Death of John William Henson III

The following tribute was submitted by Shandelle Henson, professor of mathematics and professor of biology, in honor of her father, John William Henson III.

---

My dad, John William Henson III, died on Monday, March 13, at the hospital in St. Joseph, Michigan, after a week's illness. Dad was born near Collegedale, Tennessee, in 1930 to a farming family. His father died when Dad was 6 months old, and his mother raised him alone in a small white house on what was then Camp Road near Southern Missionary College.

The family was Baptist and Methodist. Dad's mom, who was very smart but had a third-grade education, became an Adventist when he was a child. Adventists were huge on getting a good education, so Dad went to Collegedale Academy and then Southern, earning a bachelor's in chemistry with a minor in German. He toured worn-torn Europe alone for a summer in 1953. He married my mom, Audrey Gackenheimer, who was a musician from a missionary family, in 1951. They were married for 72 years until his death. He was president of Starkey Printing Company in Chattanooga, Tennessee, until his retirement. He and Mom moved to Niles, Michigan, in 2011 to live by my husband Jim and me.

My older sister Brenda, older brother John, and I were surrounded by intellectual interests at home. We would sit around the family dinner table every night and Dad would often start an intellectual discussion with us. We were encouraged to make our opinions known and then defend them. Occasionally this led to tears of frustration, but more often it led to, "That's a pretty good argument." Those were great times. We kids went on to further learning in graduate school and research careers.

Dad was ethical, honest and compassionate. He protested racial segregation in Chattanooga in the 50s and 60s, and he was a supporter of "women's lib," as he called it. He encouraged and inspired us children to aim for great careers.

Dad and I worked together on all kinds of interesting projects for over 50 years. Mothers are obviously special, but there is nothing like a good father. He could figure out any of my childhood problems and he made me feel safe. When I heard him snoring at night, I knew everything was okay, because Dad was in the house. When I became a teenager and had fits of anxiety and frustration, Dad would say, "I understand; it's okay." He gave me a blueprint for how to be an ethical person of strength and compassion, and he showed me what God is like.

Dad loved Jesus, he loved my mom, he loved us three kids, and he loved his neighbor.

I realize intellectually that I have this backwards, but my inner being says that if God is anything like my Dad and my Mom, then God is a really great guy!

Rest in peace, Daddy, until we are together again. I love you.