(Note: The following is an excerpt from Larry Walker’s eulogy, given June 14, 2026, at the Perry Methodist Church.)
“Friends are the siblings that God never gave us.”
–Mencius, Chinese philosopher
…
God didn’t give me a brother, but for Lawrence Cohen Walker Jr. I say, “Thank you, Lord.” Larry became my honorary “big brother.”
Thank you, Janice, Lawrence, Wendy, Russell and John Gray for this opportunity to reflect on Larry’s 84 years.
If you tried to strip Larry’s love of and devotion to Perry from his soul, it would have sounded like ripping apart a piece of Velcro as long and wide as the Gnat Line.
Larry’s love affair with Houston County didn’t start when he first opened his eyes on March 9, 1942. But when Lawrence Cohen Walker Jr. started toddling around his daddy’s farm-supply store, he began taking notice of his hometown. And by the time he quit squirming in Perry Methodist Church’s pews, Larry was in love with where he was born.
How do you summarize Larry’s incredible life in a few minutes?
Impossible.
But when I think of my friend, I think of these indelible qualities:
Family man
Larry’s family made him smile. He loved to talk about them all, starting with his high-school sweetheart Janice Knighton, who became the mother of their four children. I dubbed Larry and Janice the King and Queen of the Gnat Line. He beamed when his nine grandchildren called him “Grandbuddy.”
Magnetic personality
People were drawn to Larry. As a lawyer, people of all walks of life and colors were drawn to seek his advice—legal and otherwise. He listened. He cared.
And there was a fun-loving flipside to Larry’s magnetic personality. He was forever pulling friends together to swap stories. He nicknamed one group the Liar’s Club. In a word, Larry was fun.
Statesman
When Sam Nunn went to Washington as a United States senator, voters sent Larry to Atlanta to fill Sam’s seat in the General Assembly. Over 32 years, Larry was elected 16 times.
I believe Sam Nunn is the best United States president that America never had. And I say Larry, the statesman, could have been one of the best governors that Georgia ever had.
Hometown booster
You couldn’t be around Larry long without him bringing up his hometown. Every time I visited, he took me on a tour to see something new. He was excited to see the Larry Walker Arena being built at the Georgia National Fair. And I’d tease him by asking, “Now, is this Larry Walker Parkway named for Sen. Larry Walker III or his daddy?”
Southern drawl
If you knew Larry and you were blindfolded, you could pick his slow, syrupy voice out of 1,000 others. I’ve saved my last voicemail from Larry. I want to hear his distinctive Southern drawl all the way to Heaven, where I will see him again.
Avid reader/writer
Larry loved words. He and I were a two-man book club. The shelves of our personal libraries are filled with “you-need-to-read-this” books. His popular newspaper columns became books, Life on the Gnat Line and Tales from Georgia’s Gnat Line. Our favorite bookstore was Square Books in Oxford, Mississippi.
Outdoorsman
I can’t count the times Larry asked, “When are we going fishing?” or “Don’t you want to go quail hunting?” Even with his health declining, he kept his competitiveness. Our last time in a boat, Larry whooped to our buddies, “Hey, look at this one!”
Music man
For Larry, a close second to books was music. Right behind music was barbecue. We shared the same appetite for all three. As a state representative, Larry helped Ray Charles’ version of “Georgia on My Mind” become our state’s official song. And how can I ever forget our road trip to hear Jerry Lee Lewis in Tunica, Mississippi?
Visionary
Larry Walker had the vision to see around the corner and into the future. A good example is the sprawling complex along I-75 that is known at the Georgia National Fair. As a young father, he watched children getting their livestock ready to show at the state fair in Macon. He told me, “All they had were two spigots and a mud puddle.” That was the spark that set him on fire to create something better. That something better draws a million people a year to Perry.
Larry and I had a mutual friend, Jim Minter. When Jim was editor of The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, he wrote a column labeling the decision to put the state fair in Perry a “boondoggle.” Later, Jim changed his mind. It became a good-natured joke among the three of us. And sometimes when I drove by on I-75, I’d call Larry and say, “Col. Walker, looks like there are only 10,000 cars at the ‘boondoggle’ today.”
Larry’s life was a testimony of how one visionary person can make a huge difference. Lawrence Cohen Walker Jr. proved you don’t have to be 10 feet tall to be a giant.
There’s an Irish proverb: “A best friend is like a four-leaf clover, hard to find and lucky to have.” I am grateful that Gov. Sonny Perdue appointed both of us to the University System of Georgia’s Board of Regents. That’s where I was lucky to find Larry, my best friend.
Henry Ford said that your best friend brought out the best in you. That’s what Lawrence Cohen Walker Jr. did for me and countless others.
