05/15/2026
Some lives continue speaking long after they end.
Yesterday, I had the privilege of leading a celebration of life for Harry — believed to be the world’s oldest instrument maker — who died at the age of 102.
After a successful career as a professional musician, Harry turned his remarkable talent toward handcrafting replica baroque oboes. His instruments found their way into the hands of acclaimed musicians around the world, each one carefully shaped, tuned, and finished by hand. Even at 102, he was still fulfilling orders from his workshop in his home.
Today’s gathering was a quiet and deeply personal one — just his wife of 67 years, his daughter, son-in-law, and grandson — ahead of a larger celebration still to come.
We sat together in his home, surrounded by the things he loved most. We shared stories, listened to his music, and simply held space to reflect on all that he was, and all that he leaves behind.
One of the things I love most about this work is the way it quietly connects me to lives I would never otherwise have known. Not just names and dates, but the stories threaded through them — the passions people devote themselves to, the things they build slowly over decades, the marks they leave in places they may never even see.
Harry’s story is one of craftsmanship, discipline, artistry, and extraordinary longevity.
And somewhere, in concert halls and rehearsal rooms across the world, his work will continue to be heard.