Birth date: Mar 2, 1920 Death date: Feb 4, 2026
Henry was born in Audubon Iowa on March 2nd, 1920. He was the youngest of 12 Children of Henry &Lena Klever. He lived on the family farm until his father died in 1930. The family moved to town shortly after that. After graduating Read Obituary
Sorry to hear about Henry's passing. I'm not sure if I met Henry. Only a few years ago found out that my great uncle and I shared March 2 as our birthday. Was hoping to make a visit but life hasn't worked out.
Prayers to family, he sounded like a great man.
Hugs, Love & Prayers, Valerie Anderson (great niece)
My husband and I were privileged to have met Henry in August 2025 when we and my 92-year-old Mom were seated with him at a luncheon event at Carefield. He introduced himself as Hank and shared some of the stories of his life and career with us. We could have listened and talked with Hank all day, but we are grateful for those couple of hours with such a good man. We thanked him for his service to our country, for allowing us to ask him questions about his experiences, and for sharing his dining table with us.
A couple weeks later, my son and I were visiting my Mom and were fortunate to see Hank on his way to lunch. My son had been hearing from us about our time with Hank, so I was so happy to be able to introduce my son to Hank and shake the hand of such a good man.
My husband, mom and I have spoken of Hank often since we met him in August, and we know we will never forget him, his kindness, and his humility. That two-hour luncheon with your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had a very positive impact on our family, and we are forever grateful to have met such a great man. God bless you all.
To our Grandfather, our Pop. Thank you for every lesson, every laugh and every quiet moment of knowing. We will carry the truth of your story, your values and your love into every tomorrow. May we all live lives that honor the man you were.
Karen & Ulu
My Pop lived 106 beautiful years and in all that time, he loved deeply and lived fully.
He loved my Grandma Gayle with his whole heart. He was an amazing father to her, a devoted grandpa to my mom, Lisa, and the very best Pop I could have ever asked for. Generations of our family were shaped by his kindness, his quiet strength, and that unforgettable smile.
Growing up, our trips from Missouri to visit our California family meant everything to us. Those visits felt like stepping into a place filled with warmth, stories, and love. His home in Castro Valley was magical to me the shag carpets, the tiny trinkets, the photos of Bam and Pop, and the cellar stocked with his homemade jams made from fruit he grew himself. Everything about his home felt like him steady, comforting, and full of care.
One of my favorite memories is from when I was a teenager. We were at Aunt Karen’s house, all the generations gathered around the patio table. I walked in complaining about my terrible haircut, as dramatic teenagers do. Pop gave me a big hug and said, “Well, it looks pretty normal to me.” Just like that, I felt better. If a man who had lived through nearly a century, who had seen the world change in unimaginable ways, thought I looked just fine, then I was just fine.
I loved asking him about his childhood and the life he had lived. When the subject of war came up, he was quiet unless you caught him in the right mood. There was so much history in him, so much strength, and yet he carried it all with humility.
To live 106 years is extraordinary. But what made Pop truly special wasn’t just the length of his life, it was the love he gave during it. He made each of us feel safe, seen, and important.
We miss you deeply, Pop. Thank you for your stories, your hugs, your jams, your smile, and the legacy of love you leave behind. You were a good man and we are better because of you.
Well let me start that he was a great-grandfather to more then is listed here me, my sister, and brothers are part of his family who were blessed to call him Great-Grandpa or Pop. I would love to share some memories of him as we grew up with him and miss him dearly.
Our great-grandpa was truly one of a kind. A proud veteran, a storyteller, a pancake maker, and the heart of so many of our childhood memories. My sister, my brothers, and I would sit and listen to his war stories, wide eyed and quiet, holding onto every word. Those stories carried pieces of history, courage, and the strength that defined who he was.
He made us pancakes that somehow always tasted better at his table. His house felt like stepping into another time. Old cars outside. An old style charm inside. Pictures of “Bam,” his beloved wife, all around. Their love filled every corner. That house was more than a house. It was a time capsule, a place where the past was preserved and where we felt completely at home.
One of my favorite memories was exploring his house like it was an adventure. Especially the cellar, lined with jars of jam and canned goods. I remember crawling through the little door just to get there, feeling like I was discovering something magical. It was simple moments like that which made being with him unforgettable.
As we grew older, we did not get to see him as often. But when we were little, we saw him and the whole family a couple of times a year, and I always looked forward to it. Those visits meant everything. They still do.
He was a great man and an even greater great-grandpa. His home felt like home to all of us. His stories, his laughter, his quiet strength, and his love will stay with us forever.
I miss him dearly, more than words can say, but I am so grateful for the memories he gave us. They will live on, just like he will, in all of us.
