Rob Smyth 7th February 2024

Hi Virginia, I found your email online and felt like I had to write to you after hearing of Ed's passing. I really am truly heartbroken on hearing the news... I doubt very much that you have any memory of me, as I was in Hinchley Wood School with Ed from 1994 - 2001. It wasn't until I was in the 6th form from 1999-2001 that I got to know Ed better, as I took A-Level physics with him, being taught by Fred Mowbray. There is one memory that sticks with me during this time. It is so trivial and inconsequential, however it is something that I still recollect clearly to this day. Mr. Mowbray had organised a trip for the three(!) students in his A-Level physics class to a lecture in London. I cannot recall exactly what the lecture was about, however there was a point where the lecturer called upon two volunteers to get up onto the stage to take part in an experiment. To my surprise, Ed's hand shot up - I say surprise as I never had him down as an extrovert, and I certainly didn't want to go up there myself in front of all those people, however he seemed keen. Ed was picked, along with another random person from the other side of the hall. Once they were on stage, they were given their task - they each had a button linked to a stopwatch, and they had to start the stopwatch, followed by stopping it once they felt 30 seconds had passed. Both displays of the stop watches were projected up onto a screen on the stage, and they had to face away from the screen (towards the audience) so only the audience had a clear picture of how well they did in the moment. I think the point of the test was to show that we as humans can potentially overestimate our abilities at times. There was some kind of countdown-esque jingle playing as the task was taking place to add to the atmosphere. The first guy tapped out at around 16 seconds, with the audience completely silent, and the tune still playing away in the background. At this point, I (and I am sure the rest of the audience) settled solely on Ed. He had his eyes closed, completely still, and was holding the button in one hand, and supporting that hand with the other. The clock ticked and ticked and ticked... Ed pressed the button at 29.5 seconds. There was an audible gasp in the audience, and an almost knowing chuckle from Mr. Mowbray, with the lecture host left saying "Ah, yes well... erm..." Ed made his way back to his seat as the audience clapped the pair of them off stage for their social bravery. When he sat down next to me, I asked him how he managed to do it? His reply was completely straight forward - "Meh, I just used my pulse". I think for me, there are so many things wrapped up in that incident that go a long way to mark the difference between Ed and the general population. The obvious one being that he had the lateral thinking at such a young age to use an anchor such as his own pulse, rather than doing it "in his head" like I am sure I would have done. Another is that I am willing to bet his pulse (being as fit as he was) was a lot lower than 60bpm, so there was naturally some maths involved in working out the number of beats equating to a second passing. But the one that impresses me the most, is that he was able to use his pulse as a reliable benchmark at all - It basically means that his pulse clearly did not raise whilst being up there in front of all those people, he was completely unphased by it. I never saw Ed again after leaving 6th form, however I never forgot him. I am sure you are inundated with people telling you that he was the most intelligent person that they ever met, and I must add myself to that group. I watched the service on a link, and I was blown away by so many things - the number of people in attendance, the tributes, and the sheer variety and volume of Ed's accomplishments in his life since I last saw him over 20 years ago. I send my love to you all - Ed truly was an amazing person, and certainly an inspiration to me. Robert Smyth X