By Henry Berman, Exponent Philanthropy

We lost a piece of our organization this week. Alan Egly, an Exponent Philanthropy (then ASF) founder and former board chair, passed away Sunday evening, at home surrounded by family.

Alan approached his prognosis with humility, understanding, and humor. His plan was to make sure his children stocked the bar fully, and he considered having a party while still able to attend.

Rob DiLeonardi, another former chair and early leader, shared his memories of Alan and recollection of an early association meeting in Chicago’s frigid winter temperatures.

At some point, we took a break, and Alan and I were alone in an elevator heading down to another floor. We were both very tired, and, as the doors closed we were silent, both staring at the floor numbers as they blinked by. Then, whether from exhaustion or excitement or fear or some combination, he suddenly burst out laughing. He turned to me and said, “Are we all crazy?” I said, “Probably,” then joined him in laughing. We were crazy, but we were also right, and the proof is the fact that Exponent Philanthropy is not only still existing, but thriving.

Rob also spoke about arriving at the old St. Mary’s seminary in Mundelein, Illinois, his car trunk loaded down with the generic soft drinks and wine and snacks that would comprise the “refreshments” for the meet-and-greet later that night, on day one of our first-ever association conference.

As I turned into the parking lot, the first thing I saw was Alan, waiting for me as promised, bouncing on his feet a little and radiating a sense of excitement and anticipation that I could feel before I even opened my car door. He greeted me warmly, and happily helped me carry everything in to what was to be our primary meeting space. He’d found and secured this meeting spot and was eager to show it to me. As I walked the dim, well-worn hallways and took in the scuffed walls and uber-spartan furnishings, my heart sank. We’d rented the place for a song, something like $300, including the mess hall dinner, but its initial impression on me was not a good one.

Alan, however, was exuberant. He was in his element, brimming with anticipation and assuring me that the space was perfect. And, of course, he was exactly right. The meeting room was bright and comfortable, outside the rooms were some beautiful trees and walking paths, and, perhaps most important, the cot-like beds, 40-watt bulbs, and cold water showers encouraged some genial jokes and a unique “we’re-all-in-this-together” camaraderie that never could’ve happened at a Hyatt or Westin.

Former board chair and early member Marty Fluharty shared her favorite memory of Alan:

Alan was well aware of the costs to start a new national organization, and, during lunch at the conference where 78 of us gathered—hoping to get to 300 within the year—Alan sat next to the president of a large asset foundation. He explained what we hoped to do to help foundations with few or no staff, then just asked, “Will your foundation give us $100,000 to begin?” The answer came back yes. Alan’s comment to me was, “You have to ask for what you need, not for what you think might work.” His optimism, faith, stubbornness, and energy kept us all moving forward with that kind of confidence.

Although I wasn’t around to personally witness it, Alan’s leadership was catalytic in starting this organization, and all of us who have benefited from its programs and connections are richer people for Alan’s efforts. Likewise, his influence on me personally has been strong. He was always available to chat and share his perspective. We didn’t always agree, but he always engaged in thoughtful conversation and caused me to look at things in different lights. I will forever be indebted.

Dave Geenen, who succeeded Alan as executive director at the Doris & Victor Day Foundation in Rock Island, IL, noted, “One of Alan’s proudest accomplishment in the field of philanthropy was his role in Exponent Philanthropy, then ASF.”

Last week Alan shared these words with family and friends: “I’ve had a good life. I have loving friends and family. I hope that I made a dent in this world and that I have helped make it a better place.”

Alan made more than a dent in the world of philanthropy.

As he wrote in a blog post for us in 2014, “Whereas I might say I’m a grantmaker if forced to give a one-word answer for what I do, I’m really in the business of finding solutions to help my community be its best.”

Our community will miss him.

In the coming months, as we celebrate our association’s 20^th anniversary and the passionate leaders who gave us our start, we will dedicate space here on our blog to the reflections of some of our founders and earliest members. Like Alan, they have shaped our organization and our field in undeniable ways. We are fortunate to count them among our members and friends, and we are sure to learn much from their observations about small-staffed philanthropy over the past decades.