On August 1, generations of William Rufus Cooley’s descendants gathered at Coal Creek Memorial Park for their annual reunion. I am actually a descendant of William’s brother, Wiley Preston Cooley, who was my great-great-grandfather. My father was one of three people memorialized at the event, which prompted me to attend. My dad had been to these reunions several times, and I was both saddened and honored to speak about him to his many distant relatives.
I was so thankful to be aware of this year’s reunion, thanks to the Cooley Family Facebook page maintained by Becky Helton. There was no one there who truly knew my father, and I couldn’t bear the thought of him not being remembered at an event that meant so much to him. I wasn’t sure what memorial items to bring, so I brought a copy of my book, Herb Cooley: The Law Enforcement Legacy of My Father, for display.
As I was enjoying the meal following the service, a cousin named Luke approached me, asking if my dad had served on the board of directors at the Cardinal Criminal Justice Academy in Salem. When I said he had, Luke told me he was currently going through that very academy. I knew then that Luke was the person for whom my book was meant. I signed it for him, and the money he gave me went to the cemetery fund in Dad’s memory. Dad would have been so happy that a fine young man like Luke was continuing the Cooley law enforcement tradition while honoring his legacy.
Afterward, I went to spend some time at Dad’s resting place. My parents have the nicest monument in the cemetery. Even though I know Dad wasn’t truly beneath the ground at my feet, I found myself unable to break away from the spot. I felt so empty. Still, my dad deserved to be remembered that day; it’s what he would have wanted. I feel blessed that, despite my limitations, I was able to pay him a tribute I hope did him justice.
My father loved the Cooley reunions. He especially loved the memorial services held in honor of our loved ones who had passed away, which is why I wanted to ensure I didn’t miss the opportunity to pay homage to his memory. My father was one of the most decorated police officers in the Commonwealth of Virginia. His lifetime of service began with a four-year stint in the United States Coast Guard, where he served as a radio operator from 1962 to 1966. He was immensely proud to have served his country, but I would go so far as to say he was even prouder of his heritage as a Cooley—not just as a Cooley, but as a Coal Creek Cooley.
He loved the area where he grew up and never stopped reminiscing about the blissful days spent on his Grayson County farm, the place that represented his childhood. During the last dozen or so years of his life, he became an incessant genealogical researcher. If he could have traced our ancestry all the way back to Adam, I’m fairly certain he would have done so given enough time on Earth. He knew the stories of our ancestors as well as anyone ever could, and he delighted in sharing them.
He was especially proud that Abraham Cooley, our first ancestor to settle in Grayson County before the dawn of this nation, was a signer of the New York Declaration—one of the documents that helped pave the way for our eventual Declaration of Independence. It seems almost serendipitous that his son, Benjamin Cooley, would later become the first elected Sheriff of Carroll County, Virginia. That passion for public service clearly still runs through our veins today. In addition to my father’s remarkable 45-year career in law enforcement, he now has a great-grandson who has graduated with a degree in Criminal Justice from Dad’s alma mater, Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond. I know that would have made him profoundly proud, as did his ancestors’ military service, which encompassed every generation right down to his own.
The last time I was in the Coal Creek Community Church on November 8, 2025, I was eulogizing my father before a capacity crowd of more than 150 police officers, family members, and friends who mourned him then and continue to miss him today, just as I do.
“I can still vividly recall our many trips to the cemetery here, where he would regale me with stories of our great-grandfathers from generations past,” I said. “Today, I will visit that cemetery for the first time since his funeral to pay my respects to him in the place where he always wanted to rest. One day, my wife and I will rest beside him.”
“If he were here today, he would be greeting each of you with his trademark million-kilowatt smile, trading stories about the famous Benjamin Cooley clock, which he and I, along with my wife and daughter, were fortunate enough to be photographed with at the Carroll County Museum,” I concluded. “Those memories fill me with joy today, just as they always do whenever I remember what a great man my father was and the great stock from which he came.”
The Cooley blood that flows through our veins is the blood of honest, hardworking people who believed in family, as well as the privilege and responsibility of being Americans. As we gathered in fellowship on that day, I did so with the comfort of knowing that my father had been proudly honored, just like all of our loved ones who have gone on to Heaven before us. Until we are reunited with them again, we should never forget what Coal Creek, Grayson County, and Carroll County mean to our heritage. My father certainly never did. And thanks to him, neither will I.
