See more at http://meningitis-angels.org/Edward.htm



		     Giving thanks for our Eddys
At Large
Bill Janz

	 

Sometimes Thanksgiving is more reflection than food. There is a grace
to Thanksgiving, a softness, a quietness, that interrupts us during
every noisy Thanksgiving: on occasion, it is overwhelming because we
think about our own.

All of us celebrate friends and families, toasting those who are with
us and remembering those who aren't. The uniqueness of people we love
is also a similarity that we all have.

Many of us have had an Eddy in our families, yet we also realize that,
for his family, there was only one Eddy and he wasn't here long. This
Thanksgiving, his family will give thanks for the 20 years, 5 months
and 19 days that Eddy spent with them.

Eddy often wore shorts in high school, even in winter. There are
billions of people, yet each is distinctive, he believed. Being
himself was important because it was not being anyone else.

"Eddy made the Wall of Fame at the Prime Quarter restaurant in Madison
by eating a 40-ounce steak in record time," his mother, Gail Bailey,
49, said. "We weren't surprised because that was Eddy. We were a
little surprised that he went back for seconds."

We don't bring up Eddy during Thanksgiving week because of his
epicurean accomplishments; we just want to give thanks for the Eddys
of all ages, all families, by singling out one. During a speech at the
graduation ceremony at Jefferson High School in 2000, Eddy, the
valedictorian, said something that is appropriate to remember at this
time of year:

"Too often we do not appreciate what we have until it is gone . . . To
everyone still in school, my advice to you is to treasure every moment
that you still have in school. This message holds true to all of the
adults in the audience, too. Look around and identify every good thing
in your life."

That's a good reflection for us on this Thursday, or on any day of the
week.

Eddy had a perfect grade point average in high school and a 3.8
average out of a possible 4 at the University of Wisconsin-Madison; he
was certainly intelligent.

"Yes, he was smart," his mother said, "but his lessons all came from
the heart, not his mind."

For the past year, there has been an empty chair in the Bailey home in
Jefferson. Eddy died unexpectedly, suddenly, devastatingly, and his
parents have worked hard to make sure that fewer students die from
meningitis.

Eddy's father, Phil, 53, wrote an essay about his son that said losing
him was like "waking up in the morning and no birds are singing
. . . Going for a walk, but never being able to come home."

"Life is so short and losing Eddy, well, I love like there is no
tomorrow, because life is . . . so fragile, and so many people forget
that," Gail Bailey said.

On Thanksgiving, let's remember the strengths and the fragility of our
lives. The sunrises, as well as the sunsets. And love like there is no
tomorrow.

Eddy, a junior at UW-Madison, was only sick overnight and died of a
form of meningitis. His parents, and parents from around the state,
worked to get the Wisconsin Legislature to pass a Meningococcal
Awareness Bill, so students can be made aware of the dangers and be
vaccinated. Gov. Jim Doyle signed the bill last month, another reason
that the Baileys are thankful, as well as sad, this Thanksgiving.

In a letter to the police officer who informed her of Eddy's death,
Gail Bailey thanked the officer for sensitivity and said, "I know Eddy
will watch over you and your loved ones, too, because I asked him to."

Each year, we have a lot to be thankful for. Whether we support the
war in Iraq or not, we have to thank the boys and girls serving
there. Eddy's brother, Brett, is in the Army, stationed at Scoffield
Barracks near Honolulu; we have to remember all the Bretts in the
world, as well as the Eddys who've already made their ways through our
lives.

We should be thankful, too, for little things, such as little children
and little grandchildren, who aren't very tall, don't weigh much, but
can squeeze your heart with a hug. Let's be thankful for flutters and
whispers in the trees; fog and croaking frogs; let's be thankful for
jumping dogs, bouncing butterflies, clouds painted by flame, splatters
of raindrops, wind-whipped flowers, kittens with string, splashes of
boat oars, dipping flights of finches, and the promise of a morning of
a day that we hope will never get dark.

Let's be especially thankful for every color of people, every
American. Let's be thankful for each other. And for all of our Eddys.


From the Nov. 23, 2003 editions of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

		      BAILEY Saturday at 11 a.m.

Edward J. "Eddy" Bailey of Jefferson, WI, died Tuesday, November 12,
2002, in Meriter Hospital at Madison, WI, 20 years old. He was born
May 24, 1982, to Phillip and Gail (Gauthier) Bailey in Clarinda,
Iowa. Eddy was valedictorian of Jefferson High School Class of 2000
and was a student at University of Wisconsin-Madison studying finance
and economics. He received numerous academic honors, had recently been
accepted into an honors society for finance students and was an
applicant for a Rhodes Scholarship. Eddy was an avid reader and
especially enjoyed Stephen King novels. He loved to golf and was loved
deeply by his family and friends. He touched everyone he ever met in a
special way. He is survived by his parents of Jefferson; one brother,
Brett Bailey of Fort Benning, GA; paternal grandfather, Gilbert Bailey
of Scottsbluff, NE; many aunts, uncles and cousins. He is preceded in
death by his paternal grandmother and maternal grandparents. Services
will be Saturday, November 16, 2002, at 11 a.m.  in Faith Community
Church at Fort Atkinson, WI. Burial in Greenwood Cemetery at
Jefferson. Friends may call at the Olsen Funeral Home in Jefferson 6
to 9 p.m. Friday, November 15 and at the Church on Saturday 10 a.m. to
time of service. OLSEN FUNERAL HOME Jefferson, WI.

http://www.hastingstribune.com/archive/nov02/nov14/today/obits.pdf

 	
	

	Disease killed son so fast that his parents were numb

9:52 PM 12/15/02
Karen Rivedal Higher education reporter

Eddy Bailey probably thought he was getting the flu when he felt ill
on a Monday night last month.

With four mid-terms coming up that week, the UW-Madison junior from
Jefferson told his roommates that he couldn't afford to get
sick. Bailey, 20, who was known for wearing shorts in almost all kinds
of weather, then took a shower and came out later wearing a winter
hat, gloves and heavy clothes, because he was so cold, he said.

Bailey had a bowl of chili and went to bed early, taking some cold
medicine to help him sleep. At 7 the next morning, he knocked on a
roommate's bedroom door and said he was having trouble breathing.

Paramedics rushed Bailey to Meriter Hospital, two blocks from his
apartment on Spring Street. At 8:02 a.m., he died.

"That's how fast it went," said his mother, Gail, during a recent
interview at the family's home. "It was in God's plan. We don't know
for sure why."

"But 20 years old," she added, speaking slowly and softly. "It's just
too young. There's no way to explain it."

Eddy Bailey died on Nov. 12 from a rare bacterial infection of the
blood known as meningococcemia. It is related to meningitis, with
symptoms including the sudden onset of fever, stiff neck, headache,
nausea and weakness.

Both forms of meningococcal disease are spread by direct contact with
the respiratory and oral secretions of an infected person. It is not
highly contagious but can progress very rapidly if not treated with
antibiotics. It kills about 10 percent of the time.

Bailey's parents say they don't want their son to become "a meningitis
statistic." They hope his story will raise awareness about the
infection and encourage more people to talk to their doctor about a
vaccine that is available.

"Nobody else should ever have to go through this," Gail Bailey
said. "You need to love your kids like there's no tomorrow. You hear
that clich, but it happened in my family."

Doctors think college students have a slightly higher risk of getting
meningococcal disease, because they tend to live in close quarters. Of
the five deaths out of 48 cases in Wisconsin this year, three were
University of Wisconsin System students - in Madison, Eau Claire and
River Falls - while nationwide up to 15 students die per year.

At UW-Madison, there have been 11 cases with three deaths since
1993. Losing a young person to the infection is particularly
heart-rending, state epidemiologist Susann Ahrabi-Fard said.

"It's devastating for families," she said. "Parents feel so helpless,
because it happens so quick, and there's really nothing they can do."

Bailey's parents found out about his death from police, who called
them later that morning at work.

To say merely that the news was shocking is to understate the raw
nature of sudden grief. His parents described a profound numbness in
the hours after their son's death, an inability to think and a sense
of powerlessness that hasn't left them.

Their son was gone, before they even knew he was sick.

"There haven't been words invented yet to really adequately describe
how I feel," said Phil Bailey, his father. "It's like a nightmare, but
you just never wake up from it."

Health experts advise that all incoming college freshmen get a safe
and readily available vaccine to prevent meningococcal disease, which
experiences peak months in April and May, and again in October and
November. The vaccine, which costs $68 for students at UW-Madison's
University Health Services, is 85 percent effective.

As such, it isn't perfect. The students who died this year at UW-River
Falls and UW-Eau Claire had both been vaccinated, but they were
infected by strains that the vaccine does not prevent. In Eddy
Bailey's case, the vaccine might have worked, Ahrabi-Fard said, but
the young man never was vaccinated.

Bailey's parents said they struggle with that, among the many what-ifs
surrounding his death. They suspect he may have been pushing himself
too hard, having just added an economics major to the finance degree
he was pursuing.

And his father worries his son's schedule was especially hectic just
before he got sick, between his studies and a trip he took that
weekend to La Crosse to watch an old high school friend play football.

"We both feel a lot of guilt," Phil Bailey said. "It really is hard
not to blame yourself."

But hindsight and second-guessing are of little use after such an
unexpected death. To friends and family, Eddy seemed indestructible -
a 6-foot-3 "gentle giant," his mother called him, with a football
player's build and a kind and open nature.

"He was such a great guy and so friendly," said roommate Erik
Miller. "It was very easy to get a rapport going with him."

"With him, what you saw was what you got," Miller added. "No matter
who you saw him with, he always acted like he genuinely was."

Bailey also loved books and numbers, showing equal comfort with a
calculus text or a Stephen King novel. His brother, Brett, older by 21
months, remembers how Eddy often read straight through the night, in
the small bedroom that his parents for now have left intact.

Growing up, Eddy never learned to ride a bike, and he liked to watch
football on TV more than play it. But he was good at golf, and his set
of clubs, minus one, sits in a corner of his bedroom. His father
buried his driver with him.

In high school, Eddy founded a chess club, kept stats for the football
team and was valedictorian of his senior class. It wasn't until Eddy
died that his parents learned, from his friends, how he had tutored
some of them in his free time.

"The school thing was easy for him," his father recalled. "But he had
such a good personality, too. He got along with all kinds of people."

# At UW-Madison, Eddy was studying to be a research analyst or
  investment broker, and graduate school was in his plans. After
  adding the second major, he was taking four core courses - macro-and
  micro-economics, econometrics and third semester calculus - in the
  same semester this fall.

"He was the sort of student who makes advisers glad when they come
in," said his adviser, Jennifer Fenne. "He was a real learner, someone
excited about his studies and the sort of person you would expect to
do well in the future."

A month after their son's death, Eddy's parents are trying to salvage
a positive message, from somewhere deep inside the pain. And they are
finding one.

"I've never felt closer to him spiritually," his father said. "This
reaffirms my belief that life is a gift. Don't take it for
granted. Live it to the fullest."  His son came to much the same
conclusion in the valedictorian speech he gave on graduation day at
Jefferson High School in spring 2000.  "Look around and identify every
good thing that is in your life," Eddy Bailey said. "Chances are
you'll miss it when it's gone."

Wisconsin State Jounal (Madison, WI)