If every Little Leaguer gathered to bid farewell to this coach they came to know, this old downtown cemetery would have been filled from the nearby Lamon Street Park ball fields to the ball fields of Honeycutt Recreation Park.
Chris Morgan was one of those kids.
“On the field, he taught us fundamentals,” Morgan said. “He believed and saw the potential in us before we saw it in ourselves. His teaching stayed with us long after we left the ball fields.”
He was Sam Henrickson Jr., and those kids of yesteryear called him “Coach.”
Morgan’s mind drifted back to age 10 with the old Phillies youth baseball team at Honeycutt Park, and the coach in the yellow trademark hat that youngsters by the thousands would come to know.
“I said, ‘This is the coach I want to be my coach for the rest of my life,’” Morgan said. “He gave confidence and belonging to kids like me.”
‘Love at First Sight’
Sam Henrickson Jr. grew up in the little white house at the cul-de-sac along Willborough Avenue off Raeford Road. He was the oldest child born September 20, 1943, to Sam and Louise Henrickson. His father’s sudden death at age 15 thrust him into something of the family patriarch, where he would be there for his mother, a younger brother, and a little sister.
He was a son for a widowed mother to lean on. He was a brother for a younger brother and that little sister to look up to, depend on, and admire.
He was just out of Seventy-First High School in the spring of 1961, when his eye caught the pretty young teenager sitting on the side porch of her home with the white picket fence at the corner of Rush Road and Pinecrest Drive.
“Hey girl,” he hollered, “I’ll call you tonight.”
Kathy Goforth Henrickson remembers his confidence and wit and good looks.
“He was the best-looking guy, with blond hair,” she says. “Love at first sight.”
They married on October 1, 1961, at Hay Street United Methodist Church downtown, and never parted.
He was a self-assured groom.
She was an elegant bride coming down the aisle on father R.B. Goforth’s arm.
“Where you saw Sam, you saw Kathy,” the Rev. Sandy Saunders said on this sunny January 7 afternoon at Cross Creek Cemetery as a wife, his children, 16 grandchildren, 11 great-grandchildren, fellow coaches, and lifelong friends gathered to bid their goodbyes. “You saw Kathy, you saw Sam there.”
Their children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren became the joys of their lives.
‘Perfect Example of Soulmates’
“The greatest honor I have in life is sharing my grandfather’s life,” said grandson Sam Henrickson II, who was one of those Little League kids. “He was the toughest coach of all, but he was a coach with compassion.”
You didn’t have to be the best pitcher, the best infielder, or the best outfielder, or the most prolific batter at the plate. It didn’t matter if you were the best running back on the football field or the best athlete on the basketball court. What mattered most was how you played the games, respected your opponents, and gave every competition your best and nothing less than the best of yourself.
“He was always about working hard and having a work ethic,” he said. “If you told him he couldn’t do something, he’d make sure he could. Paw-Paw loved his yard and keeping it to perfection. He loved his Japanese maple trees. Maw-Maw was his girl, and the love of his life. They were a perfect example of soulmates.”
Where Sam Henrickson was, she was by his side. Where Kathy Goforth Henrickson was, Sam Henrickson was.
“She was always there with Sam,” Chris Morgan recalled his youth baseball days, and always with a hug for those kids playing the games.
‘Kathy, Let’s Go Piddle’
Sam Henrickson enjoyed his golf, and he knew the fundamentals of the swing and how to line up a putt on the greens. He liked raking leaves in the fall. He liked mowing his grass in the summers and edging the walkways. He enjoyed mornings over coffee with old friends to include the late Bob Cellner, the late Hector Black, and the late Eddie Stephenson at the Bordeaux Drug lunch counter. He liked remembering the good old days and “piddling” with whatever struck his fancy.
“Kathy,” he would beckon, “let’s go piddle.”
And how he loved coaching those kids in their games along life’s way.
“We’ll never know the number of kids he touched and influenced in his life,” the Rev. Saunders said on this day of farewell.
Diagnosed with cancer in late 2024, Sam Henrickson Jr. fought the disease, with his wife ever by his side until his final breath.
Sam Thomas Reid Henrickson died December 30.
He was 82.
“Kathy, you were his strength,” Saunders said. “You were his rock. Sam Henrickson today is dwelling in the house of the Lord. Help us, Lord, to cherish memories of a man who touched our lives through his commitment and his sacrifice.”
Epilogue
So many of us close our eyes—a wife, a son, daughters, a brother, a sister, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and lifelong friends—and we see him in our lives.
He was a presence.
“He’s no longer with us,” Chris Morgan, the Little Leaguer of long ago, said in remembering his old coach, “but his voice and his heart always will be a part of us.”
Bill Kirby Jr. can be reached at billkirby49@gmail.com or 910-624-1961.
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