Then Henry told me a story about his own experience trying to make a living while he was making his life. He took a job at a high end Italian men’s clothier in New York City. A friend ran the shop and offered him a sales position, but shortly thereafter Henry was pulled from the sales floor because he actually told customers his opinion, honestly. Convinced he couldn’t sell, his friend placed Henry behind the counter where he managed the schedule, handled transactions, and spent a good amount of his time penning lyrics in a pocket notebook.

One day John Lennon came in and tried on a suit. The salesman helping him had ducked into the back to speak to the tailor so John came out and asked Henry, “How do I look?” Henry looked John up and down and said, “I think you look like shit.” Just then Henry’s friend, the owner, comes tearing out of the back screaming. John Lennon smiled, looked at Henry and said, “I like you.” From that point John only bought suits from Henry. He would call occasionally and ask if Henry had anything for him, and Henry would give him an honest answer.

I found that to be true in my own time with Henry as well. When I turned out great work he would champion my effort and show me why it was good. And when I half-assed something Henry would look at me sternly and say, “Well you know that’s shit.” That’s what I always valued. I knew I could get an honest opinion. Henry would build you up or tear you down, but he never did so out of ego or his fear of my fragility. He did it because he genuinely cared about my growth and progress, just like he cared for all of his students. And it turns out he was right about me being smart enough to figure things out. For that I will always remember Henry with great respect and gratitude.

Thank you for caring Henry. Best wishes to your family and may you rest in peace.

Henry introduced me to Jim Anderson and I was hired to teach a semester of Music Business Entrepreneurship at the Clive Davis Dept. of Recorded Music.

I got a place on the upper East Side and spent 2-3 days a week in NYC and the rest of the week back in Boston at Berklee.

Henry often made me laugh so hard I thought my teeth would pop out of my head.

Henry, you were spot on, all the time. A powerful sense of being able to observe and truly SEE what was happening.

To all my former colleagues and students at NYU, my thoughts and prayers are with you all and with Henry and his family.

Love,
Mary