E.J. Hudak

E.J. Hudak was a poet, a scholar, a college administrator, and a nationally renowned advocate for the handicapped — and he was my brother-in-law and best friend.

E.J. (Edward John), Eddie to his friends, had the misfortune to contract polio only 6 months before Dr. Jonas Salk would pioneer a vaccine that would save millions of children worldwide from the same fate that Eddie would suffer.

Eddie lived his life inside a full body brace in a wheelchair and slept in an iron lung that he affectionately called his ‘Yellow Submarine.’

I met Eddie in 1970 at Saint Joseph’s University in Philadelphia, where as English - Philosophy majors, we suffered through the academic rigors that the Jesuits were so fond of.  I lived in a ramshackled apartment across the street from campus where Eddie and I would spend countless hours discussing the many topics we would both eventually turn into poetry.

Eddie defied every obstacle life threw in his path.  Against what doctors and advisors told him, he eventually married, bought a home, secured a senior administrative position at a New Jersey University, and wrote a newspaper column that advocated for handicapped rights that was syndicated in over 65 different newspapers across America.

Eddie gave me many gifts over our years together, but the greatest gift he gave me was his sister, who in 1974 became my wife and lifelong soul mate.

Eddie succumbed to the lingering effects of his polio in 1993, but before he died, he saw his first book of poetry published —‘The Diary Of The Court Jester.’  In its pages, he gives us all a poignant look inside a man who never weighed more than 55 pounds but was a giant when it came to overcoming pain and life’s most challenging circumstances with grace, insight, and humor.

As I post some of his poems, I hope you all read them with a thankfulness in your heart for the blessings that you have.  Eddie never complained and was possibly the most upbeat person I have ever known. To meet him once was to have your life changed forever.

These poems are his story ...

Note:  I will only post this introduction once.

One

Ask me if I know pain

I’ll say

I know him well

We have been acquainted

Since that day

When first he came in great red waves

To wash across a child’s body

Drowning him in salted water

& then maturing with the spirit

& the mind

The boy advanced with age

& ingravescent torment

His disposition ever pliant

To stabbing fire

Throbbing drums

& hours black with mental anguish

No part escapes those talons rooted deep

No oasis can be found to bid relief

Screams or muted cries of anger

Will not exorcise this demon

For he lives as I live

My mind his

My blood his

My soul his

Death of the host is death of the guest

Death of the quest is death of the host

We are one entangled in each other

Like the storm & the wind

Like the larva & the fly

To part is to die

E.J. Hudak