Rayo Family News

So, why Henry?

Henry is the name of my grandfather. Papa Schmidt. That's him getting down with me at my wedding. I'm the dude that looks a bit like an epileptic fish. I'm 26 in this picture. He's 80. Dead serious .. he's 80. And he is keeping up with me step for step.

This dude's resume would make you weep, his parties would still drop your jaw, and his jumper ... alright, his basketball game is a bit of a weakness. He served our country as an engineer in Okinawa. But those things are not what endears him to me.

Papa is all class. He matriculated in the age of wingtips and boxer shorts (old school boxers), and he knows how to dance. He has always been a role model to me, and I love him dearly. Sarah and I have always tried to carry a little of (Gramma) Peg and Henry with us. That's them on their wedding day in 1945. Being "Peg and Henry" to us means being solid, timeless, and unforgettable. We have a very idealized view of them for sure, but you can't tell me any different about Gramma and Papa. Peg and Henry. Two peas in a pod.

I can still remember him spontaneously appearing at elementary school to pick us up and get ice cream. He has a wicked sweet tooth. He built a basketball hoop in his driveway so that Bryan and I could shoot baskets ... and he would join us. He taught us how to bowl, took us in his fishing boat (although I don't remember fishing much), and invited us into his workshop to help on numerous projects, from building balsa wood airplanes -- which flew -- to constructing a fuzzy robot that served guests drinks at his parties.

Henry is the man. My son has big shoes to fill.

I love you Papa ...