My brother, the Chief, aka Charles Edmund Quarles Jr. Ned, Ed, and Chief Fire Water has left us and gone to the Happy Hunting Grounds section of the Chapter Eternal.
Chief was born in Baltimore, MD and graduated from Baltimore Polytechnic High School. He later attended the University of Maryland, graduating in 1965 and was commissioned a Second Lieutenant in the USAF. His first assignment was as top secret courier in Europe. As a handsome bachelor at that time he had a number of female friends (so he said). His next assignment was in Altus, OK (in the middle of nowhere). He married the preacher’s daughter. That Union didn’t work out and he later married a woman that played in organ in a church – they had one son. Later that Union also ended in divorce.
He served 20 years. After retirement, he worked with the State of Washington (as I recall, it was in the office of Emergency Services). He remained in Washington for the rest of his life. He was active in mountain climbing and various sports. He had a number of health issues over the years – two new knees, a new shoulder, neck fusion, etc.
I first met Chief at the Sigma Chi house in 1963 and we soon became life-long friends in addition to fraternity brothers. In fact, he was my best man in my marriage to Judy.
He was a memorable brother. At parties, he always had the best-looking date. The catch was that you never saw the same one twice. I always wondered about that. He was famous for giving some of the brothers (and others) nicknames. For example, he gave John Zimmerman the name of Zorch. He also made many brilliant statements such as, “An asshole that tries can be a trying asshole.” He also won the “Pope Pool.” Naturally, the brothers called him the Pope Killer (And painted that on our room door). He felt so guilty that he, late at night, took his winnings.
Over the years I lost track of him but we connected at Emerald Island in in 2007. We had many long walks and conversations during those reunions.
Several years ago, Chief sent out an email to the Brothers announcing that he had fainted and was taken to the hospital via ambulance naked and unconscious. Naturally, that got me to thinking. Several weeks later I called Chief what the hell he was doing before he fainted. He told me that perhaps he was a little too descriptive in his email. Typical Chief, always the drama.
I will miss my brother. Sleep well my dear friend.
For all my living brothers – Tonight, lift your glass and say, “Hail to the Chief, all honor to his name.”
IH
Charles King Markline (aka, Buzzard)
Gamma Chi 1965