Stanley "Stack" Kedziorski

I first met Stack and Nora nearly 40 years ago when we were neighbors in Arlington Heights. First impression of Stack: gruff and just a little bit scary...he was so big and that voice! It didn't take long, though, to realize what a gentle giant he was. In the following years, Stack did A LOT of carpentry work for me on three houses. Growing up with a father who renovated and built houses, I knew my fair share about the trade and craftsmanship and recognized Stack's high skillset. More importantly, I also came to appreciate Stack's honesty and integrity. He would lose a job bid before inflating the cost or cutting corners. Then, too, there was Stack's generous and kind nature. In my semi-stupor days after my husband died, Stack and Nora took my four rather young kids camping...for a week! more than once! On his vacation time, he took extra kids along. He also helped me more an entire household out of state, again, more than once. For some reason, on one move he got to drive the truck with our dog Gus riding shotgun...a fond memory Stack recalled for many years after (still sorry about that, Stack). He let my daughter rent a room (cheaply, I had to make him take something) in his house during her student teaching semester. So many other examples of his generosity and kindness, too many to mention. He did all these things knowing I could never repay him. And finally, that wicked sense of humor. One example: While camping, he told my 6-year-old daughter Jackie that if she stared at the campfire too long, she would get diarrhea. She believed him and never saw a campfire again without remembering the warning and thinking of Stack. He could always make you laugh. I could go on and on. An honest, true, generous and funny man who we had the great good fortune to know and call a friend. RIP Stack and thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Lori and Kids

How do you explain someone like Stack? If you were lucky enough to know him, he left a lasting impression on your life. At first glance, he could seem intimidating, but once you got to know him, you realized he was someone you wanted in your life forever. His family and his work were his world. He was one of the most honest people I have ever known, and he lived that way every day. We lived across the street from him, and through friendships with his children, my siblings and I spent so much time at their home that we eventually became part of the family. It was something truly special. After I lost my dad, Stack became a second father to me. He taught me so much and helped me become the person I am today. During college, I even lived with his family for a time. He was always teaching, guiding, and helping me and others without ever expecting anything in return. He simply wanted people to become the very best versions of themselves. Stack and his family will always be my second family, and I can never fully repay everything they have done for me. I will forever be grateful for their love, kindness, and generosity. If you have someone like Stack in your life, consider yourself incredibly fortunate. Thank you, Stack. I love you. You will be deeply missed, and I will never forget all that you have done for me and my family.

How do you explain someone like Stack? If you were lucky enough to know him, he left a lasting impression on your life. At first glance, he could seem intimidating, but once you got to know him he was someone in your life forever. His family and his work were his world. He was one of the most honest people I have ever known, and he lived that every day. We lived across the street from him, and through friendships with his children, my siblings and I spent so much time at their home that we eventually became part of the family. It was so cool to just be welcomed in and truly special. After I lost my dad, Stack became a second father to me. He taught me so much and helped make me the person I am today. During college, I even lived with his family for a time. He was always teaching, guiding, and helping me and others without ever expecting anything in return. He simply wanted people to become the very best they could be. Stack and his family will always be my second family, and I can never repay everything they have done for me. I will forever be grateful for their love, kindness, and generosity. If you have someone like Stack in your life, consider yourself incredibly lucky. Thank you, Stack. I love you. You will be deeply missed, and I will never forget all that you have done for me and my family.

I met Stack the first day as sophomores at Weber High School in 1968. He had a crew-cut and resembled a real oddball I had earlier known. Stack was taken aback by how much hair I had on my arms and thought me akin to apes. This was the start of our 58-year friendship. But we found a common bond in our life outlook of being real persons. We shared our thoughts, hard work, loyalty, respect, and humor (especially guttural laughing). We were most inseparable for the next decade plus, until getting married and raising our own families. One junior class we had, Moral Guidance, remains vivid. For years, Stack and I guffawed over our raunchy recollections. Others believe we just grossly exaggerate what transpired. For Latin we helped a guy who hadn’t performed his passage translation for that class. He paid us a quarter for each question that we asked the instructor to stall for a day. I made $2.25, but Stack only $1.50. Stack complained that it was unfair for me to make more money, as his questions chewed up more class time. Stack converted me into an avid fisherman. I still recall the first time I went fishing with him, riding several busses to get to Schiller Pond where we caught small sunfish. But it was a thrill. We later developed a ritual of going to Indianford (WI) dam on the Rock River on March 1 of every year. Others would some times join us. It became a macho exercise. Who would be the first to crack in the freezing weather and suggest we leave for breakfast? We later took fishing vacations in the North Woods of WI, KY, TM, MO, and AR. Very fulfilling experiences. Things could get funky, though. At Land Between the Lakes, a crazy twerp, high on something, opened up the camper top of his pick-up to us and then jabbered, “I’ll pluck out your mother***ing eyeballs if you put your hand in there”. Some nearby others told us that he was harmless, but who knows. Maybe the goof had a hidden gun? We warily left. After all, it wasn’t those other guys’ eyeballs that would get plucked out. A big regret I have is not scheduling a fishing trip with Stack to Canada or Alaska. It was a bucket-list item that Stack never notched. We worked several jobs together that Stack helped me obtain. All of them have numerous memories of very eclectic people. In junior year, Stack and I worked with his dad (“Little Stack”) on Saturdays at Sears’ cafeteria. In senior year, we toiled at a vending machine company after school, filling dollar bill changers with coins. It paid well at $2.65 an hour. While In grad school, Stack had me hired at the real estate firm he worked at to paint apartments. A most memorable time of our friendship was May of 1974, when we stayed at Isle Royale. The first boat out of Houghton, MI to the island that Spring was mostly empty. Lake Superior was rough with six- foot seas. Stack was fine but I got seasick. Temperatures at night were 15 degrees. For one dinner, our main entrée was Wisconsin Wieners. They were god-awful - no amount of mustard could overcome the taste. As an experiment to see if even an animal would eat them, we placed two wieners hanging over a picnic table and used a bowed stick to keep them in place. The trap was set! But there were no takers that night or the next three days! We hiked the main ridge trail that had a gorgeous view from a high point to the Canadian coast. We fished Lake Superior and watched the moose who wandered the campground. Alas, we had no bites. Luckily Lake Superior was like glass on our return to Haughton with nary a ripple in the water. It was a special time. Solitude in the North Woods on an island on Lake Superior with a best buddy stuck in both our memories. Stack and I frequently relived the moments. As a normal course of life, our worlds, interests, and careers started to diverge. We found our respective brides at roughly the same time. I still remember Stack’s first date with Nora, roller skating at the Hub. He wasn’t sure if Nora had an interest in a courtship. I recall saying, “If a hottie is happy to go roller skating instead of demanding an expensive dinner, you’d better go for it.” And so he did. We were married about a year apart, each standing up to the other’s wedding. We would still get together with our children who later came in our families. Unfortunately, I had to move out of state in 1995. We maintained some contact after that, but more so reconnected when we moved to Iowa. Once again, Stack (and Nora) showed their measure in helping us to clean up after a hoarder relative of mine who lived in Bensenville. I miss my friend.

This is Adam planting the maple among the pines on his and Jackie's homestead in Minnesota. There is another side to Adam's memories. Stack was so appreciative for his connection with Adam, a true bond that remains. When Adam and Jackie were moving to thir new home in MN they stopped in. Stack sent them both off with treasures. Adam left with some of Stack's tools, Jackie was given a tool that belonged to her dad Steve. Her mom had given it to Stack after Steve passed away, more than 20 years ago; Stack made sure it returned to his family when the time was right. I wish I had taken a picture that day....

A Maple Among the Pines I lost a family friend, but saying “family friend” almost feels too small for what Stack became to me. I first met Stack back in 2014. At the time, Jaclyn was still just my girlfriend, and she was living with her mom, Lori, in Cambridge MN. Stack had been an old neighbor/family friend of Lori in IL, and he was also a carpenter who had come up to Minnesota to do some work on her house. I remember pulling up to Jaclyn’s house and seeing him outside, unloading what looked like half a hardware store from his vehicle. It was packed full of tools, supplies, buckets, and all the things a carpenter somehow knows he might need. I offered to help bring tools inside, and he said yes. One of the first things I remember carrying was an air compressor. We made a good number of trips back and forth to what Stack kept calling his truck. I would quickly correct him and say, “You mean your van.” That became a little inside joke over the next few days. He would call it a truck, and I would remind him it was, in fact, a van. Or, as time went on, his “work truck”...cough, work van... It is funny how clearly I remember that week in 2014. It was not some huge milestone in life. Nothing major happened. I hung out with Jaclyn, Lori worked from home, and Stack was there hammering, drilling, cutting, and making noise in the background... Every now and then, I would offer to help him. Most of the time he would say something like, “No, it’s really a one man job.” But then he would say, “If you want to watch and learn, have a seat on the bucket.” So I did. I sat there and watched. We talked about tile, the tile saw, the bathtub, and whatever else he was working on. He did not just do the job. He explained things. He showed me things. He had a way of making work feel like something you should take pride in, not just something you rush through to get done. At some point, fishing came up... Fishing was one of my favorite things in the world. Turns out, it was one of his favorite things too. That is really where our relationship started. My dad had a 14 foot deep-V Lund fishing boat with a little 5 horse motor, and eventually we made a plan to take Stack out fishing before he heads home to IL. Before we hit the lake, Stack showed me his rod and reel. Stack was a big guy, and then he pulled out this little yellow ultralight fishing pole...I laughed at first but...he told me that around his house in Illinois, the lakes were more like ponds, and that little rod and reel fit perfectly in his work truck. Again...work van. When the time came, we headed to a small lake called Spectacle Lake. We met up with my dad, got the introductions out of the way, and within about fifteen minutes, we were fishing. We were sitting in about ten feet of water when Stack watched my dad catch a largemouth bass. Then my dad caught another one. Then I caught one. That is when Stack looked over and said, “Are you guys chummin’ the water over there?” We all laughed. I handed him the same lure we were using, he tied it on, and within five minutes he was catching fish right along with us... Nothing huge. Little northern pike and largemouth bass, most of them probably fifteen inches and under. But it was constant. We probably caught fifty fish between the three of us in the first hour. Then, in true Minnesota fashion, the sky turned on us. The rain started slow at first, just a steady little pace. Then it kept coming harder. I asked Stack if he wanted to head in. He said, “No, I’m okay with a little rain.” My dad and I smiled because we could tell he was loving every cast, fish on or not. Then the thunder came. I asked again if he wanted to call it. He said, “Im good if you guys are.” My dad and I smiled again, and we kept fishing. We were soaked. We were catching fish quicker now. We were trying to keep count of who was winning. And then you could feel little electrical shocks on the fishing poles. That is when my dad said, “Okay, we have to call it.” Stack agreed, and we headed back to shore... Stack and I rode back to the house completely soaked. But after that day on the water, even though Stack had to return home, I could tell he had an absolute blast. And trust me, I did too. Fast forward a few years, and Jaclyn and I moved to Illinois with her mom. During the move, I drove a 26 foot UHaul with Stack, and that turned into a fun seven hour drive. Years later, Jaclyn and I got married, and during my time in Illinois, I went with Stack on quite a few of his jobs. With him, I learned the basics of installing windows, doors, hanging drywall, and plenty of other things. But the biggest thing I learned from Stack was this: If you say, “It’s good enough,” then it could be better. That stuck with me. Stack taught me to take pride in my work. He taught me that if you think something can be better, then make it better. Don’t just settle because it is easier. Don’t walk away from something you know you could have done better. It is not every day that you meet a stranger who becomes a father figure. At that time in my life, I was 400 miles away from my own father. So in a way, I adopted Stack. If I had a question about something, I could call him. If I needed advice, I knew he would answer. It was comforting knowing that no matter what happened, there was someone close by who would help if he could. That is the kind of man he was... A couple years ago, Jaclyn and I bought our home in Minnesota. It is an old 1910 farmhouse on 10 acres, and we have a lot of projects to tackle. Windows, refinishing, repairs, and all the little things that come with trying to bring an old house back to life... But the knowledge and skills I learned from Stack give me confidence. Every time I look at a project and think, “I can figure it out,” part of that comes from him... A little over a year ago, Stack came to Minnesota for what would end up being our last time together on the lake. And of course, he showed up ready to fish. He had his hat. He had his gear. And then he pulled out that little yellow fishing pole and grinned. That day was another rainy day. It had been raining all morning, right up until we got to the lake. But something kind of special happened. Once we were out there, you could see storms all around us. Lightning, thunder, dark clouds... All of it moving around the lake. But for about three hours, we never got wet. The storms circled around us, but left us alone. It was not until we got back to shore that the rain started again. That final time on the lake, we caught fewer fish than we had years before, but they were bigger. And with Stack, if he said a fish was eighteen and a half inches, it was eighteen and a half inches. He had measured so many things in his lifetime that if you checked, he would be right. I am glad we took so many pictures that day. They captured exactly how happy he was to be on the lake. Hat on, little yellow fishing pole in hand, doing something he loved. On my birthday, May 14th, I received a voicemail from Stack. Somehow, I missed the call. Then, as life would have it, I called him on his birthday, and he missed my call. I have found myself listening to that voicemail just to hear his voice. That voice that could easily stand out in a room full of people. That voice that, once you knew it, you would never mistake for anyone else’s. This year, I planted lots of trees on our land. Among the pines I planted in the back of our ten acres, I planted one tall maple tree yesterday. And come fall, that maple tree is really going to stand out against all those pines. Just like Stack. A little different. Strong. Hard to miss. Full of color. The kind of thing you notice right away. I will always be grateful for the time I had with him. For the lessons. For the fishing trips. For the jokes. For the work days. For the drives. For the phone calls. For the confidence he gave me to take on projects I might have been afraid to try. And most of all, I am grateful that a man I met, through the Goldbach family, unloading tools from his “truck,” became someone I was lucky enough to call family. Rest easy, Stack. I will think of you every time I pick up a tool, and every fall when that maple tree lights up against the pines.