And he would do anything for a friend.

Henry would never phrase his kindness as an offer. He'd simply decide what needed to be done and tell you - "Well, I figure I'll just do this," whatever the thing might be.  Like the time he drove my wife and I to and from work for a few weeks, while our (then) only car was out of commission. We'd all pile into his two door Tercel (he almost always left his fancy BMW at home) and he'd ferry us back and forth every day.

Maybe he'd also call us luzers en route or ask us to duck-down so he wouldn't be seen with white people. He was that kind of guy and it makes me smile now to think of those times. If you knew Henry, it probably makes you smile too.

Henry was also a beloved father, a son, a brother, a husband, a decorated solider, a friend and so many other things. I can only imagine the pain of his passing for those who were closer to him than I. For someone of his character and talents to be taken so young is beyond tragic. There are no words. It simply belies any greater purpose in this universe.