Remembering those lost to COVID-19
Atruck driver. A lawyer. An art teacher. A church ministry leader. A brain injury survivor. Black. White. Hispanic. Asian. Straight. Gay.
More than 340 residents of the Houston region have died of COVID-19 since it was first detected here in March. Some have passed away at home. Others have succumbed in hospitals, isolated from grieving relatives.
After a week when the wave of pandemic deaths surpassed 100,000 nationally, our losses may seem just a ripple. But behind every statistic lies the story of a life and all that comes with it — pain, pleasure, loss, resilience, love, endurance. These things are the matter of memories that families and friends will share and celebrate long after the funerals, when they can gather again at holiday dinners, backyard barbecues, weddings and graduations.
Some of those stories we have already told. Here we honor others like Edison “Tater” Hendrix Jr., remembered by his mom Shelia Hendrix, shown above, for his big heart. Their stories remind us that every life, even at its most
“ordinary,” is extraordinary.
EDISON ‘TATER’ HENDRIX JR., 33
Edison Hendrix Jr. knew how to make people laugh, even if that meant breaking into song and dance, as if he were on stage with a Motown group.
“He always (imitated) the Temptations,” said his sister, Tiffany Atkinson. “He would just do whatever it took for a laugh and he was not shy at all.”
Family members remembered Hendrix, 33, of Humble, who died April 17 after being diagnosed with COVID-19, as an upbeat person who liked to lighten the mood.
“I’m sad he’s gone but I want to remember him by the good times we had,” said his mother, Shelia Hendrix, 55, who survived her own bout with the new coronavirus. “And by his sense of humor.”
In addition to his mother and sister, Hendrix is survived by his fiancée, brother and several nephews and aunts. He recently had been living with his mother to save up for his wedding, planned for next year.
Family members described Hendrix, also known as “Tater,” as a big-hearted truck driver who earlier in life had encouraged friends to join the trucking industry in an effort to keep them off the street.
He helped inspire people to turn their lives around, Atkinson said.
“Everybody wasn’t dealt a decent hand like my brother,” Atkinson said. “They did different things in the streets to survive, and my brother was like, ‘You can still get money and do it the legal way.’”
Hendrix grew up in the Houston area. He worked hard from the moment he got a job, Atkinson said. When he decided to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a truck driver, he transported goods across the region. More recently, as a driver for Because of Christ Trucking, he remained closer to home.
He also was part of a car club. He loved to race his 2011 Chevy Camaro at a local track in his spare time, family members said.
Atkinson believes she caught the virus around the same time as her brother and mother, but she was never tested. She said they developed symptoms in late March after visits to a laundromat and a Livingston casino. Hendrix was hospitalized for several days in the Humble area after receiving the diagnosis. His illness was difficult for members of the close-knit family because they couldn’t all be together as his condition worsened.
His sister said she spoke to Hendrix on the phone about two hours before he died. She told him she loved him, and that she would call the next day.
“All my friends have lost someone they love,” Atkinson said. “I never thought in a million years that it would have been my brother.”
HILBERT NUÑEZ JR.
Hilbert Nuñez Jr. served most of his professional career in Harris County courtrooms as a bailiff, but he never looked down on defendants who shuffled in and out every day.
“He did what he could to keep people out of trouble and keep them from showing up in his courtroom again,” said his daughter, Dlisa Nuñez. “Even though he was just the bailiff, he would tell them, ‘Hey man, you don’t want to come back here. You don’t want to be spending time here.’”
She said her father carried an empathetic demeanor with him through 34 years at the Harris County Sheriff ’s Office. After his retirement in 2017, he got a chance to fulfill his longtime dream of traveling the world. But upon returning from a trip to Spain and Egypt in March, he developed symptoms consistent with COVID-19.
The 68-year-old was admitted to a Houstonarea hospital and, after testing positive for the new coronavirus, died April 11. Dlisa said the family did not expect his condition to deteriorate rapidly when he was first diagnosed. Aside from hearing problems, he did not have any other major health issues, she said.
“The hardest part was knowing that if he didn’t make it, he was going to be totally alone,” she said.
When Dlisa reflects on her father’s life, she remembers the weekend he taught her to ride a bike, and how years later he fawned over her first child. A family vacation to Moody Gardens in Galveston — a Christmas gift for all of his grandchildren — sticks out in her mind.
Hilbert grew up in Houston’s Denver Harbor neighborhood and later moved to the Cypress area.
He became a father of three, with Dlisa being the oldest. Six grandchildren eventually filled out his family, along with a greatgrandchild that he never got the chance to meet.
At the sheriff ’s office, he started as a patrol deputy in the late 1980s and later moved to the courts. He worked hard to get off the street at a time when the job became more dangerous, his daughter said. He took pride in his new position and enjoyed informally talking to defendants accused of anything from shoplifting to murder.
Hilbert spoke honestly and with compassion, she added.
“I believe that’s what he enjoyed — being able to help others,” Dlisa said.
Hilbert used his retirement to travel to overseas destinations such as
Japan and Panama. Dlisa believes both he and her stepmom caught the virus while returning from their last trip to Egypt, specifically during a layover at JFK Airport in New York City.
Services have been delayed because of the pandemic, Dlisa said.
“The hardest part, first, was not being able to go the hospital,” she said. “People don’t take it seriously that they die alone … and that once they are gone, you still can’t say goodbye.”