Dennis Hopper

Dennis Hopper was a friend of my uncle, Walter Hopps. I have a memory of him at Walter's funeral. It was a beautiful sunny day in Lone Pine, a valley surrounded by snow capped mountains. My father, brother, and I were standing on a small turf of green grass in the middle of our motel's courtyard. Mr. Hopper came striding up to us, stated "I'm Dennis Hopper" and shook our hands.

At the funeral reception the waiters and waitresses were asking Caroline, his widow, for his autograph. There were whispers about "who was this guy who died?" Little did they know that in black leather jackets was a selection of some of the bright lights in American visual arts also attending. I was bereaved at my uncle's death. But I had some comfort in how beautiful the sunflower arrangements were on his coffin and at the reception. I also baked 200 biscottis, four flavors (cappucino, chocolate, ginger, cranberry lemon) and it was neat to see the guests munching on them.

Later on, we saw a number of motorcycle choppers cruising in Lone Pine and laughed and said "if they only knew".

Walter, a museum curator, said that Mr. Hopper was a very talented photographer in his own right in addition to his acting talents. Dennis Hopper was a part of my uncle's world. So was Andy Warhol, Robert Rauschenberg, Marcel Duchamp, amongst many other greats.

I honor Dennis Hopper and his epic talents.

The world is a better place for the artists like Mr. Hopper, it's more textured, fascinating, and richer for their contribution to our society.

Rest in peace.

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