Gary was my uncle. His sister June was my mother. I remember going to his boyhood home,"grandma’s house," during his tours in Vietnam. At one time when he was home from Vietnam for a short stint, I'll never forget overhearing the conversations between him and my grandpa Cotner concerning his tours in Vietnam. I remember when Uncle Gary was telling my grandpa of several horrifying stories of his involvement in Vietnam and how he beat himself up and refused to feel like a hero when in fact as a boy of eight or nine years old I thought that he was a hero for some of the actions he took in battles. He cried with grandpa while grandpa was trying to console him and defend his reasoning for doing the right things in war. I will never forget those stories and I will never forget my Uncle Gary, the hero!


Gary was a close friend in high school. We ate lunch together every day. He was the only person I knew who could throw a curveball. That thing would really dip. Gary was on the quiet side, but he was passionate about stuff and fearless. 

I remember one night on the old Chain of Rocks bridge, Gary was inconsolable because some girl had done him wrong. Threatening to kill himself, he climbed over the railing and dangled precariously from a metal girder under the bridge by his fingertips. I watched him hanging there in the moonlight, the dark water rushing below his feet, and I started to get scared. What if he could not get back up? What if he fell? I knew we were teenagers and indestructible and all, but this was crazy. The girl did not even go to our school. 

But that was Gary. He climbed back up--I don't know how--and blew it off like no big deal. After high school, he enlisted in the Marines and served a tour of duty in Vietnam.

 As for me, I moved away after that, and we lost touch. I looked up Gary's phone number on the internet one time and meant to call him, but never did--and now it is too late.


Gary was my 7th and 8th grade crush at East Junior High. He sat behind me in several classes and we carried on a mild flirtation, though we both were too shy to ever have anything escalate into girlfriend-boyfriend status. I did give him a Love Chain made of Wrigley Gum wrappers. I also pulled the Fruit Loop off the back of one of his shirts. The girls pulled them off of the boys’ shirts (and sometimes accidentally tore the shirt) as a perverse form of Junior High affection! I thought he was very cute and smart and we always had fun together in class. We lost touch in high school (how do those things happen?) and I never saw him again after we graduated, but I am glad I have these sweet memories of Gary. 

A few years ago, he told Sandy Elmer Williams that he was in the early stages of Alzheimers. Gary had brought his teenage daughters to Sandy's pediatric clinic and they talked for a while then. Sandy attended Riverview Elementary with Gary and had not seen him for years. She told his daughters that all the girls thought he was one of the cutest boys in school. She said it was great fun filling in his daughters on the very young Gary Cotner. Art Verme visited Gary at the St. Louis Veterans Home on Highway 367 not long before Gary died. Unfortunately, by that time Gary did not recognize Art. Over the last few years, Art and I have talked and reminisced about Gary. Growing up, Art, Gary and John Walton called themselves the Three Musketeers. Art said they were great boyhood friends.


How is it that God calls us home From such a world that he has shown. 
 Of times and thoughts as we have grown, Only too soon to be called home.
 To live and love, and see all we have known, Each year so closer, to be called home.
 So shocking to see who have passed so quick, Never knowing they’re ill or sick.
 Forever we know of friends while alone, Hoping to see them, once called home.