Ed Lesnick was a bigger-than-life character. He was a shop teacher and sometimes our varsity football coach at Folsom High School during the 50’s. Ed was an alumnus of Illinois State and also played as a lineman for the Chicago Bears in the National Football League. Ed was built like a tank. His face looked like it was chipped from a block of granite. He served in the U.S. Navy, and just like the Navy, the sign on the bathroom door of his shop class read, “Head”.

When I was a freshman I signed up for a wood shop class that Lesnick taught. I was also going out for football. My dad was excited about me taking this class as he was a good carpenter and my grandfather was also a carpenter. However, during this class it became very clear that my wood-working skills were sadly lacking. The carpentry genes definitely weren’t passed on to me from two generations of skilled carpenters. My dad would ask me throughout the semester when I was going to bring home one of my completed wood projects. I told him that I was still working on my project. But, every time Lesnick came to inspect the progress on my book shelves, he or I would mention the magic word, “football” and that stopped my project for the balance of the class. Ed could talk about football for hours and we in class let him talk as much as he desired. Listening to his football tales mesmerized the class. He was our local football celebrity. This routine was repeated almost daily for the balance of the semester. Halfway through the semester my dad no longer asked me about my wood shop class. I’m sorry to say that I never finished those wooden shelves. To this day I still can’t drive a nail.

Some of my memories of Coach Lesnick during those fun days of my favorite sport include a football tryout for the varsity team, Coach Lesnick had the quarterbacks throwing the balls to receivers in two lines at the two end positions. When it was Jack Benny Pickles turn to catch the ball, he ran straight down the field. But he got tangled up with his own feet and did a forward somersault. As he was somersaulting, the football landed and stuck between his legs causing him to “catch” the ball. The coach was so excited he was jumping up and down and laughing. For this one action, Jack Benny Pickles made the varsity team although his position would be warming the bench for most of the season.

In my sophomore year I made the varsity team playing an end on offense and defense. During our first game I was sitting of the bench and nervously waiting for my first time to play for the varsity. Our Bulldogs were on defense and the enemy team had just made yardage running around our end. Lesnick turned his head and was scanning our bench and his eyes stopped on me. He shouted, “Lerch!,” and waved his hand at me. I leaped off the bench with my heart beating about 300 beats per minute and my eyes were the size of silver dollars as I ran up to him. He put his big right hand on my shoulder pad and looked me in the eye and asked, “Can you go in there and stop them from running around our end?” I said, “I’ll try coach.” He dropped his hand from my shoulder and pulled his head back with disappointment written on his face and said, “Try? I want someone who can do it! Now go back to the bench.” That 12-foot walk back to the bench was the longest walk in my teenage life. With my head hanging down, I didn’t dare look at my fellow bench warmers. I felt myself shrinking down to about three-feet high. His words were burning inside my brain. I sat on the bench and stared at the ground for what seemed like an hour, but it was only about two plays later when I heard Lesnick roar, “Lerch!” This time when he asked me the same question, I shouted, “Yes, Coach”. He slapped me on the back while grinning and said, “Get in there!” I have never forgotten that lesson.

Once during varsity practice, the offense had just tried a new running play against the first-string defense and we stopped the play on my end behind the line of scrimmage. Coach Lesnick wasn’t happy. He told the running back that carried the ball to step out and watch him because he was going show him how the play should be run. The coach pointed to us on defense and he said that we were to tackle him as we would any normal player. We defenders looked at each other and grinned. He handed his clip board to someone to hold. He wasn’t wearing a helmet or any pads. We knew he was running the same play so we were more than ready to stop him from running around my end. The ball was snapped directly to the coach and he ran to his right and when he turned the corner we gang-tackled him down hard. After we got off the pile, he jumped up holding the ball in his right hand. He put his left hand up to his ear and brought it back down and then he stared at his bloody hand. Blood was coming out of his ear and running down the side of his face and neck. He stood there with his legs wide apart and crouched over and looked at us and roared, “Who tackled me?” His head swiveled from left to right and back again seeking the tackler. Uh oh! We cowards all took a step backwards and pointed our fingers at Dale Voage, a tackle, and said together, “It was Voage, Coach.” Sorry Dale, but you’re on your own. Lesnick looked at Dale and said, “Voage, did you tackle me?” Poor Voage, he was a condemned man and he started backing away, his face pale, and he answered, “Yes, Coach.” Lesnick, with blood still running out of his ear, approached Voage looking like a Roman gladiator with that wide stance and slow walk. I was glad he didn’t have a sword. Lesnick got a big grin on that granite face of his and slapped Voage on the back and said, “Good tackle Voage!” Phew, we thought Voage was a dead man.

Here are some thoughts from more of Ed’s former students and football players:

Larry Harris ’57: During a football game, the finger on my left hand was dislocated. When my hand was level my dislocated finger pointed straight up. I ran off the playing field to the side lines and I showed Coach Lesnick my finger. He stared at the finger and said, "Let me look at that" and he grabbed my finger and pulled on it hard and it popped back into place. He looked me in the eye and with a grin on his face said, "Now get back in there Harris"!

Dr. Larry Eschelman ’55: One of my clearest memories of Coach Lesnick took place during an early scrimmage before the season started in 1954. I had missed a block on an end sweep, and Coach Lesnick instructed me to be the defensive player and he would demonstrate how to properly make the block. He put on a helmet, but no other pads and he told me to defend myself against his block. Despite my best efforts he knocked me flat on my ass, and with his characteristic short laugh, helped me up. He then looked me straight in the eyes and asked, "Do you understand how to do it, or do you want me to show you again." I made it very clear that I understood, and that I had no desire to be involved in another demonstration. I believe it was one of the hardest hits that I ever experienced in football. It must have been a real experience to have played against him for an entire game. We were fortunate to have him as a coach

Doug Fox ’55: Here are some of my memories of Coach Lesnick. He said he played for the Chicago Bears. He loved pinching guys until they got black and blue. He loved seeing a “good hit” on the field, especially if you knocked the person down. He liked “single wing” formation, because of the strong blocking. He actually was a good coach and teacher.

Dave Gilbert ’57: I don't have anything really funny. He told me the afternoon of a game that I was going to be a "pulling guard"--with no more info. I guess I was, but who knows? (I was a tackle and sometimes a regular guard or a bench warmer at other times.) I think we had a big team--two guys on the bench, if I remember. We won two games during my 4-years. Lincoln, both times!

I remember that he had something to do with PE--I don't know what. I do remember that he was the one that I asked "can I go to the physics lab--instead of PE." He always said, "Yes." Oh well, probably PE would have done me more good!

Maurice Holt ‘56: It was a cold winter day in wood shop and all of us students wore our coats to keep warm. I was talking to Ed when Howard Scriven ’56 interrupted our conversation, Ed told Howard to stop talking while he spoke to me but Howard keep on talking. Ed told Howard again to shut up. But Howard failed to do as Ed demanded. Ed then finally lost his patience and grabbed Howard by his jacket and zipped it all the way up and then picked Howard up and hung him up on a coat hook on the shop wall. Howard was kicking his feet and was shouting, “You can’t do this!” Ed walked away from the screaming Howard.

Bob Thrasher ‘54: The highlight of Ed Lesnick’s Folsom High School football coaching career occurred, I believe, one crisp fall Saturday afternoon during 1951. San Juan High School, although located in close proximity to Folsom High School, never entertained a serious athletic rivalry between the schools primarily due to the wide difference in the number of students. As the only high school in the San Juan District in 1951, there was at least six times the number of enrolled students at San Juan at the time. Folsom always competed favorably in basketball and baseball but had not been invited nor sought to compete with a well established football powerhouse. At the time, San Juan was enjoying an undefeated season, ranked among the top twenty five high school teams in the state and under normal circumstances would never consider a football game with the small school located across Rainbow Bridge. During their regularly scheduled season, one of San Juan’s games had been cancelled by an opponent at the last moment causing their coach to scramble in filling the void. Somehow he thought playing nearby Folsom might provide an opportunity for some of his superstar’s to enjoy a respite and allow the second team to gain some game experience, or at least that was the story Coach Lesnick related to his players right after he accepted the last minute invitation. Folsom was not a weak football team in 1951 by any means and although the schedule did not include an opponent with the reputation and stature of San Juan, we were enjoying a winning season. The week prior to the game was spent listening to motivational speeches and enduring tough practices in preparation for the big game. Game day arrived and the San Juan coach did indeed begin the game with some of his reserve players, apparently believing he should hold his premier stalwarts for a more important outing. A few minutes into the game he quickly reversed his decision realizing an upset of major proportions could be in the making. Following an unbelievably hard fought contest Folsom prevailed in the final minutes of the game in a stunning upset with a score of 26-21. Coach Lesnick was overjoyed to say the least, as were his players, and he insisted that the bus carrying him and the team drive triumphantly through downtown Folsom shouting the winning result. Most of the citizens wandering on Sutter Street probably didn’t know a football game had been played that day, but they soon became part of the celebration. For students, players and especially our coach, it was a huge day. The football used for the game was placed in the Folsom High School display case with player names, date of the game and final score proudly displayed where it remained for many years until memories faded and the event had lost its meaning. However, the memory of our Coach Ed Lesnick and the players who were a part of that day continues.

Don Nelson ‘55: In my senior year I bought a Harley. I wanted to take the name off the gas tanks and repaint it white. This was to be done in Mr. Lesnick`s shop. "Turk", (Wilbur “Turkey” Darrington ’55), said he would braise the spots before painting. Mr. Lesnick said when the tanks were off I would have to wash them out with cleaner and then "test" them. I said, “How?” Mr. Lesnick said to take them way outside on the grass, by the street, make a fuse, and light it. If it doesn`t blow up Turk can do the work in the shop. Well I did as told and I`m still here. I think Lesnick was a little disappointed as he was peeking around the shop building when I lit the fuse. One more story. When I was a freshman I was on the junior varsity football team. In practice I broke my arm (pretty bad, both bones, my wrist looked like an S.) Elmer Dennis was the Jr varsity coach and Mr. Lesnick was varsity coach. Well when Lesnick ran over he was very excited and was yelling at Mr. Dennis to get a splint. That got Mr. Dennis so excited he began tearing up the shirt he was wearing. By that time Mr. Lesnick came up with two "sticks" that were more crooked than my arm. When Dr Day saw my arm at Folsom Prison, he shook his head, smiled and said it was better than nothing.

Ted Schlegel ’58: Like most others I, remember Ed both as a shop teacher and football coach. He taught me more about the basic fundaments and the pure enjoyment of the game than any other coach I had. One particular personal experience I had came at a game against Galt at the Lodi Grape Bowl. After receiving a 15-yard penalty for kicking the legs out from under a blocking back. Coach Ed came out onto the field, got some flesh on my side and gave it a twist as he often like to do, while yelling at me so the official could hear. But as soon as we were out of hearing range of the official Lesnick gave me a pat on the back and said, “Good job! That guy won’t try that again.”

Editor’s note:

I want to give thanks to all of you old Bulldog football players for your stories about this most interesting man who gave us his unique view of life. This story could have used several more pages. Ed was a one-of-a-kind man. I never meet another teacher, or for that matter another man, with the likes of Ed Lesnick. Many of us use to say, “Put me in, Coach!”

Good bye and thanks Ed.