This may be a testament to how unexpectedly enduring our encounters with other folks can be over the winding course of our lives. We send out fingerling roots, and they surprise us by remaining intact in our hearts and memories many, many years down the road.
My wife, Susan, just saw Hank's obit in the Georgetown Law magazine. She was in the same class as Hank ('87) and we all lived in the same dorm-- at Trinity College!-- during their first year at law school. I was in grad school at Catholic that year, myself, and Hank lived two doors down from me. I can confirm that even then, he was the remarkable, energetic, talented, driven, brilliant, sometimes-rather-ribald, supremely self-confident, mind-speaking, flat-out hilarious man that you all came to love and to know so much better than we ever had an opportunity to. But. . . my wife and I have both mentioned him fondly over the intervening years, and wondered if he had indeed done well for himself, knowing full well that of COURSE he had. And as sad as it makes us to see that someone we remember only from our youth (someone who generally seemed about 75% more alive than any of the rest of us could ever hope to be) has been far too soon taken away, there's still a bit of warm comfort in the fact that he so obviously continued on his sure path, and touched and benefited so very, very many lives in such a profound way.
So sorry that he's gone, believe me. But still so glad that he was here.