Theodore Frank Evanila

     Theodore Frank Evanila of Great Falls, Montana passed away suddenly on July 2, 2024 at the age of 85. Ted was born in Brooklyn, New York, to George and Anna Evanila (nee Ortblad), and lived in Queens, before his family settled on Long Island. A veteran Airman of the U.S. Air Force Air Police, Ted was stationed in Vermont and Libya. His adult life journeyed him through two marriages, fatherhood, multiple faith affiliations, and residences in New York, Montana, Florida, and Alabama.
     Affectionately known as “The Sarge” during much of his decades-long career on the Suffolk County police force, Ted worked dispatch where he earned the nickname, Golden Throat; ran a sector car covering much of Brookhaven township; and eventually rounded out his career as a Sergeant, the duty officer frequently overseeing the day-to-day emergencies reported at the Suffolk County Police Communications Bureau. He mentored youth for years as the leader of the local Police Explorer Program, Post 101, and was both a frequent contributor to and elected official of the Steam Engine 39 Project. In retirement, Ted regularly attended church with his second wife, Marian, and found multiple opportunities to share his faith with others. Ted returned to school late in life, earning a degree in theology and sharing an active ministry with Marian. Together they enjoyed travel, both domestic and international.
     Ted is survived by his sister, Stella Cecelia Martinez and her husband Julio; his first wife and mother to his children, Kathleen Evanila (nee Reiter); his son, Robert Paul Thomas Evanila and wife, Charlynn; his daughter Amy Jo Jordan and husband, Greg; and four grandchildren, Sam, Mary, Isabelle, and Lily. He was preceded in death by his wife Marian Evanila (nee Meyer), an infant brother Gerard, his parents and grandparents.
     Ted’s perfect day would likely have included a flight in a B-29 Superfortress with his friends at the Commemorative Air Force; a pulpit from which to extol NYC subway histories at length; blowing the whistle on an old steam engine as it crossed a remote bridge over a nameless river in the woods; magically righting wrongs done to Native American peoples; drinking a chocolate malt through a paperstraw at a soda shop; quoting from the films The Quiet Man and The D.I. as often as possible;  telling you the same story twice to see if you were paying attention; spotting an undiscovered Civil War relic in his back yard; going back in time and health enough to hike the Appalachian Trail; and trying to reduce the ills of the planet to a clever one-liner.
     It seemed Ted’s deepest desire was to simplify the world around those he loved, that they might avoid the burdens he saw as complexity for complexity’s sake weighing down the soul. To whatever degree his attempted positive messages to us in life may have waxed their opposite, his message to us in death is the simplest form of hope, “Everything’s going to be okay.” His final wishes proceed from that simplified world view, passionately opting against any funeral, service, or memorial, such that his children should
instead deliver his ashen remains to specific points around the country in quiet remembrance of his road behind and the work ahead.

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