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  Mark Arvid Hopkins 

November 30, 1954 - March 29, 2008 

Phillip' Eulogy

I was Mark’s best man at his wedding 20 some odd years ago.  My only real important job that day was to give the first toast at the reception.  Monica asked me weeks in advance.  I said that would be no problem.  Be happy to. So, I had plenty of time to prepare.  We’re finally all at the reception, standing around WIH (Mark and I sometimes communicated with acronyms) and having a good old time.  I notice out of the corner of my eye Monica is staring at me.  Not a big deal.  Looking back over her way a moment later I noticed that she was still staring at me.  So, I stared back.  Her stare becomes more intense as she finally says, “Phillip!”  Being the quick witted type, I responded with, “What?”   She then said, “The toast!!”  Uh, huh.  Well, I hadn’t even given it one thought from the moment she asked me until right then and there.  Monika actually produced last week a picture of me standing there WIH going through my tap dance routine. I remember a little of what I said but what has stayed with me over these years was being overcome with a sense of urgency to say something coupled with not being able to say anything. Time simply stopped.

But, for the past two weeks I’ve been completely preoccupied with this day, moment, all the while thinking every day upon waking that the dust would have settled, emotions would have subsided, and thoughts would have crystallized, and I’d know exactly what to say to you today.  It’s been a real struggle to decide exactly what to talk about.  But, we’re in a church, the reverend sits here, my family is here, Mark’s family is here.  That really helped narrow it down quite a bit.

We’re here today to remember Mark and to grant his wishes about what we should do on this day.  We have some very important things to talk about.  But, we’re also going to tell some stories, because that’s what we always did and that is what Mark wanted us to do.  So, if you’re worried about being called by name, you probably should be.  Bolt now or forever keep your seat.

I don’t remember meeting Mark. Like so many of us who were born and raised in Washington we were all sort of like trees and bushes and houses and such.  We were just……..here, part of the landscape. In all likelihood, though, we met in the nursery at the Methodist Church.  He probably bit me or something or, I him. Or maybe he took the wheels off the firetruck so it wouldn’t roll.

But what made our relationship different was the fact that, outside my family, he was the only friend I’ve ever had that I never lost touch with.  From that moment in the nursery when he bit me until two weeks ago, through the college years, the summers in between, those rocky 5 or so years after college.  The early 80’s adventure in Atlanta living together, bachelors, etc.  Marriage. And, then through these final 10-15 years where we settled into our routines of raising children and making a living.

Someone asked me what were our best times together.  A few weeks ago, without thinking, I would have said the summers of 73 and 74 right here in Washington.  Just for the fun of it. If you’re interested to know who all that are here today were a part of that, just look around at the smiles as I say these words; Granny’s Hill, Pet Milk, ZZ Top, Graves Mountain at dusk, Frankenstein in 3D, Pistol Creek, Tastee Freeze paralysis. I could go on. We were dangerous but, somehow managed to survive it. But, now, without question, the most special have been these last few years, rehashing every event and every person we ever knew, places, things, relationships, over and over and over.  He helped me remember some things.  I helped him remember A LOT of things.  And, we laughed and laughed and laughed every time we went through them.

Let me tell a few stories to illustrate what being a friend of Mark’s was like. These stories we would retell when we needed a laugh. They’ve never grown old. In our crowd, you couldn’t be vulnerable.  If there was a chink in your armor, somebody would find it, and exploit it for its entertainment value.  You had to be careful, skeptical, and always looking over your shoulder.  And, we even occasionally took advantage of our loyalty to each other and our trust in each other again, solely for its entertainment value.

            Fake scar story with Newberry

            Coming down the back of Graves Mountain

            Getting Fired from the Funeral Home

            Coming out of the closet

            Meeting Carol

But, it was telling these stories, talking about old times, old friends, and old relationships that led us to the conclusion that we needed to be in better touch with our roots, needed to see all these people.  I realized it was important to him and he the same simply because we never stopped talking about our past.  So, we kicked off our last first annual Jockless Club meeting in April of last year, a meeting of friends that shed the class reunion paradigm.  He was on fire about that party and found many of our old friends that we’d lost touch with.  Tonight, we’re having the second annual Jockless Club meeting upstairs at the Jockey Club at 7:00.  It has been planned for several months. All of you are invited. Mark and I talked about this very day on a number of occasions.  And it was our agreement that we would have a party, talk about old times, propose a toast, then move on with our lives.  So, this whole day, the service, the meal afterwards, meeting of family and friends, and this party tonight, are absolutely perfect.  This is exactly what he wanted.

Whether we realize it or not, every friend we have teaches us something.  But, all too often, it takes us losing them to force us to talk to each other, share our experiences, and reflect sufficiently enough to figure out exactly what it was.  And, while, there are still dust clouds swirling in my head and many unanswered questions about losing Mark, one thing that has crystallized perfectly is what having Mark as a friend for 53 years taught me.  And, it is this.  We have to learn to look for love and be able to recognize love in the way it is shown or given in each person’s own unique way.  Not the way Dr. Phil, Oprah, or Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan tell us.  But, the way each individual shows it or gives it.  If we can do that, we then have the ability to build an unbreakable foundation that will support a life long friendship.   Mark and I had an unbreakable foundation. We never had to apologize to each other for anything we ever said or did because we both knew that the other’s heart was in the right place.  Apologies weren’t necessary, but understood. No matter what he said, I always knew what he meant and he the same with me. Relationships will only sustain themselves over the long term when we learn to accept the bad with the good and when we are able to see so much good in a person’s strengths that the weaknesses simply aren’t powerful enough to undermine the friendship.  Mark and I had a common weakness some years ago that had the potential to unravel our friendship, girlfriends that could not get along.  Actually, they hated each other.  We talked about it and made an oath to each other that they would not come between us.  In case you’re wondering, neither one of those ladies are here today.

Let me close with this. Justin and Jenna, I think it is important that you understand that we didn’t come here today for your dad but rather because of your dad. He doesn’t need us any more.  We all came here today for each other but, most importantly, for you. And, neither did we come here today thinking we had to try and convince you that your dad loved you. You know he did and we know you don’t doubt it one bit and never have.  He was incapable of not loving you. It’s our desire that, having this service and listening to what your dad meant to others and allowing you to see your dad in a way that maybe you didn’t before, will help you look back over your life with him, and viewing it through a slightly different lens now, or a wider lens, you see more love than you’ve been able to see before.  That is our primary reason for being here today, our offering to you. If you can do that, we’ve succeeded and this day represents a huge victory.  March 29^th will forever be what it is. It can’t be changed. But, it is our sincere hope that all of us, but especially you, Justin and Jenna, will be able to one day look back on this day and every April 12^th to come, as a better day, maybe even a good day.

Phillip Blackmon

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