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Monday, November 01, 2004

My annual cigar 

By TigerHawk at 11/01/2004 11:20:00 PM
My father, John Bell Henneman, Jr., would have been 69 today. I try to remember him on his birthday. One of my most persistent and evocative memories of my father is the smell of his cigars, which he smoked fairly constantly (or at least it seemed so to us). I retrieve memories of my father on this night every year by smoking a cigar of the brand that he smoked later in life, Garcia Vegas. Both fortunately and unfortunately, they are the kind of cigar that you can find in any drug store. But they do bring back memories of Dad. Other memories here.

We love you, Dad.

Time to toss my clothes in the hamper.

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3 Comments:

By Anonymous Anonymous, at Tue Nov 02, 07:59:00 AM:

Very touching, Tigerhawk. I'm glad that sentiment overrules domestic sensibility in this case, but if Mrs. Tigerhawk did let you smoke the stogie inside, you owe her one, as putting your clothes directly in the hamper isn't enough.

The Centrist  

By Blogger TigerHawk, at Tue Nov 02, 08:23:00 AM:

Actually, I was dispatched to the back deck, which was fine with me. The November night also reminded me of my father. He used to talk about the wonderful smell of burning leaves in autumn as he fired up his cigar. Not quite the burning leaves we all remember from our pre-Clean Air Act youth!  

By Anonymous Anonymous, at Tue Nov 02, 08:07:00 PM:

My reaction tonight is the same as the afternoon when you delivered other very warm words about your Dad at his memorial service in the Princeton chapel. Your Dad sounds like he was my kind of guy and someone who I wish I had the chance to meet. I suspect though that the apple hasn't fallen to far from the tree, Tigerhawk, and in knowing you I get the feeling that I know the kind of man and legacy that your Dad was. God bless your Dad, Tigerhawk.

- Crusader  

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