01/29/2026
I often find myself returning to the phrase “we contain multitudes” when contemplating the fullness and complexities of a life. It feels especially true when I think about my friend Carlton “Hub” Edwards. In the dozen or so years that I was lucky enough to know him, I came to see how many worlds he carried within him and how naturally he moved among them.
At Hub’s wake, I could see the reflection shining off every facet of his long and rich life. People came from every corner of the community: Veterans, educators, historians, neighbors, former students, old friends, and young families all gathered together to see our friend off. You could see immediately that Hub was not a man who belonged to only one place or one chapter of Setauket’s story. He belonged to all of it.
Hub’s life traced the arc of the community itself. Born and raised in the historic neighborhood of Chicken Hill, he carried within his blood a deep connection to the Black history of Setauket and to the generations who built lives here under conditions that were often unfair and unyielding. He was a living link to the Melvilles, having worked as Ward Melville’s golf caddie and as an acquaintance to Dorothy Melville. As a young man, he was an exceptional athlete, a pitcher whose talent opened doors that few were allowed to walk through at the time. His path took him into military service during the Korean War, and he returned home carrying that experience with quiet dignity. He never made a spectacle of his service, but he honored it, faithfully and humbly, and of special note was his stewardship of the Irving Hart Post of the American Legion in Setauket.
For decades, Hub worked in the Three Village Central School District, where his true contribution meant more than a job title ever could. He was a coach, a mentor, and a steady presence who showed up day after day for young people. Later, through his work with the Three Village Historical Society, he became a steward of memory, insisting that history was not something frozen behind glass but something alive, human, and worth telling honestly.
What stays with me most is not a single role he played, but the way he held all of them together. Hub embodied the idea that people are not one thing. Neither are communities. We are layered, complicated, shaped by joy and hardship alike. Hub reflected the full face and long history of Setauket, and was a warm and welcoming friend and neighbor.
He touched countless lives simply by being present, by listening, by remembering, and by caring. In honoring Hub, we are reminded that a community’s strength lies in its multitudes, and that sometimes one person can carry those multitudes with grace. I’ll miss chatting with him on the front steps of his house about “the old days" in Setauket and confess to regret not doing it more often when I had the chance. My deepest sympathies to his wife Nellie, his son Blake and to all our friends who have lost a great son of Setauket.
