WINTHROP – The greatest movie never made was based on a man named Edward C. Gall who was born in Littleton, N.H., in 1930.

He was a stylish character who wore a thick gold chain, had over a hundred pairs of golf shoes, and was definitely the only person in Augusta to own a white Ferrari Testarossa. If you somehow didn’t notice his outfit when he entered the room, it wouldn’t take long before you noticed his laugh — a loud, inimitable “HEE hee hee” that would echo across Cobbossee Lake and wake up his neighbors in La Quinta, Calif., where he spent his adult winters.

This was the story of a typewriter repairman who learned to sell and somehow parlayed that skill into an empire of buildings, businesses, and thousands of employees across Maine. It was the story of a man who met the love of his life, Lynn, on a blind date to Sugarloaf Mountain, stuck an engagement ring inside her golf glove just four months later, and then took her on the greatest adventure of her life for the next 54 years. Every character in Eddie’s story wanted to be just like him but they settled for being around him. In this story, for just short of 92 incredible years, everything Ed Gall touched turned to gold.

Eddie was the middle child of James and Mary Gall, born between two sisters, Mabel and Myra. In 1949, Eddie entered the U.S. Air Force and served in the Korean War. For three years, he was stationed in the southern tip of Japan, where he flew troops to Korea and worked at a movie theater in his spare time, somehow earning enough money to send some back home to his parents. When he returned to the U.S., he worked at a gas station on Front Street in Waterville, where he bought and sold and fell in love with cars. In his 30s, Eddie’s mother saw an ad in the newspaper that led to a job fixing typewriters for T. E. Sutton Agency in Augusta. Eventually, he took over the company and named it Transco, which would sell typewriters, copy machines, and office furniture to people and businesses all across Maine. As his business grew, so did Eddie’s ambitions, and he soon invested in real estate, a Wendy’s franchise, and countless other successful ventures.

Numbers came easy to him, and even at the age of 91, when he might occasionally forget someone’s name, he still didn’t forget how much he paid for an orange Chevy Vega in 1974. He was blessed with an uncanny ability to sniff out good and bad deals just as fast as he could sniff out good and bad people. He could negotiate like no other – jingling change in his pocket, casually pointing out a negative, intentionally creating an awkward silence. The opposite of desperation. The other side never had a chance. If Eddie trusted you, he was fiercely loyal to you, and as a result, there is a long list of people around Augusta who spent their entire careers working for him. He was never one to bark orders and he’d always ask his employees what they thought. “I wouldn’t do this for anyone but Eddie,” was something his employees were heard to have said time and time again. He was the kind of guy who was named Businessman of the Year twice by the Chamber of Commerce, and when they tried to give it to him a third time, he told them to give it to someone else. He was also the kind of guy who showed up at his best friend’s 30th birthday party with three gifts: a pig, a Japanese rooster, and a broken down race horse named Happy Songster. Because, really, the story of Ed Gall is the story of a guy who saw the magnificent beauty of life and made it his mission to make those around him see it too.

While Fast Eddie was often accused of having great luck (the man had 12 holes-in-one), nobody was luckier than his large family, who were able to join in on his great adventure. His three daughters, Jayne, Jodie, and Janice, and his two sons, Jason and Ryan, were taken under Eddie’s wing, showered by his love, and offered an almost daily dose of his wisdom. “If it’s not one thing, it’s the same thing,” he’d say when unexpected problems arose. “It always happens to the ones it always happens to,” he’d say about a person who keeps finding bad luck. When Eddie spoke, you listened. When he gave you something, you took it. If he didn’t give you something that you asked for, then you knew he was right.

Eddie believed that golf was more fun with at least 17 clubs in his bag. He believed that weddings were more fun if there was a guy (him) walking around with a bottle of good tequila. He believed in keeping his cars clean — his adult children learned to pull into the car wash before they pulled into his driveway. His favorite breakfast spot was in a gas station. He wasn’t afraid to wear a lot of Polo cologne. His favorite hobby in his 90’s was pushing dirt around his lake property with a skid steer loader. He loved opening a bottle of wine on his deck with his wife, daughters, and adult granddaughters. He read the horoscopes every morning and couldn’t help but trust them. He always ordered spaghetti with red sauce at fancy Italian restaurants. He could never resist buying a bakery donut or a fresh pie and couldn’t understand if you didn’t want to try a piece. He almost never wore socks. Whether you were a taxi driver or a knee surgeon, he’d lean in and ask, “How’s business?” Then he’d carefully listen to (and always learn from) your answer. He adored all animals – he recently befriended a wild bighorn sheep whom he called “Cash,” and he hand-fed him fruit from the citrus trees in his California yard. He played in a golf foursome with his best friends, Al Graceffa, Pump Stowell, and John Rizzo, for 50 years and probably lost money fewer than 50 times. He refused to go to funerals because he said they made him sad. If Roy Orbison or Neil Diamond came on the radio, he’d turn it up too loud. He could pull off pink shorts and an orange shirt. He was a character with so many layers as only the very best characters have.

Like all movies, at some point, the remarkable story of Edward Gall had to come to an end. But like only the greatest of movies, it left everyone wanting so much more, only taking solace in the fact that his adventures, his wisdom, and his love will live on long after the credits roll. His wife, five children, 11 grandchildren, nine great-grandchildren, and friends from Maine to California will know that if they’re ever in an important business meeting and there’s a moment of silence, they can close their eyes and hear the faint sounds of change jingling in Eddie’s pocket. If they’re ever on the golf course and hit a shot into the woods, they might not escape Eddie’s voice saying, “What the he** was that?!” And if they enter a party or a restaurant where everyone is having fun, they might just hear that loud, magnificent “HEE hee hee” that can’t help but make them smile and can’t help but inspire them to make their own story half as spectacular as Eddie Gall made his.