Even after he fell ill, slowed by the bone cancer that would cost him his life, Ed Heath visited hospitals and nursing homes to care for veterans.
He’d drop in, chat for a few minutes and make sure they received all the care they deserved. Only then would he take care of himself.
“He knew so many of the guys,” longtime friend Gary Burns said. “He wanted to be with them.”
It was his life’s work.
In 2002, Heath was elected national commander of the million-member Disabled American Veterans. He served for a year in the post and continued working for soldiers, most recently for troops returning from Iraq.
Heath’s struggle with cancer ended this week. He died Wednesday in Poland surrounded by his family. He was 69.
“The soldiers were on his mind until the end,” Heath’s wife, Sylvia, said Thursday. “That was Ed’s life, taking care of veterans.”
On Monday, James Sursely, the current national commander, and other officials plan to attend a memorial service in Mechanic Falls, where Heath practiced law.
Meanwhile, he is being remembered in Washington.
“With Ed Heath’s passing, America has lost a true hero, and I have lost a dear friend who I have known for most of my life,” Sen. Olympia Snowe said Thursday in a prepared statement.
“Words cannot describe the immeasurable contributions Ed made to our nation, our state and his fellow veterans,” Snowe said.
Prior to his work for Disabled American Veterans, Heath spent years as an attorney with the Veterans Administration Board of Veterans Appeals in Washington.
In a 2002 interview, Heath said he drew insight from his own disability.
A native of Weld, Heath enlisted in the Army in 1954. He served in France, Germany and Korea. He was working as a recruiter in rural Kentucky in 1967 when his car collided head-on with another car.
He broke his jaw and his left hip, and he suffered internal wounds. He was left with nerve damage in his leg and a limp.
He had requested duty in Vietnam. Instead, he was medically retired after 14 years in the service. So, he went to college.
A veterans rehabilitation program paid for him to earn an undergraduate degree at the University of Southern Maine. For two years, he taught junior high kids in Minot.
He then went back to school, earning a degree at Boston’s New England School of Law. He practiced private law several years before accepting the position with the Veterans Administration.
He specialized in radiation exposure, prisoner-of-war and post-traumatic stress disorder issues.
The VA could be arbitrary in its dismissal of claims, sometimes callously so, Heath said in 2002. As a lawyer, he fought for veterans as long as he could.
Before he retired in 1996, his group convinced the government to create the U.S. Court of Veterans Appeals.
Laid-back style
He was worn out, though. He moved to Poland and opened a small law practice beside a convenience store in Mechanic Falls. He wrote wills and helped people transfer land.
He was drawn into the leadership of the Disabled American Veterans as a favor.
“I agreed to fill in for a year,” he said of his first role as fourth junior vice commander, which he accepted in the late 1990s. “Then, I was hooked.”
Despite his national profile, Heath never developed an ego, said Gary Burns, treasurer of the DAV in Maine.
“He was good people,” said Burns, who knew Heath since the 1970s. As a national commander, he’d periodically meet with members of Congress. And he once threw out the first pitch at a Boston Red Sox game.
However, when the commander’s role ended, he was happy to help out at home again, Burns said.
“That’s the kind of guy he was,” Burns said. And he had a laid-back style that people took to naturally.
“He personified Maine folks,” said Burns.
His courage continued until his final days. And he spoke openly of his cancer.
“He was leaving and he knew it,” Burns said.
Snowe, who knew Heath when the two were neighbors in an Auburn apartment building, said her friend’s legacy of helping veterans would endure.
“He distinguished himself as the consummate soldier – matching compassion with courage – and I will forever be grateful for the lessons I learned from him,” Snowe said.
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