Ezra Beimborn

Family and friends of Ezra gathered last night at Old Stove Brewing to celebrate his life and remember the person we all loved so much.

Stories were shared, memories were revisited, and the night was filled with plenty of laughter. It was a special evening surrounded by people who cared deeply about Ezra.

Hopefully, this will be the first of many more gatherings where we can come together, share stories, laugh, and keep Ezra’s memory alive.

Ezra’s humor came through in his 1st and 2nd grade writing. See above

Memorial Speech: My Brother Ezra
By Augie Beimborn

Hello everyone. I’m Augie, Ezra’s older brother for those who don’t know.

I’m deeply moved by how many people are here today. At the same time, knowing the kind of person Ezra was and how many lives he touched, I’m not surprised.

Over the years, my brother filled so many roles in my life. He was my best friend, my playmate, my travel partner, my sidekick in trouble, my confidant, and so much more. But there was one role he played that might surprise people.

The way sibling relationships are supposed to work is that the younger brother looks up to the older brother as a role model. And I know Ezra looked up to me. But in our relationship, I also looked up to Ezra. There were so many things about him that I couldn’t help but admire.

There was his incredible athleticism. My grandpa likes to tell the story of watching the two of us play sports. I’d come off the field with a muddy uniform, a bloody nose, looking like I’d been through a war—but I’d have scored two goals. Ezra, on the other hand, would walk off the field looking like a prince, with a spotless uniform and four goals.

There was his intelligence. There aren’t many people in the world who can confidently name every capital city in sub-Saharan Africa, but Ezra could do it easily.

Then there was his sense of humor. As almost everyone here knows, Ezra was incredibly funny. Sometimes he’d make a joke, and I’d just sit there in awe, wondering, “How did he even think of that? At this moment, in this situation, and that quickly?” It was a gift.

He was also one of the most wholesome people I’ve ever known. If you wanted an update on the baby animals at Woodland Park Zoo, Ezra was your guy. He genuinely cared about the little things that brought joy to people. He always prioritized his family and friends and made sure they knew they mattered.

And he was unbelievably generous. Whenever Ezra showed up somewhere, he almost always came bearing gifts. It’s fitting that we have Pagliacci here tonight, because that was his favorite thing to bring—whether it was a family dinner or coming over to watch a game.

But what I admired most about my brother was his kindness.

Ezra had a truly kind soul. Everyone who spent time with him couldn’t help but leave feeling just a little bit better. He had a warmth about him that made people feel seen, welcomed, and cared for. That’s a rare gift.

So what do we do now?

There is a huge hole left by Ezra’s passing—not just in our family, but among his friends, throughout our community, and in the world. His presence made this world a better place.

One of the final promises I made to my brother on his last day was that I would live for him.

Today, I want to challenge everyone here to do the same.
What does it mean to live for Ezra?

To me, it means trying every day to practice the qualities that made him so special: his kindness, his generosity, his wholesomeness, his curiosity, his intelligence, and his incredible sense of humor. If each of us carries even a small piece of who Ezra was into the way we treat others, then his impact doesn’t end here. It continues through all of us.

Only then can we begin to fill even a small part of the void left by my beloved brother.
Thank you.

Two Peas in a Pod!

I'd like to thank Liam Moore-Tobiason for bringing Ezra into my life. I went to BHS with Ezra and his brother, but I was in between both of their grades, so we never really bonded while we were in school. Fast forward to our time in Bellingham, and Ezra became one of my closest friends.

I worked at Elizabeth Station up there, and eventually Liam came on board. Shortly after Liam, Ezra joined too, and suddenly we had the whole gang "working" hard.

Those shifts - no matter how annoyingly long they were, or how frustrated we'd get over all the changes we were so quick to suggest that never happened (I think we all still hate Tam) - were always a joy with Ezra. I don't think I ever saw him genuinely mad. Even during the busiest, most frustrating rushes, he'd be cracking jokes because, at the end of the day, it's just pizza. How bad can it really be when you're getting paid to make pizzas and pour beers with your friends?

I was always excited to see Ezra and Liam back there. Maybe not the most efficient crew - but easily the most enjoyable and fun to be around.

I'll never forget the few times Ezra tried to step up behind the bar when I, or one of the other bartenders, wasn't there. Apron on, pizza dough flying out of the ying yang, Ezra would step up with full confidence, knowing damn well he did not have the beer answers people were looking for. But he had this willingness and gentle comfortability about him that made people feel taken care of anyway. Somehow, even if he couldn't answer their question, they left feeling like they were in good hands.

There were also several food creations that looked like they came straight out of a terrifying cartoon that he and Liam would dream up, and I shed more tears laughing with those two than I can count. I wouldn't trade any of those moments for the world.

Ezra wasn't exactly great at disc golf during the phase Liam and I went through during COVID, but he was always down to come along. That was Ezra. He didn't need to be the best at something - he just wanted to be there with his friends.

A man of simplicity, kindness, and fun. Ezra brought joy into my life and made my world a better place. I know Liam and I can both say that the years after COVID weren't always easy, and having Ezra there made those times a whole lot brighter. I'll never forget the friend he was to me during those years in Bellingham.

You'll be missed, buddy.

See you later.

Love,
Tommy