Feliks Krupa was a man larger than life. We all knew him as the custodian of Patwin Elementary School, but he was much more. He was our gatekeeper, greeter, lover of spicy samosas and friend to all.

He knew the names of every student, staff and substitute teacher. There are ten thousand stories about Feliks floating around the Patwin community. Here are some touching remembrances of our beloved Brother Feliks.

"Feliks was the heart and soul of Patwin. A most remarkable man with a remarkable history, he will be missed by many and was  loved by all," says Kate Bowen, former Patwin teacher.

I met Feliks on a hot August morning in 1999. My seven-year-old son and I were on an informal tour of Patwin Elementary School in West Davis. We had just moved to Davis, and my son was intimidated by the size of his new school. We stood near the lunch tables, looking a little lost. And that’s when we heard a heavily accented voice singing, "Happy Friday to you! Happy Friday to you!"

My son looked up at me. "Doesn't he know it's Thursday?"

I shrugged and turned around, and there he was, a neatly dressed man wearing a white hat. (We later learned that he was never seen without this hat). He noticed us right away and came over. He held out a large, meaty hand to my son. "Hello, my brother."

He then turned to me. "Hello, my princess. You are new to Patwin?"

I nodded and said we were looking for the library. (The most important building in my mind).

"Let me show you. I'm Feliks. Come, brother."

And just like that, I saw the tension go out of my son's body. He stood a little taller, and with a bright look in his brown eyes, he followed Feliks down the quad steps to the library (the most beautiful welcoming room I had ever seen).

"Is he the principal?" my son asked me.

It was only much later that I learned Feliks Krupa was the custodian at our school. The man who knew everyone and everything about Patwin, his home for more than three decades.

Former and late principal Mike Parker put it best: "Fortunately, when I became principal of Patwin, I was experienced enough to know who really runs the school—the secretaries and the custodian. It didn't take me long to realize the school had a custodian extraordinaire! Felix's "hello my darlings," morning greetings, and ability to make all kids feel special and noticed helped me start each day with a smile, knowing we were in good hands. Thanks, Feliks- you will always be my favorite custodian."

Over the next few years, I watched Feliks interact with staff and students. He was a one-man welcoming party. Scared little boys and girls shook off their parents' hands and ran to greet Feliks, forgetting to be nervous. He brought his unique brand of humor to every situation.

Perhaps his background and history made him sympathetic to all human beings, especially the youngsters.

Feliks spent time in a Polish prison for supporting the Solidarity labor unions with the charismatic activist Lech Walesa. This experience taught him loyalty and the importance of friendship and made him uniquely qualified for his job at Patwin.

Former Patwin principal Michelle Flowers says, "Feliks was my protector. I knew he always had my back and deeply cared for ALL kids. He had a big voice and an even bigger heart. Feliks was part of Patwin's heart and will be deeply missed. I love you, Feliks!"

Former Patwin principal Gay Bourguignon added, "Feliks was always more than a custodian. He made students and families feel welcome at Patwin. He had brightened all our days with his cheerful greetings and caring ways. Feliks was our eyes and ears keeping our campus safe. He knew when a student or staff member was struggling and gave them a little extra TLC. By my count, he has touched the lives of over 10,000 students during his tenure at Patwin. He has trained at least seven principals! I appreciate all he has done to help me and care for our school community."

Here's one from former Patwin teacher Sarbjit Nahal. "Our Thursday morning coffee dates discussing politics, telling jokes, and teaching Feliks about filtering what he says are priceless moments I will always cherish in my life. Feliks would send out an APB if I was ever late for our Thursday morning coffee date! I would literally get a phone call or text from my colleagues Tyshawn or Linda wondering where I was."

The Patwin community celebrated Feliks’ milestones. There was his yearly birthday celebration in November, where staff members (Kate Bowen and Suzanne Fortin Morgan) outdid themselves each year by decorating the staff room in unique and colorful ways. We all waved the American flag when Feliks became a US citizen in 2000, and we were all worried when he was ill.

Feliks and I shared a love of good food. He always requested samosas for his birthdays. Sarbjit Nahal and I took turns bringing in the spicy Indian snack. A few years ago, I made Pierogis for his birthday. "They are just like what my mother used to make," he told me, a kind and wonderful compliment. He was always giving me large jars of his favorite sauerkraut, and so when I made a batch of the fermented cabbage dish, I, of course, had to share some with him.

When I told my now-grown son that Feliks had just passed away, he said, "Oh, no. Patwin and Davis will never be the same."

Perhaps.

But I like to think that years from now, a little boy or girl will sit on Feliks' commemorative bench and run their fingers over his name. For a moment, they will hear "Hey brother or hi princess" in the soft breeze. The boy or girl will feel welcome and safe on that special black bench. After all, you really can't take Feliks out of Patwin; his good nature is entrenched in those pale pastel walls.

 Rest in peace, Brother Feliks.

My latest book: Sunshine Clinic is now available on Amazon.

My grandson, Lawson Finn Klein.