Henry Brown Mobley

Henry Brown Mobley, M.D.

Henry was born in the early years of the Great Depression in Dallas, TX on July 23, 1930 to Stephen Decatur Mobley, II and Robbie (a.k.a. Roberta, Bobbie, Munna, Grandmother, Granny, or Gigi) Baker. He was the second of two sons who dearly loved his brother, Stephen Decatur Mobley, III who preceded him in death by 18 years. Their father died of pneumonia at the young age of thirty-nine when Steve was twelve and Henry was eight. Their father had a deep love of hunting, which he passed on to both of his boys. In their youth, Henry and Steve hunted rabbits in the countryside at what is now the intersection of Central Expressway and Mockingbird Lane. Their mother never remarried and the three of them survived many difficult times together. For a while, they were residents of the Fowler Home for Widows and Orphans in Dallas, which required that mothers and children stay in separate residential locations, allowing only Sunday visitation.

The brothers worked to help support themselves from a young age, and eventually Steve became an Orthodontist and Henry a Medical Doctor. At the age of sixteen, Henry was stricken with Polio and spent six weeks hospitalized at Baylor Hospital of Dallas with tube feedings because of paralysis of the muscles necessary for swallowing. During his child and young adult years he became an accomplished pianist and especially enjoyed playing music from the Big Band Swing Era. Playing the piano was strongly therapeutic in helping him recover from residual left arm weakness due to Polio.

Henry was a member of the Class of the 1947 Bulldogs of North Dallas High School where he was a Colonel and the Regimental Commander of the JROTC. He graduated at the age of sixteen. He then attended the University of Texas at Austin, where he was a member of the Delta Tau Delta fraternity and the Phi Beta Kappa Honor Society. He graduated after only three years, which meant that he had completed both High School and college in only six years. He then earned a Doctor of Medicine degree from Southwestern in Dallas in 1954. On October 23, 1953 during his fourth year of medical school he married the love of his life, Vivian Dolores Meadows. They were married at Sacred Heart Cathedral (now called the Cathedral Shrine of the Virgin of Guadalupe) in Dallas on a Friday afternoon before traveling to honeymoon in Fort Worth, since he had to be back at work on Monday morning. In October 2018, they celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary.

After medical school he enlisted as a Captain in the United States Army and he and Vivian moved to Salt Lake City to await his assignment. While there, Vivian gave birth to their first child, Henry Brown, Jr. After one year of residency training in Anesthesiology in Salt Lake City, Henry was sent to La Rochelle, France while Vivian awaited her travel documents. Vivian went to Dallas to live with his mother and to give birth to their second child, Roxanne Marie. After seven weeks, Vivian and the two children joined Henry in La Rochelle, France where they lived for over two years. While in France, Vivian gave birth to their third child, Teresa Catherine. On the weekend of the delivery the only other available physician on the military base was a Psychiatrist and there was only one nurse on duty, so Henry delivered his daughter while Vivian self-administered her own anesthesia. He then returned to his hometown of Dallas to start an Internal Medicine residency at the VA Hospital. It is here that David Charles and Mary Martha became the final additions to the family.

In 1961, he opened a private practice in Downtown Dallas in the Medical Arts Building. While building his practice he worked one day per week performing physical exams at the Eastman Kodak Company to help pay the bills. In 1972, he moved his practice to Presbyterian Hospital of Dallas, where one of his duties was to instruct Internal Medicine Residents from Southwestern Medical School. He “retired” in 1992 and then worked as a consultant for the Office of Workers' Compensation Programs reviewing medical charts, where he worked for another 23 years before retiring at the age of eighty-five.

All his life, Henry had a love for adventure and faraway places. His imagination knew no bounds and brought joy to himself and those around him. He read voraciously and was educated in subjects as diverse as world history, culture, anthropology, physics, chemistry, geology, biology, mathematics, and astronomy. He also loved the arts, including architecture, painting, literature, music, performing arts and film. As a boy, he dreamed of being a knight in King Arthur’s Court or a Native American riding bareback across the Great Plains. As an adult he was able to fulfill some of his childhood dreams by traveling to England, Scotland, Paris, Rome, Jerusalem, Iran and more. He pursued his love of hunting and several times a year took his boys with him. At the age of 68, he took up the game of golf, which he played weekly until eight months beyond his 88th birthday. But one of the greatest adventures of his life came in the form of his Nickell grandchildren Kelly, Matthew and Jennifer; his Mobley grandchildren Rachel, William and Andrew; his grand niece Susannah Turner; and most recently his great granddaughter, Eden and her as yet unborn brother.

Henry Mobley was first and last a man of faith. He was raised a Southern Baptist, and converted to Catholicism at the age of twenty-three. As a teenager, he received spiritual guidance from Arthur Hughes, who later became a priest. His family remembers seeing him kneeling at his bedside both morning and night with his face in his hands, praying to his heavenly Father. He also was frequently seen reading scripture at night in his bed. The family always prayed before meals and never missed Mass, whether at home or on vacation. His devotion to God was lived out every day in the way he treated his fellow man. He was an active member of Holy Trinity Parish since 1963.

But who, really, was Henry Mobley. If you only knew him from this brief summary of the events of his life, you would know nothing of the man that was so deeply loved by family and friends alike. Henry never allowed the story to be about him. It was always about you. Whether he laughed heartily with you, teased you or sternly gave well-deserved reprimand, you felt as if you were the center of his world. His memory was uncanny. He noticed everything and remembered everything about you. He always looked out for those around him who were in need, whether physical, spiritual or financial. And he did so quietly, without announcement or fanfare. In sharing with you some stories of his generosity and love of neighbor, there is no worry of depriving him of his heavenly reward, because for every one of his known actions there surely were dozens known only to God. We love you, Henry. We love you, Dad. We’ll see you soon.