Henry Howard Simmons

Henry Howard “Hank” Simmons: Recollections from his Early Years Cousin “Hank,” as the Savannah cousins called him, grew up in Savannah, and like many from that city, he was quite a character. The eldest of six cousins from three sister mothers, Howard’s early years were spent among the Irish immigrant descendants who populated Savannah’s Old Fort neighborhood. As the oldest of his generation, he was in many ways a trailblazer, the first to finish college, first to drive, first to date, first to introduce us kids to basketball in Colonial Park, and, always, the first in the hearts of his younger cousins. Howard was fun, even if things did not always turn out the way he expected they would. He was always good for advice, even if that advice brought with it his own particular spin and some unexpected consequences. As the youngest of his girl cousins on his mom's side, I often was on the receiving end of this advice; like the time he advised me and my cousin Joann that he and his brother Robbie had found a “better way” to traverse the two blocks to Tybee beach from our grandmother’s beach house– a way that did not require finding those always-missing flip flops. Tybee roads in those days had just been repaved with black tar after decades of being only oyster shells and sand. Howard and Robbie would often set out to walk to the beach without shoes, only the tar would badly burn your feet after not too many steps. Once, caught mid-block, Howard told Robbie that all they had to do was walk on their hands for a while to get some much needed relief for their blistered feet. So, their walk to the beach continued apace with both brothers alternating between regular walking and handstands. Needless to say, they ended up with all 4 appendages in blisters rather than just their feet. The law of unintended consequences for sure, which landed Howard the nickname of “jughead Simmons” until the day he left for college. Howard relished his role as generational leader within the family, and he never forgot to care for and remember his extended family. Even as a young Second Lieutenant assigned to sea duty just off the coast of Vietnam in the 1960s, we were in his thoughts. While he could have spent the entirety of his modest paycheck on shore leave shenanigans, instead he spent money on gifts for his Savannah family.... porcelain China dolls for his mother and aunts, silk brocade for his girl cousins, and replica (or real, I never knew which) weapons for the boys. Us younger cousins stayed in awe of this generous world traveler, who also taught those of us like myself the value of travel and that you really could strike out on your own, away from the comforts and familiarity of that Savannah upbringing. Howard will be missed by those who knew and loved him. In keeping with the Irish traditions my family shared with this great cousin, we raise a glass now to his magnificent and meaningful life. In the words of a traditional Irish toast: “For Howard, Slainte, Death leaves a heartache no one can heal; Love leaves a memory no one can steal.”