Since 2001, Jon Edwards has been a constant in my life — a mentor, a friend, and a voice of reason who always knew what to say, even when I didn’t know what I needed to hear. He had this signature phrase — “Well, if I were you…” — that would come right before he delivered some of the most grounded, practical, and heartfelt advice I’ve ever received. He didn’t sugarcoat things, but he always led with care. That was Jon.
To him, I was never just [my first name]. I was “Walsh,” then “Walsh-Stock.” It became this small, funny shorthand that felt like an inside joke and a badge of honor. That was the kind of relationship we had — rooted in mutual respect, laced with humor, and built to last.
Jon wasn’t just a mentor to me — he was a man on a mission. One of our shared goals, something we took seriously (and not-so-seriously all at once), was making sure JJ knew he was #1. If you know, you know. It was our thing. It brought us joy, kept us laughing, and gave us a shared purpose that added even more meaning to our friendship.
To try and sum Jon up in a few paragraphs feels almost impossible. He was one of a kind — sharp, funny, loyal, and generous in all the ways that truly matter. He had this rare ability to lead without ego, to guide without judgment, and to care deeply without ever needing recognition.
Jon Edwards was, and always will be, the GOAT. His legacy lives in all of us who had the privilege of knowing him, learning from him, and just sharing space with someone so real.
I’ll miss the conversations, the laughs, the quiet advice, and the unwavering support. But most of all, I’ll miss Jon — the mentor who shaped my path, the friend who always had my back, and the one person who could call me “Walsh-Stock” and make it sound like a title.
There will never be another Jon Edwards. And honestly, I wouldn’t want there to be. He was the only one who could do it the way he did.
Rest easy, Jon. You were the best of us.