Gregory Louis Panzino
1959 – 2025

Some souls are built from the earth itself — carved by wind, softened by water, shaped by fire, and rooted in the sky. Gregory Louis Panzino was one of those rare and beautiful souls — a man of nature, of art, of food, of strength, and above all else, of love.

Greg's final sunrise on this earth came peacefully on June 10, 2025, at the home he built and cherished in Reno, Texas. He was 65. His beloved wife, Jennifer "Jenne" Holbert Panzino, was by his side — just as she had been every step of their shared journey. Their time together was not long by the measure of calendars, but love does not keep time. What they had was real, and it was deep. As Jenne has said with quiet certainty, he was the love of her life — and she was his.

Born in Columbus, Ohio in 1959 to Betty Cornish and Louis Panzino, Greg's life began in a home of bold values and humble roots. His mother gifted him with wonder — an affection for trees, stones, rivers, and skies. His father, and the men who came before him, passed down pride in Italian heritage and a deep reverence for service. Both his father and uncle flew B-52 bombers. Greg grew up with the weight and dignity of a military legacy — and when his time came, he honored it.

After graduating from Southwest High School in Fort Worth, Texas — where he gathered lifelong friends — Greg enlisted in the United States Air Force, serving with honor. After his service, he wore many hats: firefighter, EMT, protector, responder — each role chosen from a place of purpose. But it was his 40-year career as a Bridge Inspector Specialist with the Texas Department of Transportation that became his true professional home. To him, it was more than a job; it was a second family, a craft, and a source of great pride.

Greg lived life like a landscape — wide, open, and full of beauty. The farm he shared with Jenne was his sanctuary: acres scattered with ancient oak trees, sunrises that painted the sky in every shade of fire, and a pond where he found stillness, cast lines, and whispered to the breeze. He poured his soul into the land. It gave back.

Together, Greg and Jenne shared not just a home, but a world they made with their own hands. They wandered wild trails, built projects side by side, hiked, biked, fished, explored new beaches, and savored the kind of mornings that most people rush through. They sipped coffee from the swing in the yard, as the sky opened above them and birds stitched songs through the dawn. Their love was quiet and brave. It was real. And it never once asked to be proven — only shared.

Greg's greatest legacy is the love he gave. As a father, he shared the natural world with his two sons, Gregory Jr. and Austin, guiding them through forests, teaching them the names of rocks, skipping stones across lakes, and carving memories into every trail they walked. Gregory Jr., especially, inherited his father's fascination with rocks — a bond that was theirs alone. In his later years, Greg delighted in teaching his granddaughter, Jemma, how to play chess — a quiet joy he loved to share.

He loved fiercely and gave fully.

Greg was preceded in death by his mother, Betty Cornish; his father, Louis Panzino; and his late wife, Misty Panzino.

He is survived by his devoted wife, Jennifer "Jenne" Holbert Panzino; his sons, Gregory Panzino Jr. and Austin Panzino; his grandchildren, Jemma Panzino and Jett Panzino; his sister, Lisa Cox; his nephew, Justin Hart; his niece, Jessica Hart; his stepdaughter, Shelby Mey; and more friends than could ever be counted — the kind of friends who feel more like kin.

A celebration of Greg's extraordinary life will be held under the sky he loved, at 8475 Peden Road, Azle, Texas, on Saturday, July 26, 2025, from 8:00 AM to 11:00 AM.  Coffee and a light breakfast will be served — because Greg believed mornings were sacred.

If love could have kept him here, he'd have lived forever.
And if time were measured in joy, wonder, and devotion —
then Greg Panzino lived a thousand lifetimes.

As he once said, with a smile that belonged only to Jenne:
"We go together like cookies and milk."