Larry HENSLEY

August 22, 1942 - April 26, 2025

A Tribute to Larry Hensley,

It is with both aching hearts and profound privilege that we share the passing of Larry Hensley, who departed this earth on Saturday, April 26, at the age of 83, after a valiant battle with the slow fading of dementia. Though illness may have unraveled his strength and memories toward the end, it could never diminish the luminous life he lived, nor the indelible mark he etched upon the hearts of all who knew him.

Larry is survived by his wife, Kathleen. He also loved and cared for his four children; along with nine grandchildren; and nine great-grandchildren.

Some souls move through this world not with noise or fanfare, but like a steady river - shaping everything they touch, leaving the earth quieter, richer, and more beautiful in their passing. Larry is one of these souls.

His earthly journey began in Port Townsend, Washington, on August 22, 1942. While still a boy, his family took root on the eastern side of the state, where the wide skies, windswept fields, and patient rhythms of country life became the quiet anthems of his youth. He attended Cheney High School near Spokane, and remained forever tethered to Eastern Washington - a land he revered for its open grandeur, its quiet steadfastness, and its familiar, sacred soil.

He was a man carved of simple yet immutable virtues: faith, industry, humility, and an abiding reverence for the creatures and landscapes that shaped him. These tenets were not worn loudly, but carried deep within him, steady and dependable as the turning of the seasons.

Larry devoted his working life to UPS, where he was among the pioneering five drivers who first set forth in the Spokane region. Over decades of service, he built not merely a career, but a covenant of trust - a reputation gilded with dependability, integrity, and grit. Rain or shine, he drove with unwavering purpose, amassing 32 years of safe passages, his brown uniform stitched not just with seams but with honor. Customers became companions, and delivering became more than a duty - it was a silent devotion, a quiet vow to provide, protect, and persevere.

Beyond his labors, Larry was a man of deep, enduring passions. His love for automobiles was the stuff of legend. He could divine the make and year of any machine by the growl of its engine alone; a symphony of pistons and gears sang a language only he fully understood. His garage was a sanctum - filled with sweat, stories, and the sacred ritual of passing down hard-won wisdom to those he cherished most. A place where bonds were sewn quietly over held flashlights and passed tools, where he taught the children he loved so dearly.

Larry was an avid outdoorsman, harvesting not merely trophies but lifetimes of memories. Hunting and fishing across the United States, he sought communion with the wilderness rather than conquest. The woods and wild places were his cathedral - the morning mists, the call of the distant elk, the hush of falling snow his hymns and benedictions. To walk the earth with Larry was to feel the breath of God in the pines, the holy hush of creation in every valley and hill.

In the company of horses, Larry's spirit found another home. He tended them with the same quiet fidelity he offered the world, and they, in turn, trusted him without question. He was a true horseman - boarding and caring for many trusted companions over the years - and he shared this bond with his children and grandchildren, teaching by deed more than by word. Where others needed commands, Larry needed only his steady hands, his patient presence. He understood that love speaks most eloquently in silence.

He lived his faith not with proclamation, but with practice - honoring his word, tending his land, stewarding his family, and moving through life with a grace both humble and profound.

Though he was often a man of few words, his life was a rich, unfolding story for those willing to listen - a story written in loyalty, perseverance, and the quiet majesty of a soul who lived for others rather than for acclaim. His children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren were the crowning achievement of a life well-lived, each of them carrying forward the legacy of his unshakable love.

Though the twilight of his life was shadowed by dementia, it is not the illness we remember. It is the way his eyes still sparkled around family, the rich laughter woven into stories of hunts and horsepower, the dusty trails and ornery horses he once rode, and the stillness in which he worshipped his creator among forest and field.

His subtle acts of love are what we will cherish the most. Seeing him fall asleep by a fire with a beloved cat on his stomach, watching him blow kisses to a picture of his great granddaughter, or him smiling down at a grandchild as he pulled a piece of chocolate out of his shirt pocket to share after a long day of chasing whitetails.

We know he is at peace now, reconnecting with dearly departed family and friends, and fishing the heavenly trout streams with his beloved grandson, Nick.

We are grateful for every shared sunrise, every tireless lesson, every moment of his steadfast love. He taught us that true strength whispers, profound love endures, and the richest life is measured not in applause but in the gentle swelling of hearts left better for having known him.

True strength is not loud or boastful. It is steady, enduring, and full of love - shown not in grand gestures, but in the quiet way a man lives his life for others. There are men whose lives sing not in grand choruses, but in quiet ballads - sung on the wind, etched into the soil, carried forward in the hearts of those who loved them.

Rest easy, Larry. We will carry your spirit in our hearts always.