Our last uncle is gone

I wonder what Harry’s parents, Izetta and Charlie thought back on November 19, 1939 the day of his birth.

Since he was child number eleven, I imagine Izetta looked at her husband, Charlie, and said, “I’m done, no more, this is our last one.”

Maybe, Charlie stared back at her, nodded his head in agreement, and walked off to check on the rest of the crew.

I’ve also wondered what his siblings thought of Harry’s arrival.

Perhaps, his brothers pondered this from a food angle. Possibly, in their chatter they reasoned, “at least for now he is on a liquid diet, he won’t be contending with us anytime soon for second helpings.”

As for his sisters, my guess is they knew sooner or later, they would be helping to take care of him as a part of their daily chores.

In truth, I wonder what Harry thought about all of this. He was the youngest. As each day unfolded, he had quite a vantage point. I’m sure Harry learned quickly about the do’s and don’t’s with Izetta and Charlie as they managed the personalities of all their children.

I still marvel at how Izetta and Charlie managed this family. My wife and I thought we’d go crazy at times with three. I can’t imagine 11.

Yet, somehow they survived. Even Harry, the youngest, the last, survived too.

Quite simply, families like the Pikes survived because of their hearts. Their hearts loved and cared for each other. When you love and care for each other, no matter eleven children— you survive.

Deep inside our hearts today, we’ve been dreading this departure. Selfishly, we needed and wanted Harry to live forever. He was our link back to our fathers and mothers who brought us into the Pike family.

Harry was our historian. He knew the connections to Aunt Grettie, Vernell, Uncle Roy, Ruth, Everett, and Pike Johnson.

Despite being 84, Harry was always young to me. Even on Sunday afternoon in his hospital bed, he looked like a Pike napping after a huge lunch following a full morning at church.

Even though that was to be his last earthly nap, it’s ok, because we have lots to celebrate and to be thankful for Harry’s 84 years.

Everyone in this Sanctuary has a Harry story.

That’s because Harry was a people person, a talker. But Harry was more than a talker.

He was also a wise listener. Carol, Glenn and Vivian, Shannon, Davis, Tanner, family, friends, and even strangers benefited from the logic of his experiences.

Harry was genuine, nothing phony.

He could laugh with you, cry with you, and hold you up when the world was pushing you down.

And yet for me, and maybe for you, I loved Harry’s loyalty.

No matter the Pike family gathering, Harry and Carol were always present. When our father, his brother Bill, died, Harry cut short a trip out of state to come back for the funeral—that’s loyalty.

But part of me believes Harry was loyal for another reason. I think he demonstrated the importance of loyalty to say to us—“Hey! next generation! Don’t let these family gatherings die. The survival of the Pikes is now on your shoulders. Don’t let me down.”

How could any of us let Harry down?

For a long time, I have loved this line of scripture from Hebrews 12:1: “let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us,”

Harry Glenn Pike for 84 years ran with perseverance the race that was set before him.

Now with the same genuine loyalty, compassion, and love let us run with perseverance the race that Harry has set before us.

And let us be sure to laugh, cry, love, and hold up Carol, Glenn and Vivian, Shannon, Davis, and Tanner with every step they take in their race.

Rest in peace Uncle Harry, we love you.

From the author: On Saturday, January 13, 2024, I had the privilege of being one of the family speakers at the celebration of life for Harry Pike.