  This doesn’t happen every day.  I don’t think he will be shocked to see the esteem in which he is held by his peers.  --Mike

I first met him at an EAA meeting sometime in the 1970s at somebody’s home.  That was before a chapter hangar, when we had no permanent home.  He walked with a rolling gait and a smile on his face.  He was the keeper of the numbers, and he would report how much money was in each fund and how much we had spent, down to the last penny.  Outside in one of the darkened vehicles was his bride, patiently waiting for the meeting to end.

Over time interest grew to build a true home of our own.  He counseled caution, but one could see he was excited about a possible permanent home for the chapter.  When construction began, he was always there, offering his expertise.  He was always early to arrive and late to leave.  He had a hangar on the Independence airport, which was more like a social center than a hangar.  It came complete with sofas, blankets, and a place to spend the night, always with coffee and doughnuts, baked beans, and more.

He is Ed Rouleau, my friend.

Time passed, the chapter grew, and more space started to look good. Again, Ed was cautious, but he promised to help.  As the present hangar took shape, again Ed was early to arrive and late to leave.  With his gimpy gait, he wasn’t quick, but he got the job done.  The north and south hangar doors are a tribute to his engineering and welding skills.

Young Eagles?  No problem to Ed.  In his blue jump suit festooned with aviation pins and patches he flew until no children waited for a ride.  (118 Young Eagle Flights on the books at last count.)

He is Ed Rouleau, my friend.

We’ve grown older together, and now both of us have gimpy gaits.  After all, it’s been over twenty years.  Marge’s beans still taste wonderful.  Ed has continued to unselfishly donate his time, assets, and skills.

I am forever grateful for knowing him.  He is my friend.  

Bob Schwarzler