He could be rude and forward and didn't care who was across the table from him but he was admired and respected in town, especially by the older guys who he hung with.
After playing Poker for over sixty years, several times a week, Henry claimed to never have gotten a royal flush, the highest hand in the game. The odds of getting a royal flush were high, but out of all the cards he played over the years, to never beat the odds and get that perfect hand at least once was remarkable.
He always chased that elusive royal flush, both on and off the card table. It kept him going in life.
One memorable Henry incident was the time he forget about Aunt Sue's lottery tickets. She played the same numbers every day. It was their 50th wedding anniversary, and she played 5017, which stood for 50 years and the date they were married, November 17th.
5017, every day, for years.
For some reason Henry forgot to get tickets that day of all days and guess what the daily number was that night? Unbelievably, 5017 came up straight- $5,000 down the drain. It wasn't the end of the world but pretty close to it.
Poor Henry was at a loss for words when he got home that night from fishing and Sue asked if he had the winning tickets. That little slip would haunt him for years, and whenever a disagreement would come up she would save that final jab in the argument about the infamous lottery incident.
Our fondest memories were coming home from Atlantic City and stopping at Pat's Steaks in South Philly for a tasty cheese steak at four in the morning. Henry was in his glory, chomping down a steak on the streets where "Rocky" was filmed. He grew up down the city so he was familiar with this atmosphere and soaked it up.
We took many day trips together after Dad died: to New York, to visit relatives in Jersey, or just an evening ride for ice cream in the summer. Each time I couldn't wait to spend time with Henry, He made me laugh and he was fun to be around. You never knew what he was going to say or do.. He could be embarrassing at times with his language and bad manners, but most often he was a joy to be around. The life of the party, a family event wasn't the same without Henry.
Henry helped us out after Dad died. He was our handyman, and since he had a lot of free time after retirement, (when he wasn't fishing) he would stop by and fix a leaky faucet or whatever needed to be done around the house. He often dropped off a basket of fresh corn on the cob at our front door, asking nothing in return.
He took me under his wing, took me out of my doldrums, and got me out of the house I was pretty down after quititng at Penn , with no prospects or dreams in sight. . Henry, in his own clever way, knew what he was doing. Maybe he lacked formal education, only going as far as sixth grade, but he had more common sense then anyone I ever met, something people often lacked.
He liked a good football or baseball game, smoked like a chimney (the aroma of his trademark cigars lingering on his clothing, just another reason to irratate Sue). He ate bacon and eggs each morning, didn't care about cholesterol, and drank beer in moderation.
They had one son, Eddie, a drifter who rarely held down a job, on the road a lot, travelling to Las Vegas and back, making a buck wherever he could, be it selling Christmas trees over the holidays or setting up a roadside stand hawking t-shirts. He was leading the lifestyle Henry probably would've loved to lead, if he wasn't expected to be the breadwinner and family provider.
When Eddie got sick from stomach cancer and died in his fifties it took the heart and soul out of Henry and Sue. Imagine losing your only child, dying before you. Sue was always the emotional one anyway , crying often, out of sorrow and joy. She took care of her son at home until he passed, helping him with a feeding tube when he no longer could eat by mouth,
Henry was the stoic one, typical male, never showing his emotions. But after Eddie's death, Henry was noticeably quieter and restrained, like a piece of his heart was taken away. His son was a clone of Henry, both in looks and personality. Although he never showed it in front of us, people reported seeing Henry alone during the day visiting Eddie's grave, taking out a white handkerchief and weeping.
This time we were the ones consoling Henry and Sue, urging him to continue his card games, his fishing and his usual routine. But it wasn't the same and never would be.
He took me under his wing, took me out of my doldrums, and got me out of the house I was pretty down after quititng at Penn , with no prospects or dreams in sight. . Henry, in his own clever way, knew what he was doing. Maybe he lacked formal education, only going as far as sixth grade, but he had more common sense then anyone I ever met, something people often lacked.
He liked a good football or baseball game, smoked like a chimney (the aroma of his trademark cigars lingering on his clothing, just another reason to irratate Sue). He ate bacon and eggs each morning, didn't care about cholesterol, and drank beer in moderation.
They had one son, Eddie, a drifter who rarely held down a job, on the road a lot, travelling to Las Vegas and back, making a buck wherever he could, be it selling Christmas trees over the holidays or setting up a roadside stand hawking t-shirts. He was leading the lifestyle Henry probably would've loved to lead, if he wasn't expected to be the breadwinner and family provider.
When Eddie got sick from stomach cancer and died in his fifties it took the heart and soul out of Henry and Sue. Imagine losing your only child, dying before you. Sue was always the emotional one anyway , crying often, out of sorrow and joy. She took care of her son at home until he passed, helping him with a feeding tube when he no longer could eat by mouth,
Henry was the stoic one, typical male, never showing his emotions. But after Eddie's death, Henry was noticeably quieter and restrained, like a piece of his heart was taken away. His son was a clone of Henry, both in looks and personality. Although he never showed it in front of us, people reported seeing Henry alone during the day visiting Eddie's grave, taking out a white handkerchief and weeping.
This time we were the ones consoling Henry and Sue, urging him to continue his card games, his fishing and his usual routine. But it wasn't the same and never would be.
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