Tomorrow at 11:00 AM, friends will gather at the Meeting House in East Fairfield to celebrate the life of Perry Cooper, who passed away late last fall.

I’ll be there with my husband Mark, and so will many of our mutual friends from the Northwest Citizens for Responsible Growth.  It was at a meeting of the NWCRG that I first met Perry in 2004 when we gathered to strategize a response to Walmart’s proposal to site one of their big box blights on a field of prime agricultural soil on the outskirts of St. Albans.

In the years since, Perry had become a dear friend and frequent collaborator in the ongoing fight for a progressive and sustainable community.

Perry had also added a new dimension of scientific curiosity to my life as well as some valuable historic perspective on the role of non-civilian nuclear energy in the ’50’s and the 60’s.  He had a first hand knowledge of those formative years, from his work on nuclear submarines at Electric Boat.  His stories were true spell-binders.

He had a keen intellect combined with the spirit of a rebel.  For years he worked on his own wave theory, which he explained to me at some length.  Using language and illustrations, he made it surprisingly understandable even to a science amateur like me.  I hope his written memoir and the outline of his theory will find their way to people who will appreciate them.

Perry had a lot devoted friends, children and grandchildren, so I have every confidence that they will.

I know that music played a huge role in his life, but others are much better able to expound on that than I.  He was extremely kind to animals, demonstrating a whole lot more patience with them than he could ever spare for human fools. All of my house pets over the years have been fond of Perry.

He’d occasionally drop by my house unexpectedly when he was in St. Albans to visit a healthcare professional or just to do some shopping.  That was always a treat, and if it was a cold winter day, I was glad that I usually had some homemade soup on hand to warm him up as we passed a little time catching up.

We shared our politics, and could talk for hours on that subject. He was also an occasional contributor to Green Mountain Daily, where he used the handle “Witchcat” and occasionally locked horns with one writer or the other.  Even in white-hot argument, Perry managed to be pretty articulate. 

I am very grateful that, toward the end of Perry’s life, I was able to introduce him to nuclear safety experts, Arnie and Maggie Gundersen.  They came with me to visit him just days before he passed away and it was delightful to see how much Perry rallied to enjoy Arnie’s great appreciation of his first hand accounts of being a “cowboy” in the early days of nuclear energy wrangling.  They talked for a very long time; and when we left, Perry seemed as happy and animated as his old self.  I think this was the best parting gift I could have given him.

As we grow older and lose our dearest friends, one by one, it becomes  more and more difficult to fill the void that is left behind.

I doubt I will ever again have a friend quite like Perry.