UNCLE HAL

Yesterday afternoon, while the snow was sifting heavily down and everything was kind of still, my Brother-in-Law, Harold Pendexter died. He left behind my husband's sister, Marcia, and his and Marcia's children: John and Dianne and their families, and Stephanie. And a thousand people whose lives he had touched in one way or another.

Hal was a type AAA. Loud, often overbearing, smart, politically conservative, outspoken. Also devoted passionately to his wife and children, to his job, to his life.

When Hal asked you a question: "How are your dogs?" Even though I knew for a fact that he did not care about dogs at all, I also knew he really meant the question, and he listened to the answer, and he asked more questions, and he listened to those answers, and you were, for those moments, the most important person at the table, or in the room. All his attention focused on you, and your dogs, and what you were saying about them.

When Hal wrote and asked "How are you and John?" he actually meant it. It was not a polite salutation, he wanted to know.
He was a passionate sports fan. He was a passionate Opera fan. I have no idea what else-- he bought two huge pieces of glass art from my son, he drove all the way to Tennessee to attend the wedding.

Hal was unique, as are we all. Before John's (my husband) mother died, we would all go to Marcia and Hal's for holiday dinners or desserts or whatever, and Genevieve, John and Marcia's Mother would say "Now Beverly, please, don't pick a fight with Hal today."

But always, sitting round the table, Hal would say something about politics, or social norms, or wars, and I would be instantly on the offensive. I was never very good at arguing with him but I always gave it a try. It was a game. My mistake was, early on, treating it as more than the game that it was. It was a serious game, but neither of us held a grudge.

Gradually, over the years, we both grew up.

Hal had a presence. A power. He was a fine man, a fantastic businessman, a devoted family man, and he DROVE people to excel, to try their best. It must have been hard on the kids, because I have no doubt that he drove them, as well. Marcia was always right there-- the mitigating factor: the gentling touch, the port in everyone's storms: but her devotion to Hal was unquestioned and profound.

I cannot now imagine the cosmos without that Presence, that Force. The laugh, the hugs, the guidence, the love of life,  the quick riposte, the appreciation of arts and the interest he had in everyone, and everything.

We will miss you terribly, Hal. God be with you. And please, Hal-- don't argue with Him.