Harry Laster Obituary

Harry Laster (or Mr. Harry, as I know him), was a great person. A true American, he served our country by enlisting in the military for several years.



Perhaps even more importantly, he served his neighborhood for more than 50 years, doing the best he could to help his neighbors whenever possible. I have countless memories of Mr. Harry helping out in the neighborhood, from cleaning up trashcans, to caring for the neighborhood greenery, to raking leaves, to snowblowing driveways. When my older brothers and I were too young to perform these tasks, Harry would always show up to save the day. In later years, when my siblings and I were able to help out more in the neighborhood, Harry never hesitated to reward us with a little tip (against my mom's wishes). Believe me, there was no refusing him if he wanted to slip you a dollar.



Mr. Harry was a kind man and a devoted neighbor, loved by us all. I'm sure he's enjoying himself now.

Grandpa Laster is one of the greatest men I've been lucky enough to meet in my life. Having an opportunity to get to know him while dating and marrying his granddaughter is something that I will always cherish. Seeing the impact that he has had on the lives of so many is a testament to the wonderful life that he led. While each of us have lost an incredible companion, Heaven has gained an amazing man. God bless, and I love you grandpa.

Dear Mr. Harry,



I hope you like heaven. I will miss you. I'm sure Arthur would miss you too.



Love,

Ben

When I was growing up, the presence of Harry Laster (or just "Mr. Harry," as I always knew him) was a given. On the cul-de-sac where I live, he was a combination of mascot and king. I suppose living fifty years in one place can have that effect. In Mr. Harry’s case, though, it was richly deserved. His old-school values and code of behavior, combined with his constant presence mowing the grass, watering his garden, or giving his dog some exercise, made him a beloved fixture of life for everyone who knew him.



Mr. Harry’s kindness to me began before I can remember and continued until the day he died. The first bike I learned to ride was a gift from him. When my love for the Chicago Cubs grew deep enough to rival his, he began sending over his team newsletters every month. Very early on, I learned to look forward to trick-or-treating at Mr. Harry’s house, because it meant a special Zip-Loc bag with my name on it and a extra-large portion of treats inside. (Little did I expect that the Halloween treat tradition would continue well into my teens.) He was generous in other ways as well. After I discovered a passion for writing, he willingly spent an afternoon recounting his Army experiences to me for a high school project. I still have the tape of our interview, and I treasure it even more today.



As the years went by, Mr. Harry slowed down a bit, and we did what we could to help him out, shoveling snow or carrying trash cans. However, we never dared help in mowing his prized grass, because we knew we could never match his level of precision. To the end, his sense of humor remained fully intact. Our home phone still holds messages from Harry where he sings or makes fun of the answering machine’s robotic voice. Even on the last day I saw him, he was cracking jokes. And as the ambulance pulled away that afternoon, he smiled through the rear window and waved. It wasn’t a “good-bye” wave, though. It looked more like a “hi there.” It might even have been a “see you later.”



Mr. Harry was more than just a given in my life. He was God-given, as a neighbor, a friend, and a human being. Now that God has taken him back, I just hope he’s having a good time mowing the grass.

Harry Laster was a wonderful neighbor and friend. Known to my brothers and me as "Mr. Harry," he was an indelible part of my neighborhood and ever-present throughout my childhood. From his window, he and Mrs. Effie watched me learn to walk, ride a bike, and later drive a car around the Elliot cul-de-sac.



As I grew older, I realized what an incredible zest for life he truly had. Even when he was in his early eighties, he could be seen mowing his lawn every week or taking care of other menial tasks around his extremely well-kept yard. A die-hard Cubs fan, he often stopped to chat with me about the teams chances. I'm sure he's putting in the good word for them right now and I hope they can win it for him this year.



As a founding father of our cul-de-sac, it is difficult to imagine our neighborhood without Mr. Harry. He lived here for more than fifty years and helped plant the tree in the center of the circle. He always seemed to know exactly what was going on with neighborhood news and seemingly no house was put up for sale without his knowledge. I can't drive into the cul-de-sac without thinking about him. I'll miss sending him postcards when we go on vacation, helping him out around the house, or going over to his house to play with his dog Arthur and watch TV once in a while.



I know he's smiling down on Elliot Court right now, free of pain, rooting for the Cubbies and enjoying the benefits of someone who lived a full life and positively impacted so many others. Mr. Harry will never be forgotten.

My grandfather and I had an extremely close relationship. I loved our weekly conversations and calling him during the Cubs games. My grandfather made the best pancakes in the world. I have always known my grandfather to be a caring and very compassionate man. My grandfather was extreamly proud of his family. I will always remember how happy my grandfather was at my wedding. My grandfather always told me how proud of me he was and how much he loved me. I will miss him dearly. I love you grandpa. XOXOXO