Eston Henson was so much more than our local plumber. He was our friend. When I heard of Eston’s passing, my heart broke. I truly loved this sweet kind man.
When my editors asked me to write this tribute, I was honored but wasn’t sure I could do his memory justice, nor could I do it without sobbing.
I met Eston in the early '80s when he worked for Mr. Pinion, the mountain’s former plumber. My husband, John, was out of town, and all the pipes in my house had frozen. I had two small children, and temperatures were below zero degrees outdoors. So many folks were in the same situation, so I didn’t’ really expect Mr. Pinion and his protégé Eston Henson to come, but they showed up late in the afternoon to save the day, wrapping my pipes in the freezing cold. I called John while they were here and told him I kissed both of them. He just laughed while Mr. Pinion and Eston blushed.
I even had the privilege of writing about he and Brenda’s wedding, when they both dressed up as Bonnie and Clyde, carried machine guns, and drove a vintage car- it was a hoot.
Eston learned from the best, moving on to help install the new sewer line and work for the late Jimmy Hedges’ log home community. Before too long, Eston became our residential plumber, always dependable, knowledgeable, and fair.
When I worked at The Mountain Fountain in the mid '90s, before it became Massey’s Kitchen, Eston was a regular. I started greeting him with, “Hello, handsome,” and it was our inside joke. I never called him anything but that. “I am here for a meal and a deal,” he always said. Owner Rhetta Yates gave him a discount.
Wherever Eston was, folks would come in and slap him on the back or shake his hand, always greeting their old friend.
As the years passed, his lunch “office” changed to the Handy Andy/Mapco, and the same thing happened there. He greeted friends and customers as he hung out at the ice cream cooler along with his sidekick Donnie Gibson. Eston had many partners during his career, but Donnie was a perfect fit. He, too, is a good guy, and Eston was more than a partner to him; he was like a father.
In the summer, many of us were lucky recipients of the homegrown tomatoes he was so proud of. Eston had an extensive garden that included over a 100 tomato plants, and it was his joy to share his bounty.
Eston was known for his unexpected kindnesses. He would take flowers to someone who was sick or just to make someone feel good. He would show up at your door for no other reason but to say hi. I remember vividly about three months after John died, I heard a knock on my door and Eston was there. Puzzled, I opened the door, said “Hello Handsome,” and was engulfed with a big hug because, “Darling, I thought you could use one today.” And then he left.
While Eston was sick and after he died, the responses on Facebook were overwhelming. People posted about him, calling him “a giant of a man,” “a wonderful man,” “a sweet loving man,” “a good person,” and more, all in the same vein. Mariah Spengler wrote, “He was so woven into the Lookout community as all of the comments are a testament to the amazing person he was and the impact he had on the community. You do not find that everywhere. We were blessed.” Daphne Haddad said, “I had a leaking toilet. He came and replaced the tank innards, and when I asked how much I owed him, he said, ‘Nothing. We try to do one free repair a week for people.’ There are not many people like him left in the world. God bless him!” Wendy and Ed Taliaferro said, “Eston’s best trait was his honesty. We all trusted him to come in our houses whether we were home or not.” He was one of a kind.
Eston was a true angel. I asked him a few years ago what his gift was. He responded, “I can fix your plumbing, but if I leave your house happier and make you feel better and smile, then I did a good job.”
Oh, Eston, my Handsome, you did so much more than that, you touched our hearts and became like family. We will miss you so, but you left this world a better place by being you! What a legacy you leave, truly a life well-lived.
by Gwin Tugman
When my editors asked me to write this tribute, I was honored but wasn’t sure I could do his memory justice, nor could I do it without sobbing.
I met Eston in the early '80s when he worked for Mr. Pinion, the mountain’s former plumber. My husband, John, was out of town, and all the pipes in my house had frozen. I had two small children, and temperatures were below zero degrees outdoors. So many folks were in the same situation, so I didn’t’ really expect Mr. Pinion and his protégé Eston Henson to come, but they showed up late in the afternoon to save the day, wrapping my pipes in the freezing cold. I called John while they were here and told him I kissed both of them. He just laughed while Mr. Pinion and Eston blushed.
I even had the privilege of writing about he and Brenda’s wedding, when they both dressed up as Bonnie and Clyde, carried machine guns, and drove a vintage car- it was a hoot.
Eston learned from the best, moving on to help install the new sewer line and work for the late Jimmy Hedges’ log home community. Before too long, Eston became our residential plumber, always dependable, knowledgeable, and fair.
When I worked at The Mountain Fountain in the mid '90s, before it became Massey’s Kitchen, Eston was a regular. I started greeting him with, “Hello, handsome,” and it was our inside joke. I never called him anything but that. “I am here for a meal and a deal,” he always said. Owner Rhetta Yates gave him a discount.
Wherever Eston was, folks would come in and slap him on the back or shake his hand, always greeting their old friend.
As the years passed, his lunch “office” changed to the Handy Andy/Mapco, and the same thing happened there. He greeted friends and customers as he hung out at the ice cream cooler along with his sidekick Donnie Gibson. Eston had many partners during his career, but Donnie was a perfect fit. He, too, is a good guy, and Eston was more than a partner to him; he was like a father.
In the summer, many of us were lucky recipients of the homegrown tomatoes he was so proud of. Eston had an extensive garden that included over a 100 tomato plants, and it was his joy to share his bounty.
Eston was known for his unexpected kindnesses. He would take flowers to someone who was sick or just to make someone feel good. He would show up at your door for no other reason but to say hi. I remember vividly about three months after John died, I heard a knock on my door and Eston was there. Puzzled, I opened the door, said “Hello Handsome,” and was engulfed with a big hug because, “Darling, I thought you could use one today.” And then he left.
While Eston was sick and after he died, the responses on Facebook were overwhelming. People posted about him, calling him “a giant of a man,” “a wonderful man,” “a sweet loving man,” “a good person,” and more, all in the same vein. Mariah Spengler wrote, “He was so woven into the Lookout community as all of the comments are a testament to the amazing person he was and the impact he had on the community. You do not find that everywhere. We were blessed.” Daphne Haddad said, “I had a leaking toilet. He came and replaced the tank innards, and when I asked how much I owed him, he said, ‘Nothing. We try to do one free repair a week for people.’ There are not many people like him left in the world. God bless him!” Wendy and Ed Taliaferro said, “Eston’s best trait was his honesty. We all trusted him to come in our houses whether we were home or not.” He was one of a kind.
Eston was a true angel. I asked him a few years ago what his gift was. He responded, “I can fix your plumbing, but if I leave your house happier and make you feel better and smile, then I did a good job.”
Oh, Eston, my Handsome, you did so much more than that, you touched our hearts and became like family. We will miss you so, but you left this world a better place by being you! What a legacy you leave, truly a life well-lived.
by Gwin Tugman
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