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 FAREWELL TO A FRIEND, PAUL PERRY 

AUG. 28, 1941-FEB. 2,2007

 Every so often, we meet a unique individual. Someone that we never forget, someone that has made an impression on our lives. Our chapter lost one of these unique people and his absence will be felt for a long time to come. Paul Perry lost his final battle and we have lost a veteran who fought for our country and a devoted member who fought for our club. An Army veteran, Paul was retired, after 30 years with Dayton Malleable Iron and Ironton Iron as a shipping clerk. He was a life member of both VFW Post 8850 Ironton and AMVETS Post 95, Greenup, Ky.

            The first time I met Paul, I was not quite sure how to take him. Loud and boisterous, opinionated and pointing that finger. Mind you now, I had not set on a horse in twenty-five years and was just beginning my love affair with the equine all over again. Two friends were just beginning to look for horses and asked if I would like to ride with them one Saturday. Adventurous fool that I am, I went along and proved to myself just how much agility I had lost. How much the extra thirty pounds bounced and changed the mounting and dismounting process. 

 You see in my mind, I was still 20 something and I could do anything. Paul, however, just grinned and did that funny giggle of his. He knew what was in store for me.My friends bought their horses and brought them to the farm, with the horses came Paul. The sorrel with the attitude, that I had chosen to ride that day, was one of those horses unloaded. I had no intention of that horse being mine, but Paul just grinned and said " She knows the way home!"

Time passed and Paul became a frequent visitor. He helped with building stalls, always quick with an opinion and acting as if I had some extra knowledge of those animals, just because I had grown up on a farm. In reality, I had and still have so much to learn, but Paul would just wink and laugh an tell me what a good horse that big red mare was.

The summer brought the wagon train, the first one since the eighties and as pictures were passed around and stories told, Paul was always there, both in the past and now in the present. He collected donation monies for the wagon train or the St. Jude rides with relentless devotion to his cause. No, to our cause, whatever that was. He was someone we knew that we could count on and someone who never asked for praise.

As his health deteriorated, we saw less of him. Unable to sit a horse, he still attended the meetings when he could. He still pointed that finger to make a sure you got what he was saying. He still laughed that belly laugh and had a long lost remedy for some aliment. Our friend will not attend anymore of our meetings. He will be missed, but never forgotten. I know that when we gather around the evening campfires and the stories start about this ride or that event, a Paul story will be told and everyone will laugh and remember this unique man.

 So, Paul, I want you to know, each and every time I climb up on that big red mare, I remember what you said.                           

                                           "You may start out as friends, but one day she will be your partner!"

And so were you, Paul, so were you !!

writen by Vlcki Jenkins

Of Horses and Men

It's been told of good horses lost
In simple words that cowboys use
He dern sure was a good one
He's the kind you hate to lose

He's the kind you could depend on
In the river and the breaks
In rough country and wild cattle
He'd be the one you'd take

His efforts weren't ruled by stature
With him you'd finish what you'd start
His limits were governed only
By the dimension of his heart

His expectations were simple
Merely fairness from a friend
But when he'd feel the need to run
It's best not to fence him in

Pure poetry in motion
As across the plains he'd fly
A tried and true compadre
In a seasoned cowboy's eye

His courage was unmatched by mortal men
From conquistadors to kings
Cowboys sing his praises
At roundups in the spring

Ain't it strange how thoughts of horses lost
Mirror those of men passed on
And though they've gone to glory
Their spirit's never gone

Sometimes simple words seem best
When final words we choose
He dern sure was a good one
He's the kind you hate to lose

© 2003, Jay Snider

PAUL PERRY

AUG.28 1941 - FEB. 2, 2007