Submitted photo Trustee Aaron Gingrich, scholarship recipients Wyatt Yoder and Gracen Haines, Susan Baker Nursing Scholarship recipient Jacob Bauman, scholarship recipients Riley Hine and Brendan Noerr, and trustee Marv Henry pose outside Mifflin County High School.

LEWISTOWN – Every August, at the Lewistown Country Club, as the sun is still yawning and the fairways are more fog than grass, an army of golf carts appears out of nowhere, each loaded down with enough drinks, stories, and third-hand swing tips to power the Ryder Cup.

But if you think this is your average charity scramble, you might as well try putting with a garden hose. This is the Justin Henry Scholarship Trust Golf Tournament, and around here, it’s bigger than a hole-in-one and longer-lasting than a double bogey.

You know you’re at something special when nobody can agree on the real score, but everybody remembers why they’re here. Old teammates reunite. Former classmates hug like linebackers. Neighbors swap stories.

At some point, somebody will inevitably misremember their best round by at least six shots. That’s fine. Nobody cares. Because for twenty years, this day has been less about the low round and more about high hopes. Every swing is a swing for Justin Henry, a young man whose legacy is measured in scholarships, not scorecards.

You want to know why this matters? Let’s rewind. In a county where your family tree is older than your driver, Justin Henry was the golden boy–quarterback, hoops captain, honor student, good neighbor, human sunshine in cleats. The kind of guy who made you want to be better, even if it was only to keep up. Then, at 27, lightning struck, literally. He was gone, and Lewistown lost its favorite son.

There are deaths that knock you flat, and there are deaths that make you want to build something so the world doesn’t forget. Justin’s was both. The tournament came together faster than you can three-putt a par five. No committees, no “let’s wait a year.” The pain was too sharp, the need too obvious.

“When Justin passed away on August 5, 2004, my dad, Marv (Henry), and I sat down and came up with the idea to put a scholarship trust together to benefit local student-athletes,” trustee Aaron Gingrich said.

The first year: two scholarships, $1,000 a pop. Fast forward: the Trust has handed out over $300,000 to local athletes and future nurses in the past 20 years. For a small town, those are power numbers. We’re talking Aaron Judge with a pen and checkbook.

“There have been many positive charity events over the years, but some don’t stand the test of time. That’s one of the things unique about the Justin Henry Scholarship Trust. To date, we have awarded over $300,000 in scholarship money, and this year will mark our 100th student-athlete recipient,” Gingrich said.

Now, here’s the plot twist: the big scholarships don’t just go to one group, they go to two boys and two girls, all seniors picked from a list of the county’s top 10 scholar-athletes, based on GPA and varsity letters.

“We decided, to narrow it down, you have to be top 10 in your class, boys and girls, and also letter in a varsity sport. We get the essays, see how they did, and look at need, if someone’s got ten other scholarships, that comes into play too. We’re trying to go after the best of the best,” Gingrich explained.

That’s right. Justin was the all-everything guy in boys’ sports, but the Trust made sure the spotlight shines on both sides of the scoreboard. And it works. It’s recognition every athlete dreams about, and it keeps the push for excellence going strong for everyone, no matter what uniform they wear.

And if you think the Trust stops there, you don’t know Lewistown. Enter the Susan Baker Memorial Award, named for a nurse and friend whose sons Justin coached. Now, each year, one senior planning to study nursing or to become a nurse practitioner receives support.

“After Susan Baker died in 2008, we added the Susan Baker Nursing Scholarship under the Justin Henry Scholarship Trust umbrella, which goes to deserving student-athletes pursuing a nursing career. Susan was an amazing nurse, but an even better person,” Gingrich said.

There’s even a “Dean’s List” bonus, If a past winner keeps their grades up in college, they get $300 for coffee, textbooks, or more likely, ramen noodles. It’s a way of saying, “Hey, we’re still watching. Don’t go soft on us now.”

This year, the spotlight hit four standout seniors–Wyatt Yoder, Gracen Haines, Riley Hine, and Brendan Noerr–each one proof that hard work and good grades can still get you somewhere. They walked away with the big scholarships, but you get the sense they’re the type who’d give a hand to the next kid in line.

And because Lewistown never forgets its helpers, the Susan Baker Nursing Scholarship went to Jacob Bauman, who’s headed off to do the kind of work that makes the rest of us look like we’re playing miniature golf. If you want to know what hope looks like in this town, it’s five names echoing across the banquet, and futures being built one check at a time.

“This year’s class of recipients is another stellar group of young men and women. I know all of them personally and have coached some of them. They are quality individuals and I know they’ll be successes in life. I encourage them to give back to the community and the younger generation–not just with words, but actions,” Gingrich said.

As for the golf? It’s a circus on grass–250 golfers, 60 teams, two shotgun starts, the first at 7:15 a.m., the second in the afternoon, and enough snacks to feed a minor league baseball team. The entry fee ($100 per golfer) covers everything but your pride: greens fees, cart, gifts, banquet, and enough laughs to last until next year.

Local businesses line up to sponsor holes, raffle tickets get passed around like breath mints, and if someone yanks a tee shot into the rough, it’s probably because they were having too much fun to aim. But the heart of the day is the banquet. That’s when the new $2,500 scholarship winners are introduced and cheered by the same folks who make it possible. It’s not only a ceremony. It’s a baton pass, except nobody drops it.

“The best part of the tournament is that it feels like a giant family reunion of all the people Justin has touched over the years. Players come back year after year, enjoying the tournament and all the fun, but also supporting the Trust to give scholarship money to great student-athletes and to honor Justin each year,” Gingrich said.

What’s changed after two decades? The faces at registration, there are more of them. The stories, more entwined. The need for scholarships, never less. But the philosophy remains: “It’s a sunny day.” That was Justin’s favorite saying. His family and friends have made it their motto, both for this tournament and for the “Sunny Day 5K” run held every June. Even when clouds threaten, the day almost always delivers, as if Justin himself is teeing up another patch of blue sky.

But does it matter? Really? In a world where most legacies last as long as your phone battery. Ask anyone who’s watched their daughter accept that scholarship. Or talk to a former winner now coaching, teaching, or treating patients back in town. Or just listen on tournament day–not to the swings, but to the chatter between shots: stories about Justin, about the town, about the time someone “accidentally” drove their cart into the wrong fairway. You want to understand what lasts in sports? It’s not the stats. It’s the staying power.

“Most of these kids now don’t even know who Justin was, but the Trust gives them a way to learn that hard work, compassion, sense of humor, and humility pay dividends. I think Justin would be proud to see that something very positive, something that affects young athletes’ lives, has come from all this,” Gingrich said.

At its best, sport offers ritual, chance, and a little redemption. That’s what the Justin Henry Scholarship Trust Golf Tournament provides–a chance for a community to remember, renew, and invest in its best self.

The swings fade, the scores are forgotten, but the meaning lingers. In Lewistown, they don’t measure August by the calendar, but by the sunlight that gathers on the first Friday, by the stories told on the green, and by the promise that every year, for at least one more round, it will be a sunny day.