Jim Cooper changed my life. I met him when I was 14 years old at Perk's Bluegrass. That was 47-and-a-half years ago. Jim came in the store wearing his police uniform one day. When Marilyn Perkins introduced him to me, he reached out to shake my hand. I shook his hand. Jim said, "You shake hands like a girl!" Then he proceeded to teach me about shaking hands. My father had died when I was 11. I had never had to shake hands before then. So I never knew how. Jim saved me from a life of embarrassment and wimpiness.
I enjoyed knowing Jim and watching him play in the Bluegrass Ordeal and then Sawgrass throughout my teenage years and as a young adult. His stage presence was amazing. He didn't have to talk a lot. His body language said much. He always looked like he was confident and he was where he wanted to be.
Hanging around Jim was a great place to pick up on little bits of wisdom here and there. I loved jamming with him. He was always encouraging and always the relaxed and wise sage.
Jim had talked about being a guitar player in the Tampa Police Band back in the good ole days. One day I found an LP record of the Tampa Police band at a garage sale. Sure enough, there was Jim on the back cover, with a guitar, along with 20 or so other policemen. I bought that record, of course, and kept it a long time until I eventually gave it to Jim at his 90th birthday party.
Eventually, I ended up playing in the same band with Jim. Actually, I filled in with Sawgrass once, that was a lot of fun. But then Jim was in the Foothill band with me for a few years in the early 2000s. He was a pleasure to be around. Always had something to say, though sometimes you could barely hear it. Though he was always encouraging, he was not always complimentary. Jim told the truth. I especially appreciate that about him. Jim loved people enough to tell them what they needed to hear, not what they wanted to hear. Thank God for Jim Cooper!
Thankfully, I was near enough to him to hear lots of wisdom over the years. Jim's comments were not always "politically correct", but they always hit the nail on the head.
At the Sertoma Ranch, where we were playing, I had brought a date with me. Jim was impressed. He whispered to me that I "should keep her." I did. That was twenty years ago now.
I love Jim Cooper. May he rest in peace.