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Everybody Knows A Henry

I had word yesterday morning that a good friend has been blessed with a son. They named the new arrival Henry.

I wrote back asking if he would be called Henry, or Hank, or another nickname (his middle name is Duke), and I ended up with an informative response that included a long family history of great great grandfathers bearing the name Henry.

This all gave me pause to consider the Henry's I have had in my life. My great great uncle on my maternal side was named Henry and he was an ornery cuss in a fun sort of way. I remember he loved bowling well into his eighties and even after having a couple of toes removed due to diabetes, he still managed to bowl a good game.

Earlier on, while being introduced to my then husband for the first time, he tried to convince my husband, who is Jewish, that he was not really Jewish and that he looked like other light haired Germans. He managed to do this without upsetting my husband and they became good friends.

At one point Henry decided (again in his eighties) that he was going to go to Israel, alone, because he had always wanted to make the trip. And he did!

The other Henry in my life was an Uncle who married into the family on my Father's side. He went by Uncle Hank. He was a quiet man who graciously took my brother into his home and raised him as his son even though Uncle Hank already had two daughters and a wife to support. Although I didn't see him very often, my memories of him are fond ones. He was a hard working man who stayed in the background at gatherings, but had a wonderfully delightful laugh and the ability to make us feel at ease. I remember him even going down the slippery slide at a local park one day which I thought was not only out of character, but extremely cool. Hank in his overalls....

Have a Henry in your family tree or among your friends? I just bet you do! So lets hear some stories about the Henry in your lives.