RIP Edward “Ed” Dawson.

I never met Ed Dawson in person. That’s what makes me sit here and think about this even more.

Just the other day, Ed inboxed me. He wanted to tell me that he loved what I was doing with DrewSchifino.com—bringing back memories, talking about the history of Western Pennsylvania sports and giving recognition to players, coaches, teams and moments that people still remember decades later.

He also made sure to remind me about the 1991 Aliquippa football team. That team meant something to him.

Aliquippa won the 1991 PIAA championship, becoming the first Quips team to win a state football championship and the first football team from Beaver County to win a PIAA state title.

At the time, it was just another conversation in my inbox. Now it means something completely different.

Because Ed is gone.

Sometimes a Message Hits You Later

On Friday night, Ed was coaching Cornell High School during its game at Rochester when he suffered a medical emergency. He was taken to a local hospital and later passed away.

Think about that.

One day, somebody is messaging you about high school football history. A few days later, you’re reading that they’re gone.

Life can change that fast.

I never shook Ed’s hand. I never sat down and talked football with him. I didn’t know him personally. But he took a few minutes out of his life to tell me that something I created meant something to him.

Now those words mean even more to me.

Why Those Messages Mean So Much to Me

People probably don’t realize how much I appreciate messages like Ed’s.

Social media is different. You can post something on Facebook and get likes, shares, comments and thousands of views. Sometimes people don’t even read the entire post. They see a picture, recognize a name, hit like and keep scrolling.

A website is different to me.

When somebody leaves social media, clicks DrewSchifino.com and actually takes the time to read one of my articles, that means something.

Because I know what goes into it.

I think about these stories. I remember players and teams that haven’t been talked about in years. I research. I write. I reach out to people. I go back through memories from when I was a kid sitting in gyms or football stadiums around Western Pennsylvania. I’m trying to preserve a piece of our sports culture that can easily disappear if nobody takes the time to document it.

So when somebody reaches out and says, “Drew, I love what you’re doing,” I don’t take that lightly.

Especially now.

I Know the Perception of Me Hasn’t Always Been Good

There’s another reason those messages hit me differently.

I know there has been a perception of me over the years that hasn’t always been positive. And I’m mature enough now to say that some of that perception came from things I did myself.

I take accountability for that.

I’ve made mistakes. I’ve handled situations differently than I would handle them today. I’ve given people reasons at different points in my life to form certain opinions about me.

I’m not running from that.

But human beings grow. And one of the best feelings in the world is when people recognize your growth without you having to announce it.

I’m 45 years old now. I’m not trying to be the person I was at 25 or 35.

I’m trying to build something. I’m trying to give people their flowers. I’m trying to preserve history. I’m trying to use my experiences, memories and platform for something positive.

That’s why hearing people praise the work means so much to me.

Not because I need everybody to like me. But because I know how much thought, time and genuine love I put into this website.

Ed Reminded Me Why I’m Doing This

Ed didn’t have to message me. He didn’t owe me a compliment.

He simply saw something he appreciated and decided to tell me.

There’s a lesson in that.

If somebody is doing something you appreciate, tell them. If somebody made an impact on your life, tell them. If an old coach meant something to you, call him. If an old teammate gave you memories you’ll never forget, send him a message. If your parents are still here, tell them you love them. If somebody is doing good work, give them their flowers while they can still smell them.

We spend so much time thinking we’ll have another opportunity.

Another game. Another conversation. Another phone call. Another message. Another tomorrow.

Sometimes we don’t.

Life Is Precious

I started DrewSchifino.com because I love these stories. But moments like this remind me that the website is becoming about something bigger than sports.

It’s about people. It’s about memories. It’s about making sure people know they mattered.

Ed Dawson reached out to me because he appreciated that. Now I’m writing about him.

I wish the circumstances were different. I wish there would’ve been another message.

Maybe another conversation about that 1991 Aliquippa team. Maybe eventually we would’ve met somewhere around a football field and talked about Western Pennsylvania football for an hour.

We never got that opportunity.

But I’ll remember the message he sent me. And I’ll remember what it taught me.

Sometimes the smallest gesture—a message, a compliment, a few words of encouragement—can mean more to somebody than you ever realize.

So don’t wait.

Give people their flowers. Tell people when you appreciate them. And never take a conversation, a moment or a second for granted.

Rest easy, Coach Ed Dawson.

And thank you for taking the time to tell me that what I was building meant something to you. Now your words mean something to me.