What was meant to be a memorial event honoring military heroes took on an even deeper significance as friends and family gathered to celebrate the life of another kind of hero — Roy Cooper, affectionately known as “Super Roy.” While the original plan was to reflect on the sacrifices of the nation’s servicemen and women, those in attendance found themselves also grieving the loss of a man whose personal legacy left a lasting mark on everyone he touched.

Roy wasn’t just a friend or a family member — to many, he was a legend. One speaker, fighting back emotion, recalled Roy as one of his very best friends, a person he could count on “on one hand.” “He was my hero,” he said, pausing to reflect on the countless memories they had shared over the years. Roy wasn’t the kind of man who sought attention. Instead, he gave freely — his time, his support, even “the shirt off his back,” and he would never hesitate to lift up those around him.

One of the unique aspects of Roy’s life was the community he built — a tight-knit circle that included world champions and local legends alike. Through Roy, his friend met countless people he otherwise wouldn’t have crossed paths with, including Howard Council, a saddle maker Roy admired deeply. Roy insisted his friend own one of Howard’s saddles, calling them the best in the world — and he wasn’t wrong. Over the years, he ended up with a few, treasures that now carry even more meaning.

They say “they broke the mold” after Roy Cooper — and everyone present seemed to agree. His personality, his generosity, and his endless humor made him unforgettable. One particularly cherished memory involved a spontaneous horse race at the All-American. After parading in front of the crowd with the governor and other dignitaries, Roy challenged his buddy to a race — and without warning, they took off. The crowd was stunned, but they didn’t care. “Roy always said he won that race by a nose,” his friend laughed. “I guess I’ll admit it now — he did.”

Another story from the Kentucky Derby captured Roy’s playful spirit. At a post-race party, Roy — ever the charmer — attempted to dance with Stevie Nicks. Years later, she still remembered the encounter, asking, “Hey, where’s that crazy cowboy of yours?” That was the kind of impression Roy made — larger-than-life, unforgettable, and always good for a laugh.

But beneath the stories and the laughter was a deep love: for his friends, his family, and his faith. The speaker ended with a heartfelt sentiment, imagining a reunion with Roy in paradise: “Throw a council on one for me, brother. Let’s race.”

As the crowd remembered a man who touched so many lives, one thing was clear — Roy Cooper wasn’t just honored today. He was celebrated, missed, and forever cherished.