Hubert Lewis Obituary

Hubert Griffith Lewis, Jr. September 7, 1942- May 9, 2024

NEW ORLEANS, LA - Let each remember him in their own way. Hubert Griffith Lewis, Jr., known as Hu, passed away peacefully in his New Orleans home on May 9, 2024 at the age of 81. A naval architect and Marine Engineer, he was born in Florence South Carolina, to Hope and Hugh Lewis. Preceding him in death are his son, Huey Lewis and his first wife, Amelia Lewis, both of Chicago, Illinois, and his sister, Rebecca Lewis Wuersh of Laurel, Mississippi. He is survived by his wife, Patia Lewis, daughter, Rebecca Winchell of New Orleans, brother, Andy Lewis of Chattanooga, Tennessee, as well as several grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces, and nephews.

Growing up in Kingsport, Tennessee, Hubert graduated from Dobyns-Bennett High School. He was the oldest of three children. His love for boats and passion for engineering led him to pursue studies in naval architecture, first at North Carolina State and later at the University of Michigan. He began his career with Bright Engineering in New Orleans before moving to Morgan City to work for Sewart Seacraft. Later, he settled in Lafayette, where he worked for Offshore Logistics, designing crew boats and ships that served in various capacities globally.

Hubert and his wife, Patia LaCour, split their time between Lafayette and New Orleans, enjoying weekends fishing, crabbing, camping, and gardening together. His professional journey reached its apex with the Navy in New Orleans, where he lent his expertise in design, planning, construction supervision, and sea trials for military craft.

Beyond his professional achievements, Hubert's legacy is marked by his dedication, creativity, and steadfast adherences to his principles. He leaves behind a family enriched by his love, spirit, and enduring impact, fondly remembered by all who were touched by his presence.

Crossing the Bar by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Sunset and evening star,

and one clear call for me!

And May there be no moaning of the bar,

when I put out to sea

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

too full for sound and foam,

when that which drew from out the boundless deep

turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,

and after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

when I embark;

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

when I have crossed the bar.