Happy Birthday James Henry

My father, James Rogers Henry, was born on June 3, 1931. He died on August 1, 2020. His funeral was not what he'd envisioned, I'm sure, because he spent a lot of time at church. He probably thought his family would be gathered in the pews to celebrate his life.

My family, and the rest of the world, were in the middle of an historic epidemic and postposed his memorial, later gathering in my brother's airplane hangar on a stormy day in May. Nothing was as any of us might have imagined.

The memorial was fitting because my father had learned to fly at the same airport when he was a teen, earning his pilot's license when he was sixteen. From that time, he'd always had an airplane or two or three. And, if there was one overhead, his eyes were on the sky.

His eyes were frequently on the night sky, and he could point out all the constellations, major stars, and planets. When his children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren remember him, it's usually looking up to his 6'3" frame, as his head was tilted to the sky, building a campfire for storytelling, or setting up the counter in the kitchen for making pancakes.

Now, he's, no doubt, looking down and in the company of David Lamar, Opal, Bobbie Sue, and Maxine, Willie G, Dub, Stacy, Aunt Dee, Uncle Billy, Glenn and Etta, and a host of Henrys and Rogers.

It's remarkable this year that his birthday falls on the same day as the Parade of Planets. Six planets will be aligned and visible from Texas on Monday, June 3, 2024. I, for one, will be looking to the sky. I'm certain that James Henry would encourage everyone to do the same.