I did not have the good fortune to serve with Harry every day untill 1998 when he was the CO of MACG-38 and I was the AWC of the Wing.  I knew of him by reputation from his time and great work at VX-5 and the TSG. From afar, I respectedd and admired him, as did so many of us at MAWTS-1, VX-4, VX-5, VFA-125, and the then emerging Strike University, later to become Naval Strike and Air Warfare Center in Fallon.  We were doing things that still cannot be spoken of outside of a SCIF and Harry, Mini, Drifty, and a small ultra talented group were leading the way and facilitating it all.  There is a photo on this site of the three of them and Snapper, all of whom I know well.  There is more G2 in that one photo than in most large cities and they did more than we'll ever know for the country. There are many reasons that Harry was part of all that, he was just amazing at getting the right things done in the days we were fighting the Cold War.  

I was privleged to work directly with him when he and I were assigned to 3D MAW, me as the AWC and he as the MACG-38 CO.  In those days the Marine Aviation Command and Control System (MACCS) community was very unappreciated and little understood by many Marine aviators, even senior ones, and the vital role of the MACCS agencies and the system as a whole was generally undervalued and sub optimized in the Marine Corps and Joint world.  

One of the memories I have of Harry is how he went after the aviators to turn that around, to energize the community, lift the morale and feelings of belonging and contributing among not only his Marines and Sailors at MACG-38 but in the entire MACCS community.  And he did it as only he could, with his laser-like intellect that understood at an elemental level the most complex and intractable challenges, with his uncanny radar for understanding people, and patience and practiced wisdom steadily applied until really big things happened for the better.  

The Wing was very involved in Operation Southern Watch in Iraq at the time, we planned and executed named operations and Harry and his folks were front and center in it all, changing the way we thought and acted as Marine aviators, as a MACCS, MAGTF warfighters and Joint warfighters.  It created ways of thinking and operating that were transmitted to the future, making our accomplishments in Operation Iraqi Freedom possible and no doubt saved many, many young lives.

And there is more, Harry helped change his world for the better. 

Harry always did the right things, in the right ways, for the right reasons, professionally and personally.  He had an internal GPS for those things that was infallible, like a laser.  It's difficult to write or think about Harry without feeling incredibly sad that he is no longer with us, it is such a loss.  

Here's what I think Harry would tell us about life:

Do the right thing.  Do the right thing.  We don't always know exactly what that is, but we can figure it out.  Figure it out and then do it.

Follow the Golden Rule.

Always do your best.

Never give up.

That's how Harry lived his life.  I'll try harder to do the same.  God bless him and keep him. Shadow

Like many of you I have lots of good Harry stories.  One of my favorites is when Harry taught me to fly fish.  As many of you know, Harry loved the outdoors and fly fishing.  He loved its ruggedness, solitude and challenge.  When I traveled with him he often had his Fly Rod with the carry-on luggage even though our trip was fully booked with meetings and we were in suits.  I would joke with him and ask if he was hoping that when our plane “crashed,” it would be near some yet to be discovered world class trout stream.  He would just smile and say, “you never know,” and continue to board.  That was Harry; he never felt opportunity was far away even in the worst of situations. 

Later, I asked Harry if he would teach me to fly fish.  For the uninitiated, that was like asking if he would allow me to take the vows of the fly fishing priesthood.  Or maybe as an adult ask a Major Leaguer to teach you how to play catch.  After some persistence, he finally agreed and off we went to Bishop, CA.   We decided to go in the RV I owned at the time, and we spent hours on the road solving the world’s problems.  All of us who had that one on one time with Harry recognized that you were with someone special.  Not perfect, but someone rare among our friends.  It is those moments and the wisdom of those conversations that I will always remember.

We started to fish surrounded by quickly melting snowflakes most of the day, and caught enough for our supper.  We cooked them over an open fire and then as the temperature dropped with the approach of nightfall, others crawled into their tents. We retreated to the warmth of the RV.   Harry normally would have been one of those dedicated anglers who went to a tent because that was I think, one of the rules of the “priesthood.”   As I prepared some other food, and Harry was enjoying a glass while debriefing the days events, I could tell he was also enjoying the significant contrast to his normal fishing trip accommodations.  I joked with him again and said, I don’t think I have any white wine glasses for the fish.   Harry leaned back in the chair and smiled a smile I will never forget.  He said, you know Paul, I may never go camping again and just laughed.  Harry was fun.