"ODE TO NEIL HENDERSON"

Neil Henderson, beloved husband of 55 years to Jean, nee McGuigan; loving father of Linda (Donald) Obrochta and Diane (Thomas) Malinowski; cherished grandfather of Julie and Kyle Obrochta, Liane and Alexander Malinowski and the late Glen Obrochta; dear brother of Laddie (Moira) Henderson and the late Alan Henderson; loving son of the late Donald and the late Hilda, nee Lowry; and many loving nieces, nephews and friends. He was a retired 31 year employee of GT&E as a senior staff engineer. He was born May, 18, 1923 in Scotland, and was a WWII veteran for five years as Sergeant of the British Army. As a prolific artist, writer and Scottish Bard, Neil was a member and past president of the Elgin Scottish Society, he was a member of the Robert Burns Federation of Scotland and the Robert Burns Club of Milwaukee, the St. Andrew's Society of Illinois, past Bard and member of Clan Henderson, past pres. of the Elk Grove Artist Assoc., and he was the Northwest Cultural Council Poetry Award Winner for the year 2004. Visitation is from 3 to 9 p.m. on Sunday, at Grove Memorial Chapel, 1199 Arlington Heights Rd., Elk Grove Village. Funeral Mass 10 a.m. Monday, at Queen of the Rosary Church. Interment St. Michael Cemetery.
847-640-0566.

Published in the Chicago Tribune on 7/24/2005.

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ODE TO NEIL HENDERSON

By: John Robert Mallernee,
Bard of CLAN HENDERSON

There's a man I never met
Who was born in Scotland yet.
In Glasgow, he was born,
Where Henderson kilt was worn.
A sergeant, he would be,
In the Queen's Royal Army.
A Scottish warrior poet,
This man I never met.
I don't know a lot,
But, I've heard he was a Scot.
That's enough for me,
With his Henderson history.
An American, he became,
And Chicago knew his name.
He was my cousin's friend.
But, now he's met his end.
He was our great clan's bard,
And to follow him is hard.
So I'll try the best I can
To honor that great man,
A Gaelic warrior poet,
This man I never met.
To a lone bagpiper's skirl,
A Hielander leaves this world.
Just as we live, we die,
And through the Heavens fly,
Where Hendersons await
To meet us at the gate,
And hail our warrior poet,
This bard I never met.
Hendersons to God appeal,
"Welcome home our clansman, Neil!"