A Tribute to Our Founder and Friend, Father Ed Morgan

Father Ed Morgan, co-founder, friend, and advocate of Locally Haiti, passed away on Wednesday December 14th. Father Ed’s memorial service was held on January 7th at St. John’s Cathedral in Denver, with Bishop Kym Lucas presiding. The text of the eulogy, given by Bishop Rob O’Neill, and the sermon, preached by Father Dayle Casey, are linked below. Both Bishop Rob and Father Dayle were dear and long-time friends of Father Ed’s. While the texts alone will not do justice to the way their words echoed inside the cathedral that day, I encourage you to take a moment to read and reflect on them. They are deeply moving; important testaments to a man who made a lasting impact through love, compassion, and action.

A reflection from Wynn Walent:

On the night of Father Ed’s memorial, I was able to spend time with the Morgan family at a small gathering in Highlands Ranch. I asked Andy Morgan, Father Ed’s son, to share a Father Ed story with me that I wouldn’t have heard before. He shared two.

The first, in typical Morgan fashion, was full of humor, self-deprecation, and a playful sort of mischief. It involved golf, one drink too many, and an Uber ride to a dinner engagement that could’ve been pulled straight from a classic comedy film. I’ll keep that one between Andy and me.

The second, was this:

During Father Ed and Andy’s last conversation, a conversation wherein Father Ed sensed that words and time were increasingly precious, Father Ed referenced Locally Haiti’s work to Andy with great urgency and feeling. He urged Andy to stay involved; to stay connected; to help see that the work in Haiti continued to succeed and thrive.

This was touching, for a reason I’ll return to in a moment.

I first met Father Ed at Evening for Haiti, our annual spring event, in 2017. I’d taken on the position of director two weeks prior and I knew of Father Ed’s role in the founding of Locally Haiti (then the Colorado Haiti Project.) During a slow moment I introduced myself and asked Father Ed if he’d be open to having lunch sometime so that I could learn more about him, his work, and his relationship with Haiti. He laughed out a deadpan reply, “I won’t have much to tell you probably, but I’m always happy for a meal.” We had lunch the following week, and over time I learned that Father Ed’s humility and humor overlaid a very real wisdom founded in his deeply held belief in the simple idea that we as people have a responsibility to one another. 

In 2019, I traveled with Father Ed, Andy, and Andy’s daughter, Molly, to Petit Trou. Father Ed hadn’t visited since 2014, and we were going to attend a celebration of the 30th anniversary of St. Paul’s School and parish. I had the pleasure of driving a car full of Morgans, of hearing stories shared, witnessing light teasing between generations, and watching as the younger Morgans cherished and revered Father Ed, in awe of the undeniable impact he’d created despite his continual efforts to downplay his role.

On our last day we took a tour of the classrooms at St. Paul’s, with Father Ed and crew saying hello and asking and answering questions of the students. Regardless of what grade level we visited, one question kept coming up. 

“Father Ed, will you please come visit more often?”

Each time the question was posed Father Ed smiled, and blushed, and replied with some version of, “Well, I’ll try but I can’t promise…I’m pretty old!”

I reflected later on the fact that this question was asked so consistently. Father Ed was clearly kind, clearly fun, clearly a man that people wanted to be around, but even so, I found the consistency of that question, “Will you please come visit more often?” interesting.

I think the reason was this:

Father Ed’s presence in Haiti, whether in 1989 or 2019, was a powerful statement about family. Here was a person, along with Father Dayle and Father Octave, who had seen this community, these people, for the miracle they are. He saw their importance, their humanity, their potential, and their talents. He saw them as family. He could be as humble as he wanted to be (and he truly was) but through his actions it was clear to everyone in Petit Trou that Locally Haiti’s work exists because of the vision of Father Ed, along with Father Dayle and Father Octave, and specifically because that vision included all of us, in one human family. The people of Petit Trou counted to Father Ed, in a deep, undeniable, and fundamental way. We all can say this. Father Ed showed it.

Which brings me back to Father Ed’s comment to Andy.

Of course, I don’t know exactly what ran through Fr. Ed’s mind as he encouraged Andy’s continued engagement with Haiti in those final hours. Maybe he recalled his first days in Petit Trou, laughing or celebrating with Dayle or Octave. Maybe he thought of the disturbing headlines describing the current situation in Haiti. Maybe it was an image of the breathtaking landscape, the way it makes you feel to look up at the mountains above Petit Trou as you feel the breeze roll in. Maybe it was an image of Andy or Molly, laughing or dancing at the St. Paul’s Day celebration.

I imagine that as our time on earth draws to a close, for most of us, our mind goes to family. In Father Ed’s case, this meant the Morgans of course, and it meant Haiti too. Despite his sincere humility and despite his tendency to downplay his role, Father Ed knew that he was and will always be a cherished patriarch in a family of thousands. It was only natural then that his mind would have gone there. Counting Father Ed as part of their family enriched the lives of our friends in Petit Trou immensely, and I know that Father Ed would say that having them as part of his enriched him even more.

Father Ed won’t be back to Petit Trou, not in the physical sense anyway, but I’d be willing to wager that Andy and Molly will. And I know for certain that all of us here at Locally Haiti will continue to devote ourselves to honoring Father Ed’s legacy, and to treasuring the family in Haiti that he loved so much.