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23 Emmy Award-winning shows that he mixed. He was a truly kind-hearted man and a great friend. He will be sorely missed. In 1981, Ed helped to form Greene, Crowe & Com- pany, the premier television mobile facilities provider of that time. Charles Fernandez shares these kind words: Our business has lost a true icon, a legend and a kind, quiet gentleman. Ed Greene was one of the finest men I've ever known. I will always remember him pulling his van up to the mobile unit to drop off gear or walking up the backstairs to the audio booth with a piece of equipment under his arm. His work ethic was like no other, something he has passed down to his kids. I was one of the very few fortunate ones to have the pleasure of working at Greene, Crowe & Company for fifteen years. Ed always had a smile. We often enjoyed talking about our families. His life was filled with some of the most incredible accomplishments. I loved to hear his stories and he had many. He was the master of his trade and will truly be missed. God bless you Ed. Off to a better place. When the trumpets sound off in heaven, no doubt Ed will be at the mixer. Love you, my friend. Thoughts from longtime friend Murray Siegel: Ed Greene was curious. He was brave. His embrace of new technology, new techniques and new ideas was an inspiration. He faced chal- lenges with assurance and rarely failed to come out the other side with a smile. But even more impressive was his willingness to share what he learned. Above and beyond equip- ment and tools, he didn't hesitate to take a chance on someone new. I was an elementary school teach- er. With his kindness and help, I became a "sound guy." Ed is defined by his curiosity and his generosity. The way I think about production, the way I work, the man I am, all are informed by having worked with and watched Ed Greene. This is his legacy. He was a pioneer, a mentor, a colleague, a friend. Our lives are not diminished because he's gone. Our lives are richer because he is in them. Some thirty-five years ago, I was working on a show mixed by another audio icon, Ken Becker. It was among the first live-music shows mixed in stereo at KTLA. To make sure things went well, the production company brought in Ed as an advisor. That was the first time I worked with him. Ken later remarked that it was like working with a lifelong friend he had just met. I wish I could go back to that audio booth and listen to the two of them tell stories. Fred Tator relates this one that Ed told while they worked together at Complete Post. Ed was in a small village in Eastern Europe shooting something or other. The people of the village were very kind. They fed the crew dinner and breakfast each day. In the morning, they had fresh eggs and bread. In the evening, they had some kind of meat that had a strange taste. Ed said he couldn't figure out what it might be. It wasn't quite beef or veal. It wasn't quite pork. So he called it "vork." The last evening there, the host asked if there was anything special the crew would like for dinner. They said some chicken would be nice. The interpreter told the hosts and the hosts gave them a weird look and then got to work preparing the dinner. The chicken was delicious. The next morning at breakfast, there was only bread. When asked why there were no eggs, the host gave them a look like you can't imag- ine. Apparently, those breakfast eggs came from the chickens they had eaten for dinner. Fast-forward to our last visit with Ed in rehab. The TV was on and Ed said in a whisper that he was bored. I said I bet you'd like to get out and get some- thing to eat. Again he whispered, "Mexican." I said, "How about some vork." With that, Ed gave us a nice big smile. We said our goodbyes. And that's my last image of Ed.