In the last week, I have lost two very good friends who have left a lasting mark on the place all of us call home, and on me. Today, I’d like to offer a few thoughts about each of them.

Jerry Henderson and I met through our involvement in the local Sons of Confederate Veterans. His bloodlines ran through Tennessee and, somehow, he always was convinced he was connected to Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest through his blood. Jerry made many appearances dressed in his general’s uniform at Victorian Christmas. He would always kid about “Uncle Nathan” when discussions about our ancestors would start.

 In fact, Jerry would pretty much kid about just about anything. He was a certified stinker. I’ve got a folder on my computer solely dedicated to holding all of the jokes he emailed me over the 20 or so years. I always knew the emails were his because they always began with “Greetings, Professor!”

 Jerry was kind of a closet Democrat and, my goodness, some of the political discussions we had over those years were something to behold. Why? Because they would always devolve into a joke-telling session that centered around our favorite politicians. To this day, one of his Monica Lewinsky jokes ranks as one of the best jokes I’ve ever heard, though it definitely does not bear repeating on these family-oriented pages.

 And, to be sure, if his Florida Gators defeated my Georgia Bulldogs in football, I was sure to get an email within 10 minutes of the final gun reminding me of every painful detail as only he could frame them.

 Always a cat guy, seeing so many feral kitties running wild in downtown Thomasville drove him crazy. Jerry’s vision for a cat refuge was something he mulled over for many, many years as a result. Jerry and I spoke of it often and it was clear it was something he truly  wanted to do.

 He once and for all set his jaw and decided to do something about it and, with much savvy and work, his vision for the Miss Kitty Feline Sanctuary would become a reality.

 One thing about men like Jerry Henderson – once they truly set their minds and hearts toward doing something, you could just about be assured it was just a matter of time before that something became reality.

A lot of folks didn’t know that Jerry fought many maladies over the years, including I don’t know how many surgeries for Crohn’s disease, his constant nemesis. But never, ever did you hear Jerry whine or complain about any of it – as he would say, “There’s just too much living to do to get bogged down in complaining.”

 And then there was my good friend Lee Bailey. Lee was the recently retired superintendent of the Grady County schools, but I knew him best as an assistant principal and assistant superintendent (and my boss) in the Thomas County Schools before that. And even earlier, for many of you, he was your teacher in the Thomasville City schools.

 Lee was the Career, Technical & Agriculture Education director in Thomas County, and it was his vision that helped make the PREP Academy at Central a reality. He was always a “hands-on” guy, and he believed firmly that the hands-on education that could be garnered from programs like automobile technology, nursing, agriculture, business education, family and consumer science and, yes, even broadcast production would serve more young people more positively than most of the academic classes they might take.

 I’m always proud to say that our broadcasting program at Central is the best of its kind in Georgia and pretty much anywhere that I know of, and I know with absolute certainty that it would not be what it is without the influence of Lee Bailey.

 When we were designing our facility, Lee wanted it to be the kind of a place that other teachers across Georgia would want to visit and emulate. He insisted on inclusion of a full audio production studio, even though the curriculum for teaching it didn’t really exist.

“Heck, we’ll make our own curriculum and everybody can learn from us,” he’d smile, tickled with his dry sense of humor making such a prideful wisecrack.

 One of the things a lot of folks didn’t know about Lee was that he was a passionate musician. He loved playing the keyboard, and absolutely loved music. It was a passion we shared.

 Many late afternoons, I’d be walking out the door and I’d hear music coming from our audio production room that housed our synthesizer. I’d walk around to find Lee playing quietly to an audience of one.

 “Eh, I had a song in my mind I wanted to figure out,” he’d always say, which actually meant he just needed a little music therapy after a long day writing discipline referrals.

 He texted me a link to a “cool music video” he found Sunday at 11:40 pm. He passed away the next morning.

 I’ve been thinking about it since hearing the news of his passing this past Monday – I don’t know of another person who had such a positive, indelible impact on all three of our school systems. He loved education, he loved his friends and he loved his family.

Both of these men will be missed, but you can be assured that because of their legacy they will not be forgotten. I guess when you get right down to it, that’s about as high a compliment for a life well-lived as exists.

I know I was made a better man from knowing them both.