2014 GCMAS Annual Conference
 



The Gait and Clinical Movement Analysis Society’s (GCMAS) annual conference is holding a 5k in memory of Ed Quigley.

Ed Quigley was tragically killed in a car accident on Monday, November 18, 2013. He was a research administrator at Rady Children's Hospital and a long time active member of GCMAS. He sadly left his wife, Tristan and three daughters Riley, 6, Zoe, 4, and Harper, 17 months who live in the San Elijo Hills Community in North County, San Diego.

All proceeds from the run will go directly to the Quigley Family and the college funds of Riley, Zoe, and Harper Quigley. Below is a memoir about Ed written by James Richards.

If you'd like to donate to the fund please visit the Quigley Family fund page at: http://www.gofundme.com/5d8gxg

Start/Finish location:
Clayton Hall Parking Lot
100 Pencader Way
Newark DE 19716

Date of Event:
Friday June 27th

Description of Event:
Organized 5k run

Cost of Event:
$25 per participant

Timeline:
5:00pm – 6:00pm Registration/Check-in
6:00pm – Start
7:30pm – all runners have finished

Course:
The course will begin in the Clayton Hall parking lot. Runners will take David Hollowell Drive to Newark and Pomeroy Rail Trail. They will take the trail left towards Creek Road. At the end of the trail, runners will turn left onto Creek Road. They will follow Creek Road for approximately one mile before turning around. They will return to Clayton Hall along the same course.

 

 

Important Runner Information:
All runners will recieve a t-shirt and will be chip timed. However, because this is a fundraising run, there will be no awards.

 

About Ed:
When I met Ed in 1992, he was working as an engineer at a flooring manufacturer. He was less than enthusiastic about his current career path, and told me that he was interested in returning to school and pursuing a master’s degree in sports biomechanics. I told him that there were very few jobs in sports biomechanics but he didn’t waiver, and I admitted him into the program. It turned out to be one of the best decisions I made, and Ed went on to become my first doctoral graduate.
His time at Delaware was remarkable. I won’t bother expounding on his numerous accomplishments since anyone who knew him is familiar with his intelligence, his humor, and his respect for everyone he met. He succeeded at just about everything he did. I’ll simply say that while at Delaware, he was brilliant, engaged, productive, and happy. Just as meaningful as his academic success were the deep friendships he developed with his fellow grad students that would endure the test of time. They kept each other focused, they collaborated on projects and assignments, and they enjoyed life together.

Ed also had a mischievous side, and one occasion, his efforts came back to haunt him. The group had a long-standing habit of playing practical jokes on each other, and sometimes they were pretty creative. Ed decided to target a colleague who had a habit of being the first person in the lab every morning. He put his engineering background to work and implemented an improvised device to dump an entire bag of flour on him when he opened the door. While the device worked flawlessly (it dumped the entire bag on the victim’s head), Ed had neglected to take two factors into consideration. The first was that he had mounted his device on drywall, and when it was triggered, it not only dumped the flour, it also removed the outer layer of drywall. Ed had also forgotten that his colleague was the first student to enter the lab every day, but not the first person. The custodians entered the lab very early in the morning to empty the trash cans, and on that particular day, a custodian on her first day at work was assigned to maintain the lab area. She was at work for less than an hour when she opened the lab door and took a flour shower. It was a classic backfire, and I don’t believe that the group has ever let him forget it.

His commitment and resourcefulness were also evident when they were needed most. During a late night data collection, one of the subjects accidently broke one of the sprinkler heads for the fire suppression system, and within minutes the entire lab floor was underwater. That included our two force plates, which were completely submerged in the pit area. Ed pulled the plates out of the water, tracked down his colleagues in the center for composite materials, and gained access to their large ovens which he used to “bake” the plates overnight. He reinstalled the plates the next morning, and some 20 years later, they’re still working perfectly.
Over the years, I’ve followed Ed’s career, from managing a lab to managing a research foundation to managing a hospital’s research mission. In Florida, he met Tristan, and I swear that when that happened he was the happiest guy in the world. He lit up whenever he talked about her, and when she accompanied him to the conference in Lexington, he smiled for the entire week. His life was in order.
This year, we decided to host the GCMAS conference in Delaware, and when it came time to find someone to plan the program, Ed’s name was at the top of my list. The job required someone who was enthusiastic, well respected, well connected, organized, and mindful of the organization’s mission and history. There was no doubt that he was the perfect choice to lead the program planning, and I was overjoyed that he accepted the responsibility. He didn’t disappoint. He exceeded all expectations and took on added responsibilities for the good of the society and his partners on the planning team. He was just being Ed.

I considered Ed a colleague long before he graduated, and have been extremely proud to have him as a colleague ever since. He was also my friend. We played golf in Tampa, we talked on the phone and at conferences about jobs and careers, about old friends, and about future plans. He was a devoted husband and father, and he adored his family. I’m heartbroken that he won’t get to grow old with Tristan, that he won’t get to watch his beautiful daughters experience the rites of passage in high school and college, and that none of us had the chance to say goodbye and to tell him what a good man he was and how big an impact he had on our lives. I am left only with memories, and along with all of his friends and family, I will keep him alive in my thoughts and in my prayers, and I will continue to miss him dearly.