Henry F. Sterba

Henry F. Sterba

November 25, 1932 – February 17, 2025

Henry was born in Omaha and grew up in Brown Park in South Omaha. Henry attended South High School for one year until moving to Milwaukee, WI with his parents and attended Shorewood High School for a few years. His family then moved back to Omaha where he graduated from South High in 1951. He played hockey, basketball, and baseball. He met his future love of his life, Earlene while at South High and married her on Jan 2, 1952. Later that month, he enlisted in the Coast Guard and was stationed in Norfolk, VA.  After his discharge, he moved to Ft. Wayne IN and obtained a degree in electrical engineering at Indiana Tech through the GI bill. Hank and Earlene moved to San Diego, CA in 1957 where he worked for Burton Electronics and Convair.

Shortly after, he got a job at Mc Donnell Douglas in Huntington Beach, CA where he worked on nuclear rockets.  He was a great little league coach for Hank Jr and Al and Mark Wilkins. The family moved back to Omaha and worked for GHDR for many years. He then signed on with OPPD and ended up heading up the Public Relations department. He travelled all over the country to attend business meetings.  After retirement from OPPD, he got a job with Echo Electric Supply and worked well into his late 80’s. He loved that part time job. Went in from 8-12 and then hit the links nearly daily. He was a member of Oak Hills Country Club since the early 70’s and walked the course daily through his 80s. Golf was the great love of his life.  Bowling was another passion of his.  Every Wednesday night he bowled with his buddies at Chops.

He loved Husker football, Creighton basketball, and his beloved LA Dodgers!

He is survived by his wife, Earlene; children: Hank Sterba, Jr. (Jodeen), Jody Sterba, Christopher Sterba (Gabrielle VanHouten); grandchildren, Evan and Natalie; brother, Ron; many other loving family members.

Visitation: Tuesday, February 25^th, from 5-7pm at West Center Chapel with a Vigil Service at 6pm.

Mass of Christian Burial: Wednesday, February 26^th, 10:30am at St. Robert Bellarmine Catholic Church.

Interment: Calvary with full military honors.

Memorials are suggested to the Alzheimer’s Association.

Heafey-Hoffmann-Dworak-Cutler, West Center Chapel, 7805 West Center Road, Omaha, Ne 68124. (402)-391-3900. www.heafeyheafey.com

IN MEMORIAM:  Henry “Hank” Sterba (1932-2025)

The Wilkins family and the Sterba family were lifelong friends from early on.  My dad (Alan H. Wilkins) enlisted in the Navy ~age 17, and Henry served in the Coast Guard.  With the help of the GI Bill, they both became Engineering majors at Indiana Tech, graduating in the summer of 1957 (low-res photos from their Kekiongan yearbook to follow).  Both of them married young and their wives were pregnant simultaneously, with “Little Hank” and me born only a month apart in 1955.  Both dad and Henry worked odd jobs while in school to support their families.

Both families moved from Fort Wayne, Indiana to Southern California in 1957, settling in the San Diego area initially and then moving north as job opportunities arose.  We settled in Huntington Beach, while the Sterba’s were initially in the Rolling Hills area around Palos Verdes.  Despite the distance, we visited them frequently, and our moms would drop us off to fish, go to movies or race slot cars while they are suntanned and then would pick us up later.  Eventually, the Sterba’s moved to Standish Lane in Huntington Beach and Henry became involved in the Man Orbiting Laboratory (MOL) program (introduced in December 1963), while my dad was involved in the Delta Program there at McDonnell Douglas.  That’s when the real fun began.

My brother Mark and I would get together with Hank, Jody & Chris on Wednesday nights to watch our favorite program “Lost in Space (which ran from 1965-1968)” after which we would play a hockey game we devised in the hallway, while the folks played bridge.  Henry and my dad worked on the Robinwood Little League field on weekends, and both of them managed and coached our teams, through Pony League (see 1968 photo—me and “Little Hank” are the shrimps in front).  The lucite-framed photo of my mom and dad with Earlene and Henry before a night on the town is a quintessential late-60’s shot, and one of the all-time favorite shots for Mark and I; what a handsome bunch they were back then!  Unfortunately, the MOL program folded in June 1969, and the Sterba’s moved to Omaha shortly thereafter.

In June 1978, though, I was admitted to Creighton University School of Medicine (thanks in part to Butch Kozeny) and I did very well there, though med school requires long hours and a huge amount of dedication, and bonds with friends outside of school are essential.  Without the Sterba’s in West Omaha, I doubt that I would’ve stayed the whole four years there and may have chosen to move back home and find another line of work.  Hank and Earlene became my de facto parents-away-from-home.  My favorite times there were the Friday nights when I didn’t have a big exam on Monday, and I could get in my AMC Matador and head for 1121 Skylark Lane.  We could watch great TV down in the basement; the Friday night CBS line-up included “Dallas,” followed by “Knot’s Landing.”  I remember watching a lot of “Cheers” episodes down there when I would visit in subsequent years.  One night was particularly memorable: I had already accepted their invitation for a Friday night visit earlier in the week.  That night was bitterly cold and windy, with a published wind chill of -69 degrees.  I had an ivy plant in my basement apartment that wasn’t doing well, and Earlene had a reputation for being very good with plants.  I loaded the plant into my back seat.  I had to stop to get gas on the way, which prolonged the trip a bit.  Anyway, when I got to the Sterba house, my plant was DOA, and I was bitterly cold.  I went down to the basement, where a welcome fire was burning.  I took off my boots (“waffle-stompers”) and dropped them on the hearth.  They were so cold that the soles on both shoes split wide-open, and I was never able to wear them again.  Nights like that, the icy roads, and having to scrape my windshield on snowy mornings are what make Midwesterners a tougher lot than us Californians.

Another highlight of my time in Omaha were trips to Lincoln to see Big Red play; I had never witnessed such a spectacle before.  We would get picked up in a van at the Sterba’s at 10:15 am, go buy some KFC chicken, then continue to a motel outside the stadium to feast on an unimaginable selection of food and drink set out by the Sterba-Kozeny clan on tables in the motel parking lot.  After we had our fill, we would walk into the stadium for the 2 pm kick-offs.  Back then, Tom Osborne was the Nebraska coach, and our arch-rival was Oklahoma, coached by Barry Switzer; those games were the best.

My dad and Henry were lifelong friends, prior to my dad’s passing on 2/20/23.  They worked on cars and drank beer together in our Pleasant Circle garage at night.  Henry had his head over the engine one night when Dad hit the ignition, and some sparks singed the hair over Henry’s forehead.  When he came to bed that night, Earlene smelled the singed hair and didn’t want him to lay down beside her.  My dad would often say, “Henry doesn’t screw up very often, but when he does, it’s epic.”  Case in point: he decided he would burn his Christmas tree in the fireplace after the holiday season had concluded one year, rather than cutting it up for the trash collector.  I wasn’t there, but rumor has it that flames were shooting dozens of feet in the air from the chimney outside, and it sounded like a jet was taking off.  The Omaha Fire Department responded, and I don’t think there were any long-term sequelae, just a valuable lesson learned.

Henry was the biggest sports fan I’ve ever known, especially for baseball, Creighton basketball & Cornhusker football.  He was an accomplished bowler and golfer, and he played with me on my best round (2-under with an eagle after 8 holes at Meadowlark G.C. in Huntington Beach) and my bad rounds in Omaha, which were numerous, but he never lost his patience with me.  He was a dedicated father, a doting grandfather, a fun-loving cousin, a super-supportive husband and a great son, especially to Josie in her later years.

My wife and I married in 1988, and Hank and Earlene attended.  I remember watching the classic O.J. Simpson car chase in the white Ford Bronco with Hank and Earlene, Lynn and my folks in our first Coto de Caza house, never dreaming that he would subsequently be exonerated.  Lynn and I have tried to return to Omaha for Creighton University School of Medicine Class of 1982’s every-5-year reunions, but those have been suspended since the COVID outbreak.

Long story short, the Sterba’s have always been the best friends that a family could hope for.  My dad, Henry and their mutual friend, Bob Morin are my three favorite men of their generation.  They’re all gone now, but I will love them, and miss them, forever.  I hope they can all reunite soon for a poker game in Heaven.                            —Al Wilkins