ENCINITAS, Calif. — Lee Henry, 96, died peacefully in his sleep in the early morning of Saturday, April 24, 2010, at Olivenhain Guest Home, Encinitas, Calif.

He was born in Norwalk, Conn., in 1914, son of John and Amy (Lawrence) Henry, and lived there until 1931 when at age 17 he entered Amherst College. After graduation from Amherst, he earned his master’s degree in education at the University of New Hampshire in 1936.

He was invited to teach at Proctor Academy in Andover, where he taught until 1942 when he joined the U.S. Army, then was active in World War II. Most of his work was in France, Belgium, and Germany, and as that war ended, he was shipped to the Philippines to prepare for the invasion of Japan.

In 1945, he returned to Andover to resume teaching at Proctor. In that year, he married Priscilla (Glazier) Camp, and in 1947, was invited to teach at Plymouth State College. In Plymouth, he taught French and Spanish until 1956, when he was asked to teach at Hawken school in Gates Mills, Ohio. He taught at Hawken until 1978, when he retired and moved to Peterborough, where he and Priscilla settled in Governor Square.

Their interests during retirement took them to trips across the United States and Canada, Central America, Europe, and Africa, and even to the Middle East where Susan was working in the American School Abroad in Isfahan, Iran.

Priscilla died in 1996, and Lee had been reading mystical books, enjoying discussion groups, and playing the clarinet, saxophone and recorders.

He is survived by his one remaining sister, Mildred Tolles of Norwalk, Conn., and his children, Susan (Camp) Snider of Cleveland Heights, Ohio, John Henry of Encinitas, and David Henry of Cleveland Heights.

Rarely did Lee talk about sailing his boat in Long Island Sound, or being Cub Scout master in Plymouth, flying the Cessna with Priscilla, or vacationing in Kauai. He was more apt to say, “The whole caper is change. Enjoy it!”

In 2006, Lee moved from Concord to the San Diego, Calif., area, where he enjoyed a warmer, sunnier climate, just a few miles from his son.

On his 96th birthday, just three weeks before his passing, he laughed and sang with friends and family, and even danced with one of his loving caregivers. And not to be denied a last chance to let flow the music that was his soul’s very core, Lee sang “Besa me Mucho” (on his last day) into a Karaoke microphone, to the enjoyment of all his new friends at Olivenhain Guest Home, and of course, not without that ever-present sparkle in his eyes.