From Lisa Day Hopper (childhood friend of mine)

I wish I could have remembered your father's jokes
to write about; all I see is his elf face telling them and chuckling
away!


The last time I saw George Cokinos, he was swinging in the hammock in
his backyard. As always, he made you feel good just to be around him—
kidding around with the children, telling jokes, giving them “jobs”,
and generally helping everyone have FUN. I know he must have had his
share of sadness sometime, but I sure never saw it. Before I left
that day, he jumped up and got out his tractor lawn mower to give
William and Keagan a ride, and I remember marveling that he had
ridden me around the same way probably almost forty years before,
stepping on the gas, and pretending to almost tip over. His energy,
enthusiasm, and optimism were contagious, and you always felt that
nothing terrible could happen when he was around, or if it did, it
wouldn’t be so bad in the end.
You also cannot think of George Cokinos without thinking of the
beach. It was his habitat. When we went to visit him there about
fourteen years ago, I remember how much he reminisced about the long
ago days when he and his wife and two babies would go down to the
beach for the day and picnic there, and how those were the happiest
times for him. I always remembered this, since I know now how much
those first years mean to me as well—of love and babies, and, even if
you are poor, feeling rich in family. This feeling of newness and
wonder at the sheer blessedness of life never seemed to leave George
Cokinos. Even in his death, he was living well, and now that he is
gone, he leaves behind children, grandchildren, family, and friends,
and even friends of children like me, who are lucky to have known him.

From Amanda Cokinos (grand daughter)

My favorite memories of my Papou usually involve sandcrabs, salt water, and the beloved beach house in Bethany Beach. When we were little, he would amaze us and our beach friends by "swallowing" the sand crabs he plucked out of the sand as we all watched wide eyed in amazement. As my grandmother says, "Your grandfather lived to embarass his grandchildren." So as we got older the fun times would continue with a teenaged granddaughter and an unsuspecting male lifeguard. I bet the lifeguards did not know what was awaiting them when they talked to one of the Cokinos granddaughters. My own story involved me and my friend Paige when we were 15 years old. I guess Papou caught us checking out the lifeguards with the binoculars from the deck as they did their morning jog down the beach. Later that day as we were playing in the ocean... Papou comes up to us and grabs each one of us by the wrist and starts marching down the beach towards the lifeguard stand. We laughed and tried to wiggle free, but that man had the strongest grip we had ever seen! We arrive to the lifeguard and he confidently yells up, "Lifeguard?! If these girls drowned would you save them?" The lifeguard looked a little confused and mumbled out some sort of yes because it was his job. Papou nodded in agreement and said, "Good, because these girls are lusting after you!" With that he turned around and walked back to his chair to resume his sunbathing. We stood there stunned and eventually walked back to our house very quickly with our heads staring at our feet, and spent the rest of the day inside hiding from the lifeguards. There are other lifeguard stories like when Papou interrogated a lifeguard who was taking cousin Chryssa to the lifeguard ball and told her to have her home by 9pm as he poked him with a rolled up newspaper. Or for my sister Alyssa, he managed to get a lifeguard up the stairs and into the living room to meet his granddaughter, and who knows how he managed that! Looking back these memories are some of the best we have, we may have been embarrassed at the time but Papou was always after a good laugh from us and usually managed to do so!

From Laric Beckman

Hello, Friends and Family of George Cokinos ~

I first met George and Bebe in 1968, when I was 12 years old. 1968 is the year that they ~ together with Ray and Irene Stone ~ built twin oceanfront houses on North 1^st Street, South Bethany, Delaware ~ the same street that my family had a beach house since 1962. (How lucky could I have been? First things first, the Stone’s son Stacey and I began learning to surf in 1969, a sport I continue to thrive on till this day.)

What struck me about George was that for him, life was fun. At 12 years old, I had never seen that in adults before. My earliest memory of George was honoring his invitation to Stacey and me to pop over for a pancake breakfast. Once seated at his dining room table, George began cooking flapjacks; as they became ready, he flung them like Frisbees at our plates. Some landed on our plates; some landed near our plates; some hit the nearby curtains and landed on the floor; some merely hit the floor. It didn’t matter. Life was fun.

Everyone knows how strong George was. He SQUASHED Stacey and me during our adolescent years. “The Claw;” “The Dutch Rub;” “The ~ ‘the shovel only missed my toes by a ¼ inch!!!’” Etc. Well, the years passed; Stacey and I were 15 and 16; we were feeling strong ourselves. Once, during the summer of 1971, I spied George from the Stone’s deck, reading a magazine in a beach chair down on the beach. “Look how vulnerable he is; LET’S GET HIM!!”

Stacey and I snuck down behind him and threw him out of his chair. Stacey and I jumped overtop of him; we met eyes and knew we were in control; for a second, there was no doubt. WE HAD HIM! However, within an instant, my face was smashed in the sand; only my left eye could see Stacey’s legs flailing uselessly in the air. It was reversed; both of us had been pummeled. That was the last time I ever physically messed with George.

I’ll close with George’s favorite story about me. One day in the summer of 2004, I saw George down by the ocean, entertaining some six or seven-year old kids. As I approached, I realized that he was explaining “sand crabs” to the youngsters. He had a large sand crab in his hand. George asked the kids, “Do you want to see something funny?” My arrival had been fairly sudden; George simply looked at me and commanded: “Open Wide!” Without thinking, I opened my mouth wide; and George threw that sand crab into my mouth as if it were a grape. I pretended to chew, and I fooled those kids; they thought I ate that sucker.

Papou never stopped describing his enjoyment of that moment….

All the best to everyone

From Sally Harris Gass (childhood friend)

As far as writing a story about your Dad, I really can't pick one anecdote because they all run together under one heading, "Life is Good!" He was always the gracious host, concerned father, interested-in-you observer. I can remember that slapping hands game which he always won...I was never fast enough. He rarely sat down but when he did, it was in HIS chair in the den. The tractor, the trailer, the leaves...50+ years in Potomac and there was always a kid getting a ride, being pulled, enjoying the moment. Last summer when I saw him, he said at 90, "I work 5 minutes and then sit 15 minutes." And all I could say was, "That's awesome." He loved his cars, always bought them in Delaware to save sales tax( and Papou on the license plate). The past 25 years I only saw him intermittently, but was always welcomed with a hug and huge grin.

Am not as articulate as some of the people writing on the blog page, but they captured him completely with the Emerson quote!

xoxoxo

From Karen Thomas

I awoke from sleep a moment ago with an epiphany: George P. Cokinos exemplifies “a life well-lived” -- a straight-forward phrase representing a profound endeavor that is a major conundrum for the majority of the humans. However, George did it triumphantly.

Forty-one years ago I met Pat Cibel and through Pat became acquainted with her parents George P. and Bebe, sister Lynda, and brothers Roger and Peter and eventually others members of their family.

Throughout the years, I was present at family events enabling me to gain a sense of George. I gleaned additional insight when Patsy, Roger, my sister Romelie, and nieces Amanda and Alyssa shared their wonderfully memorable anecdotes and experiences with and about George.

George’s legacy: perseverance, focused tenacity, superlative “sense of family”, appreciation and adherence to traditions, engaged daily in purposeful activity and work, a rich sense of humor and last but not least his “joie de vivre”-- buoyant enjoyment of life throughout!

The following quote from the great American essayist, philosopher, and poet Ralph Waldo Emerson’s surely and perfectly speaks of George: "To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better, to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."

From Mary Teresa Goener

Don't know if you remember me - Mary Teresa (Dale and Mary Warren's niece).

I just finished reading through your blog (your picture looks like you haven't aged since 16). What a great man your Dad was, I'm sorry for your loss. My Dad (Wayne Brizendine) let my sisters and I know about the sad news the other day and I can't help thinking about how much fun your parents were to be around.

I remember your Dad chasing down us kids to force feed us rumballs one Christmas and all the wonderful appetizers your Mom always made. The marches on the beach were always terrific fun. I think George was the oldest kid I ever knew.

Know that you and your family are in my prayers.

Papou by Murphy Donovan

This is from my neighbor, Murphy:

12 February 08. The ancient Greeks called excellence arete. They believed that the ideal man cultivated mind, body and civic duty. From this trinity came our words for symposium, gymnasium and agora. Indeed, the agora was literally the market place for ideas, the original public space for debate. In the agora, Pericles famously reminded the citizens of Athens that only good men make good families. Those families in turn made an excellent state possible. After 2500 years, I could still see those qualities in George Cokinos; agile of mind, fit with a full head of hair and proud to be Greek and American. He had a foot firmly planted in the best of both worlds.

The independent, if not rebellious side of George, was quintessentially American. Back in the day, it was not wise nor prudent to defy the wishes of your parents, surely not immigrant Greek parents. Yet, George did so to marry Bebe, the girl he knew to be the love of his life. This my favorite of all the stories he loved to tell. George believed in himself and he believed in his Bebe.

Last summer at the beach we sat up late into the night listening to and watching a tribute to Pavarotti. When the music faded we spoke of regret and trust, those two most important human emotions. We agreed that without regret no progress or improvement was possible. George spoke eloquently of making lemonade out of lemons, turning business failures into learning experiences. Those were tough schools, yet he believed none were better. He also spoke of days when a handshake was a bond. He understood that without trust no relationship was possible - not friendship, not love, not marriage, not business and certainly not government.

I teased George that night about his maverick side and pointed out that he didn't seem to appreciate that same quality in his children. He laughed and said that not everybody likes lemonade.
When I asked him the secret to a marriage that lasted more than half a century, he had a one word answer; Bebe. He said that his wife made him a better man.

I also loved to hear him tell of his estrangement and then reconciliation with his parents. He was famously proud of his parents who went from candy makers, to restaurant owners, to real estate developers. They lived the American dream in one generation. George was proud that his mom fed the men who built the National Cathedral.

I started in a bit of a hole myself in that Bronx orphanage. So I felt a kinship with George when he spoke of the bumps in the road. He and I thrived in that same school of hard knocks. Failure was not an option. As a young Air Force officer, I remember being part of a study where the brass was trying to quantify the qualities that made good officers, good pilots. In the end we concluded that the "right stuff'" couldn't be quantified. You either had it or you didn't. George had the right stuff!

These and any other words will be small consolation to Bebe for a lifetime of memories. Yet, I am happy that George died with his boots on. He didn't end his life in some dreary place for the infirm. He went out doing something he loved with someone he loved. We should all be so lucky.

In his most famous funeral oration, Pericles also said that the only thing we mortals really leave behind is our place in the hearts of others. Indeed. It was an honor for Annabell and I to know George Cokinos and it was always a pleasure to see how much he loved his wife. Bebe and all of her family are in our hearts and our prayers.

From Karen Thomas who came to our family as a mother's helper to my sister many moons ago:


To the beloved family of George P. Cokinos: when I heard about the death of your beloved husband, father, grandfather (and many other titles for the many other roles he represented in so many lives), I felt as though I had been struck in my stomach and that feeling of not being able to catch my breath. I am saddened, sickened and sorrowful to know this extraordinary human being has passed on. George was a beautiful man -- a man possessed of stellar character -- a man who was bigger than life, an icon. George had the rare gift of acknowledging everyone present at any gathering or event he was a participant. What a memorable, compelling personality -- he was always so kind, nice and warm to me -- I celebrate that I had the privilege to know George P. Cokinos.

With heartfelt sympathy, I remain yours affectionately, Karen Thomas