Longtime Tucson, Arizona resident Henry Theodore “Hank” Eyrich, 72, passed away Tuesday, Aug. 30, 2016, in Brown County, Indiana, from complications of Alzheimer’s disease and lymphatic cancer.
Hank will be remembered for his generosity; love of animals, fishing, the U.A. Wildcats and music; a dry sense of humor; fondness for Budweiser and PB & J sandwiches; and unwavering stubbornness.
He was predeceased by his parents, Fred and Fleta; daughter, Jennifer; wife, Mary Lu; sisters, Lucille Gray (Russ), LaVonna Morrison (Frank), Nancy Clinkinbeard (Bill); brothers, Joe Eyrich and Robert Eyrich; and beloved dogs, Linus, Satchel and Abby.
He is survived by daughter, Heidi Lee Duncan (Devin) of Morgantown; sister-in-law, Bonnie Eyrich; numerous nieces and nephews; and former wife/forever friend, Jaime Gaskin of Santa Fe, New Mexico.
Born Dec. 5, 1933, in Potlatch, Idaho, to Fred and Fleta (Craven) Eyrich, he graduated from Potlatch High School with honors and went on to earn a bachelor’s degree at the University of Idaho. He served in the Navy and went on to earn his doctorate degree in geology at Washington State University.
Dr. Eyrich went on to work in hard rock exploration/mining geology in Washington, Arizona and Minnesota. He did a stint as president of the Northwest Mining Association. He went to work as an exploration geologist and vice president of Continental Materials Corporation and eventually moved into environmental issues at Pima Association of Governments in Tucson. Hank served as an officer in the Arizona Geological Society and published several scientific articles in economic geology quarterlies. After retiring, he taught as a geology professor at Pima Community College from 2003 to 2006.
Hank did not want any services, but remembrances with donations to a humane society in your area or the Alzheimer’s Foundation would be appreciated.
Arrangements have been entrusted to Meredith-Clark Funeral Home Cremation & Personalization Center in Morgantown.
“Time it was and what a time it was, it was … a time of innocence, a time of confidences. Long ago it must be, I have a photograph; preserve your memories, they’re all that’s left you.” — Simon and Garfunkel, “Bookends,” 1968.