
Ed standing on the Oval in front of Main Hall, July 2002
The Man in the Back Room
In Memory of e-text Producer, Ed Milburn
Long-time e-text producer for Disability Services for Students, Charles Edwin “Ed” Milburn died on May 27, 2009. He had been diagnosed with cancer in January, undergoing both chemo and radiation treatment until early May, when it was learned that cancer had spread throughout his body. He was 83.
e-text Champeen of the World!
Ed began at Disability Services in 1995 after working with George Kerscher & Recording for the Blind & Dyslexic here in Missoula – where he began doing e-text. He was already in his 70s, retired and moved home from New York City where he’d spent at least a quarter of a century.
In 1995, Director Jim Marks decided to move Disability Services away from recording textbooks for students with disabilities to producing e-text. This was a huge leap forward in technology and vision for access to print for students with print disabilities – including blind, low vision and various physical and learning disabilities. It meant moving from a large volunteer reading program, requiring a lot of front office coordination, to what was then a half-time partially volunteer position. And it was a major change in direction.
We had the benefit of being the right school in the right place. George Kerscher of Missoula had begun Computerized Books for the Blind in the late 1980s when he couldn’t get recordings of his computer science textbooks. Later, Recording for the Blind (and now Dyslexic) absorbed George and his small cadre of programmers and one part-time RSVP volunteer named Ed Milburn. Kerscher still works for RFBD, and is Secretary General of the international Daisy Consortium, the worldwide standard setters for accessible text and audio books for the blind and other print disabilities. Thus, Disability Services had the advantage and influence of one of the world-leaders in moving alternate formats out of the analog into the digital era.
Later, when RFBD made other organizational changes, the Missoula office was closed, and that’s when we brought Ed Milburn from Kerscher’s shop to Disability Services. The timing was right for UM, and again, we benefitted – this time in a far more practical way from Kerscher’s pioneering efforts. We got the one person whom George said even back then had probably created more e-text for blind and print disabled users than anyone else in the world.
And so we put Ed to work, at first as a volunteer, and later as a half-time employee doing what he was already the world-leader at – creating accessible electronic text that could be read with a variety of text-to-speech (tts) devices and software. His office in those days was up on the 3rd floor of Corbin Hall, and he worked with a scanner and WordPerfect 5.1 for final editing. He did a handful of titles – or actually parts of titles – each semester. With limited RAM on the computers we used back in the days of DOS, it was only possible to scan one chapter at a time, so the process was slow, and we simply followed the student’s course syllabus, trying to give them what they needed in advance of the syllabus dates. E-text was delivered in those days on 3.5-inch floppy discs or loaded onto one of the first hand-held text-readers, known as the Road Runner, which had a complicated and finicky transfer protocol. And Ed worked entirely alone on all these tasks of e-text production.
By contrast, this Spring Semester, we received 97 e-text requests for 94 titles, and we do the entire textbook now using a trained corps of student workers. Ed’s primary duties the past few years included keeping all the requests straight and on the right track for student workers. Through it all, he remained the man in the back room who made the e-text, loaded the Road Runners and later BookPorts, burned the CDs with the files and e-mailed the students to let them know their book was now accessible, please come and get it.
Treatment
This last spring, however, Ed’s contributions were unavoidably limited. He was diagnosed with throat cancer in January, and began weekly chemotherapy almost immediately. After a couple months of that daily radiation treatments were added.
Ed was a lot of things to our office, but one of the things about him is that he was undoubtedly a child of the Great Depression – a living part of history in the midst of students fresh out of high school (this year, especially) who had been born after Ronald Reagan was no longer President. What was important to him in his job at Disability Services was that he be doing something useful, that he be useful to others. As such, he was fiercely loyal to the students he served, even at his most cantankerous moments, because he believed what he was doing was important to the access to print of the students whose books were his responsibility to produce.
It wasn’t surprising then, when it came time for Ed to schedule daily radiation treatments, he put them all in the afternoon so that he could still come to work during his customary morning hours.
But all the treatments, drugs and, as it turned out, the inexorable progress of cancer in his body took their cumulative toll on Ed. He didn’t make it in every day. He did see the String Orchestra of the Rockies season through its finale, and attended most of the Lifelong Learning Institute course he was enrolled in this spring. But on May 7 he learned that the treatments were unsuccessful and, with only a couple of months at most, unnecessary. He was admitted to St. Pat’s and the next week moved to Riverside Health Care.
Immediately, he began wrapping up the remaining details of his apparently tidy life. All of his vast collection of classical CDs went to the Missoula Public Library. A new printer and other items were donated to Disability Services, furniture to Youth Services, and so on. Everything would be useful, would be used.
Useful
At his hospital room in St. Pats less than three weeks before he died of cancer, Disability Services Director Jim marks pointed out to Ed that it’s still quite possible that he has produced more e-text for people with print disabilities than anyone else in the world. As such, he has done a great service to UM students and for all of us. And all this after retiring.
He more than fulfilled his desire to be useful, playing a pivotal roll in access to alternate formats for students at UM with print disabilities, but also far beyond UM as many of the titles Ed converted to e-text have been contributed to Bookshare.org, a nonprofit sharing service for books of all kinds for those who experience barriers to print. Thus, books in alternate formats that Ed had a hand in are available to people with print disabilities all across the United States.
Friend and Colleague
Useful? Yes, but much more that that. Ed was also our colleague and our friend. He was the guy we shared a laugh with first thing in the morning. The small fellow whose shuffling gait was immediately identifiable to his blind co-workers, who often started a sentence before he’d even gotten to your office door, who showed impatience regularly with the late-teen and twenty-somethings that rotated in and out of his work space every day but who always glowed with the energy and excitement of being around young people. He was cultured and yet never a prude, a daily reader of the online edition of the New York Times and forwarder of interesting and relevant items he found there. Devoted to the String Orchestra of the Rockies and to Holy Spirit Church. Ed was the only person in history who ever (and regularly) referred to one of his co-workers as a “dame.”
And we miss him. Really miss him.
Read more comments and leave yours …
And just what did Ed do before e-text?
Read the Missoulian obituary for more on Ed.
http://www.missoulian.com/articles/2009/06/02/obits/01sun/02_may31.txt


Ed was one of those rare treasures-a man who loved music, loved people, loved to be useful, and spent a lifetime loving the world of the arts. I first met him through the String Orchestra of the Rockies, almost always sitting at the sales table selling tickets, and much later learned about hif contributions to people with visual impairments. And i have a great photo of a group of us who traveled to St. Timothy’s with the Talbots for a summer concert==and a great picnic after the concert. Great conversation, great food, and great friends. Ed, we will miss you.
A big, although sad, smile comes to my face in memory of Ed. I am very lucky to have known him for the three years we worked together at DSS. I was fond of our E-text supervisor and friend, who never failed to say a cheery “good morning”, and always kept us student employees accurate and efficient by offering suggestions and reminding us of procedures. I treasure the conversations and laughs we shared ranging from politics to produce, and will miss the 3 minute breaks to listen to “delightful” samples of classical music. I admire the kind, giving, humble, and self-sufficient life Ed led, he was always an inspiration to lighten my mood, mostivation to strive for excellence, and a reminder to articulate and project my voice when I became too accustomed to the stressed-out, college student mumble. Ed was a mentor, and in many ways for me, a grandfather figure that I never had while growing up. We will miss you Ed, thank you for your words, wisdom, and friendship.
Some of my fondest memories are of Ed shuffling by in the morning – his walk past our front desk area on his way to coffee or the restroom or wherever. A quiet, perky little shuffle. A slight smile on his face. He was quick to meet me in the morning, especially if I overlooked one of the crucial steps in our e-text process…
A good man, direct, and too the point. Perhaps a little easy to rile (just mention GW Bush and his face reddened – Bernie could get him going). He was a great and generous supporter of the arts – I know from first hand experience – as he often gave “gifts” before we would head out on tour. His profound hard work and dedication to those people, causes and communities he believed in will be missed. I count myself lucky to have been a part of his life.
Ed was not only a colleague who shared his love of classical music through a wall between his office and mine by turning the volume up, but also he was the producer who created e-text for all of my textbooks for my graduate classes in the last few years. I feel lucky to be part of his life as a colleague, a friend, and a student who he served.
The Sorrows of Your Changing Face
The barest down of summer’s fruit
Above the wryest gaze of blue
Which that cawing laugh more uttered
Than thin gray lips whose greatest suit,
Bright and sharp with thickest glue,
Held us to that key work fettered
Until the day that they fell mute—
The gaze, the laugh, the charming slue
Of memories at his Master’s word
~ CEM May 27, 2009
Milburn Not Announcing Anything
(Note: This was an e-mail update from 3-16-2007 sent to co-workers after Ed had a hip replacement; part of our way of joking around wit one another …)
Ed Milburn says he’s not announcing for political office, but he failed to rule out a possible bid for Missoula City Council in the fall.
“I’m enjoying thinking about it,” Milburn said from Providence Center’s post-op rehab unit Thursday evening, four days after undergoing a hip replacement. “It is an entertaining thought,” he added, and gave his characteristically hearty laugh which, as always, had more than just a tinge of irony in it.
Milburn, 81, is in an intensive program to prepare him for his eventual return home and the 22 steps to his third-floor apartment. “insurance is driving the thing right now,” Milburn pointed out. “There’ll be a conference call of some sort on Monday to see what I do next.”
He’s up and getting around with the assistance of a walker right now, but plans to be ready to handle personal chores and walking to church and work as soon as he can.
“You’re already walking better than you were last week,” commented visiting co-worker Bernadine Gantert, who also offered to serve as campaign manager for Milburn should he decide to run.
Milburn stopped in his walk from his room to the dining area on the 4th floor, visibly please, and thanked her. Then he continued on to his dinner.
For the near future for Milburn it seems, it’s a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. And he’s doing it well and with vigor.