Edward J. Stringer Sr.‚ born on April 26‚ 1963‚ was a 12-year veteran of the Chicago Fire Department. He served with Engine 63 and was a member of Local 2. Edward was a spontaneous man who brought life and zest to all those around him. A very considerate‚ neighborly man‚ he would lend a helping hand in any needed situation. His crude sense of humor and sarcastic ways will be missed by his family‚ friends‚ and ‘brothers.’ He truly knew how to brighten one’s day with a hysterical gesture or joke or simply by his captivating and contagious smile.
Edward‚ a very intelligent individual‚ graduated from Curie High School in Chicago. In 1981‚ he became a proud father to his son‚ Edward J. Stringer Jr. At a very young age‚ he endeavored to provide with everything he had‚ working two jobs and taking college courses at Daley Community College in Chicago. His encyclopedic knowledge of the city’s features and geography came into play when he worked many years as a delivery man throughout the city. Later‚ in 1988‚ it helped him when he himself ‘delivered’ his daughter‚ Jennifer M. Stringer‚ in a Bridgeport‚ Illinois apartment. Always an enthusiastic‚ hardworking family man‚ his children will hold dear the memory of their father as an unsurpassed role model and mentor.
In 1998‚ Edward’s passion showed through when he joined the Chicago Fire Department. Anyone who knew him could tell his pride to be a part of the ‘brotherhood.’ He actively participated in many fire department benefits and also worked raising money to send child fire victims to burn camp.
Throughout the years‚ Edward enjoyed cooking‚ a good cocktail‚ rooting for the Chicago White Sox‚ listening to rock and blues‚ walks with his dog‚ Roscoe‚ and spending time and countless laughs with his friends‚ family‚ and coworkers. He was an avid motorcycle rider who loved to travel‚ spend time outdoors at his campsite-fondly known as ‘the Happy Place’-and recently cherished any free time with his confidante‚ Joan Husemann-Middendorf.
The loss of such a brave firefighter‚ a beloved son‚ an incredible father‚ a cherished friend‚ a fine man‚ will never be adequately measured or put into words. He always told me‚ ‘Don’t call me a hero. I’m just a regular guy‚ doing my job.’ But in the hearts of his survivors‚ a ‘hero’ he will always be.