Memorial Service
Eulogies were provided by: Dr. Cynthia Belar, Executive Director of Education of the American Psychological Association; Nate’s wife, Suzanne Bennett Johnson; and three of his children – Keith Warren Perry, Erika Marion Perry, and Marissa Clara Perry.
Each of the eulogies are provided here in the order they were delivered.
A Tribute to Nate’s
Professional Contributions
by Cynthia Belar
These remarks address Nate’s contributions to psychology, his chosen profession. Since Nate was also my friend, his passing represents both a personal and professional loss. But my comments are primarily for those who may have had little knowledge of Nate’s professional life, or his stature within the discipline of psychology.
Nate received his PhD in clinical psychology from Florida State University in 1963, and over the next 44 years served as a researcher, practitioner, educator, administrator and advocate for our discipline. I was fortunate to know Nate for 33 of those years; for 14 years he was my boss. It is easy to cite his titles … among his many roles in regional and national professional organizations, he was elected as president of the
- Florida Association of Applied Psychologists (1979)
- Florida Psychological Association (1983)
- American Board of Health Psychology (1987-1990)
- Assembly of Scientist-Practitioner Psychologists (1990-1995)
- Southeastern Psychological Association (1997-98)
- Society of Clinical Psychology (1996)
- Association of Medical School Psychologists (1999)
He was also elected to a 3 year term on the Board of Directors of the American Psychological Association (APA) (2000-2002), the world’s largest organization of psychologists with some 145,000 members, and held the status of Fellow in 3 of its divisions.
For over 20 years Nate was Chairman of the Department of Clinical and Health Psychology at the University of Florida, where he also served as co-director of the Visual Sciences Laboratory (1964-74), the UF National Alcohol Research Center (1982-85) and the Mind-Machine Interaction Research Center in the UF College of Engineering. Among his numerous awards were ones for lifetime achievement from the Florida Psychological Association (1998 and again in 2007) and a Career Service Award from the APA Division of Health Psychology (2000).
But what does all this really mean? Let me be a bit more specific.
Nate’s research was on the human visual evoked response and how the brain processes information that comes in from our eyes. He received numerous federal grants and contracts for his work, some of which was of great interest to our nation’s security and intelligence agencies. Why? He was in the forefront of studying how recordings of electrical activity in the brain could be used to determine whether a person was seeing something for the first time, or had actually seen it before. Just think of the implications of this research for being able to assess whether someone is telling the truth about what they have seen before…..
In his administrative work, Nate built the department at the University of Florida into a powerhouse of scientist-practitioner education, training, research and practice. He was nationally recognized for his leadership in what we refer to as the “integration of science and practice,” and argued strongly that research training was essential to students’ later roles as scientists, practitioners, or both. He did not view psychology as a profession that only applied scientific knowledge in patient care, but wanted psychologists to be well-prepared to create that knowledge itself and to apply it scientifically in practice – a precursor of the evidence based practice movement now promulgated for all the health professions by our national Institute of Medicine. In 1990 he co-chaired a national conference on this model of education and training – the results of which are currently used by doctoral programs throughout the country that seek accreditation from the APA.
Nate also supported the role of psychologists in all aspects of health care — not just in mental health care. The department was located in a health science center - a very unique arrangement for a department of psychology – and Nate hired faculty who worked in pain management, the diagnosis of neurological disorders, coping with chronic diseases (yes, cancer being among them), adherence to medical regimens, management of stressful medical procedures (e.g., organ transplantation, dental procedures), disease prevention and health promotion, rehabilitation. By creating a strong department that trained psychologists to work in all aspects of health care, he was a true visionary. By 1998 Nate had built a department with a nationally recognized faculty in clinical health, child and neuropsychology. He grew the department from a small faculty paid less than the national average to a large multimillion dollar enterprise.
Nate fought hard to obtain resources, he invested them wisely — and he also saved. In fact at the time of his retirement he had accumulated nearly 1 million dollars in the department’s bank account, a fact of which he was very proud. As the current chair, Rus Bauer, has noted, the success of the department today “stands as a lasting legacy of Nate Perry’s pioneering efforts.” More recently the department received at least two national awards for its graduate education and its contributions to science – honors that could not have occurred without a long history of developing its infrastructure and support from its administrators.
Some of Nate’s greatest contributions have been through his advocacy for psychology in legislation and in public policy. He was a strong proponent at both state and federal levels for parity of psychology in health care, quality in education and training, and support for psychological research. Few people know that it was Nate who introduced my staff to Herb Goldstein, a UF alumnus who had a close relationship with U.S. Congressman Young, then chair of the US House of Representatives’ Appropriations Committee. When we later designed the Graduate Psychology Education program, Herb and Congressman Young were instrumental in getting it funded — the only federal program targeting training of health service psychologists. This program has clear roots in Nate’s help and millions of dollars have already gone to doctoral and internship programs to enhance education and training for psychologists to work with underserved populations in this nation.
Nate was not without controversy in his professional life, whether it related to his research (some objected to psychological research being funded by the CIA) or the positions he took on issues of national importance in our field. He was a man dedicated to quality and to principle. He was a strong advocate for his beliefs, and a true force to be reckoned with. He was not afraid to challenge authority or the status quo. He was passionate, opinionated, and relentless. He was also open to new information and could really could admit when wrong. Nate also had a great sense of humor, more self-deprecating in his later years, and he used it effectively to disarm tense moments.
Nate did not seek conflict, nor did he avoid it. He was politically astute and strategic in his thinking and planning — with those skills he helped resolve many problems among various groups, and he facilitated the individual career achievement of many others — often receiving little credit for his own efforts or contributions. He was also proud of the accomplishments of others – especially those of his very accomplished wife, Suzanne.
Some students were intimidated by Nate, but those whom he supervised encountered a compassionate, sensitive, patient-centered approach in their work together. Faculty in whom he had confidence found a nurturant mentor whose wisdom and candid advice was invaluable. I know, myself, that his unwavering confidence in my abilities was an essential component to my own professional development and success.
There are and will be other leaders in psychology, but there will never be another Nate Perry. His passing is not only our personal loss, but a loss to psychology as a discipline and a profession. Though he may have left us behind, he has also left behind a legacy of institutionalized values and programs, as well as the contributions from faculty, students, and patients whose lives he impacted. As I said to him shortly before he died – he was going on a journey and I could not accompany him at this time — but I knew he would always be with me in both my heart and my mind. In confronting complex situations, I know I will always hear his voice. Perhaps more important is the fact that much of what Nate stood and fought for has now become institutionalized; his most lasting contributions have become part of the fabric of our field.
Lucky Lady Me
by Suzanne Bennett Johnson
Nate loved stories. Since he was very young, he was an avid reader and would use any money he could scrape together to go to the movies. The Lou Gehrig story was one of his favorites. Gehrig was a NY Yankee who developed ALS which became known as Lou Gehrig’s disease. As Nate tells it, as part of Gehrig’s good-bye in 1939 (Nate was 7 at the time), Gehrig stood before 62,000 fans at Yankee stadium and called himself “the luckiest man on the face of the earth.” Nate would always tear up telling me the story. To be honest, I didn’t really get this (although I never really said this to Nate). Gehrig was only 36 at the time and died at 38. He didn’t seem very lucky to me.
When I was thinking about what I wanted to say to you and to Nate today, this story – so poignant and important to Nate – came back to me. I realized that I was one lucky lady to have shared half my life with Nate who has given me so much in so many ways. So I have titled my remarks, “Lucky Lady Me.”
Nate was passionate about many things – psychology, technology, cars, his yard and garden, his koi, and the Seminoles, to name a few. But he was most passionate about me. His love for me knew no limits and he was willing to turn his life upside down to be with me. To be the recipient of such great love, to return it, and to watch it grow stronger as the years passed is such a remarkable gift that Nate and I often talked about how fortunate, how “lucky” we were to have experienced it.
Nate was my best friend, my lover, my soul-mate, and I was all those things to him. Since we were both psychologists and shared many of the same passions and values about our chosen profession, it was easy to talk about this topic and we spent many hours doing so. We did not always agree and some found our marriage odd since both of us can be very strong-willed and argumentative. How could two people like that be so in love and stay together? There are two answers to this question. First, a true friend is honest, even if the communication is not always what the other person wants to hear. If you really believe your partner will always be honest with you, there is a certain security in knowing that he or she will not let you delude yourself into following a particular detrimental course of action. Second, with time, we learned all the buttons that when pushed caused the other distress and we stopped pushing those buttons unless we felt it was absolutely necessary.
Nate found great joy in my success and happiness. Since I was 15 years younger, when we married I was still establishing my career while he was already very successful. His belief in me and pride in my accomplishments were such an important part of my own growth and development. He gave me the confidence to pursue my goals and he picked me up when I stumbled.
Nate loved to combine passions. He did this by giving me things – fancy cars, photographic equipment, high-end binoculars (because I like to look at birds), and every known technological advance for the kitchen, laundry or household. I hate to spend money on things, and these gifts bothered me no end. I didn’t feel I needed any of these things but in the end I loved every thing he got me – my awesome coffee maker, my wonderful digital camera with all the amazing lenses, my fancy car with its GPS, my state of the art induction cook-top. He got such joy out of watching me enjoy these gifts – all those things I had so adamantly insisted I didn’t need.
However, his best gift was our two girls. When he married me, he never thought I would want to have children. I was very invested in my career and he thought there was no room for children. But his love made me want to have children. Poor Nate - the prospect of starting another family at 48 years of age was sobering indeed. After some soul-searching, I remember him telling me that it did not seem fair to deny me motherhood because he had already been a father. So we decided to have a family. We both agreed it was the best decision of our married life. I loved being a mom and Nate loved being a Dad. As a family, we had such fun traveling the world together. Nate was just as passionate and proud of his two girls as he was about me. With his love, support, advice and wisdom, he got all three of us ready to take on the world and he basked in our every success.
There are just three of us now. When you have known such love and happiness, it is so hard to let it go. Nate did not want to leave us and we did not want him to go. But there reached a point in his suffering, when we all knew he needed to leave us. We all held hands and he told us how much he loved us and we squeezed his hands and told him of our great love for him and assured him we would be ok.
I am a planner, and that was one of my roles in our marriage. When we traveled, each morning Nate would always ask “So what’s the plan?” When he was sick, most days he would ask me “So what’s the plan?”
Nate, tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life. I know you are asking me “So what’s the plan?” Things are complicated for me now but I am definitely working on a plan. I will get the details to you soon but in the meantime, you can rest assured that I miss you terribly but I’m going to be ok. And thanks to you, Nate and the 30 years you have given me, as Lou Gehrig would say, “I am the luckiest woman on the face of the earth.”
We Love You Dad
by Keith Perry
Keith spoke beautifully and more spontaneously than the rest of us! He’s in the process of writing down his spoken comments.
The Lessons You Have Taught Me
by Erika Marion Perry
This is a letter I was fortunate enough to have already shared with dad. I will now share it with all of you.
Daddy,
Oh where to begin, the lessons you have taught me are absolutely endless. I would be crying and writing for days so I’ve narrowed it down to the ones that seem to come to mind the most, the ones that seemed to have left the biggest imprint.
To believe in myself.
Who knows how long you have been bragging about Rissy and me. Judging from my nick name, I would go so far as to guess, you may have been bragging about me from as early as 1 year. Although at 1 year I couldn’t really do much of anything, you and mom have always found (or invented) something that Rissy and I seem to excell at. So apparently I must have been taking some magnificent dumps, and my guess is you were bragging about them- hence the nick name “the dump.”
Truly daddy, although it was incredibly embarrassing (especially for Rissy) all that bragging is the reason we are who we are today. I am 100% convinced that the reason we are so successful is because you convinced us that we could be. Even up until recently, although I had told you 100 times I did not want to president of my company that never stopped you from reminding me that I could be. And the sweetest part, is you really did believe it.
So thank you for always believing in me daddy. For years to come I will always hear that little voice inside my head. That voice that truly believes I can do anything- that voice will be yours.
Change is good.
Now this lesson was learned more from watching you and learning from your actions. I don’t even think you realize how well you have embraced change daddy- but you have and it’s an amazing lesson to learn from.
Remember when: you used to be so Type A you had to stand by the airport ticket counter 30 minutes before they were boarding, before there was even the beginning of a line?
Remember when: you used to be in such a hurry, I think you were convinced you should be a race car driver? Think driving to Talli for the football trip. Mom nagging you the whole time about slowing down and you bragging the whole time about what good time we were making.
Remember when: you would never cry in movies?
My, my, how things changed…
Once retirement set in you really seemed to look at life differently-more slowly and thoughtfully. You became a cool and relaxed traveler, a speed limit obeying driver, and a man who felt free to unleash some tears when the moment called for that.
Daddy you have taught me that no matter how old we are we can all change, and for the better. Through my 27 years of knowing you, you have only gotten better and better. Here’s to us all learning from that kind of role model.
Love
Ever since I can remember daddy we have been trying to quantify our love for one another. First it was with outstretched arms. Then it was with our 2 hand squeezes, which changed to 3. After that it was every night when you tucked me in, I would try to use my lame math skills to beat you in our infinity and beyond matches. And in the end we would still try with our “I love you more thans…”
I feel so unbelievably lucky to have had such a strong father figure who still understands the importance of hugs and kisses, the importance of love. This I carry with me everyday, with my sister, my mother, my friends and loved one. This is the gift that keeps on giving- this gift of love.
The power of a strong marriage
Daddy you have taught me what I want in a husband and in a marriage. This is something that is so rare, something so few of my peers are lucky enough to have had the opportunity to see and learn from first hand through example. You have taught me that a man should be my other half, not my better half. You have taught me that compromise is mandatory (which is a hard lesson learned in this stubborn family). You have taught me it’s about working from each other’s strengths, and moving past each other’s weaknesses. You have taught me that marriage isn’t easy but the more you work at it, the better it gets. You have taught me that mutual respect is imperative in any successful relationship. You have taught me that together two people are so much better than one. You have taught me that a good marriage equals good parents.
I only hope that Leigh and I can emulate half the life you and mommy have created. That would be more than enough.
Appreciation
Ok, now it’s hard to say which lesson is the best or most important but it just might be this one. Because this lesson is the most difficult to teach- this lesson is really the gift of life.
Daddy when I think back to the fact that each year for Christmas you got a single orange it just blows my mind. In the end, not only did you build a life where you could afford to buy yourself (and your loved ones) anything we wanted for Christmas you created such a full life- overflowing with experiences, memories and love.
Maybe it’s because you grew up poor, or because you worked so hard for it all, or because you had a few too many health scares, but I think the best lesson you’ve taught me is that life is precious. We are only given this gift once and we don’t know how long it will last so we have to live it to the fullest and remind ourselves DAILY how truly lucky we are.
I feel so privileged, honored and just down right lucky to have had you as a father. You have taught me so many thing- you have given me all you have to give and there really are no words to suffice.
You are THE BEST DADDY any girl could have had! And what more could one person ask for right?
Well there’s more….
Not only did I have the best daddy in the whole world, I also have the best mommy, the best sisters and brothers and the best soon-to-be husband.
We will miss you more than any of us are prepared for daddy but we will get through it and we will ALWAYS be thankful and appreciative of all the laughs, cries, smirks, hugs, kisses, giggles, and countless memories we have created together.
I love you more than the deepest earth, more than the highest heavens. I love you and will love you for all of eternity.
Daddy’s Quilt
by Marissa Clara Perry
How do you describe a man who lived a hundred lives in a single lifetime?
I try to imagine the fabric of my father’s life: a strange and beautiful patchwork—countless squares made of a thousand different materials, some common, others rare, but all of them stitched together across the decades in a way that may have appeared haphazard at times but, in the end, came together to create a pattern for the most elegant and inspired life.
Here are the squares of his quilt as I see them.
My father as a boy—
A paper-boy. A telegram-deliverer. A whistler, a marble-collector, a movie-watcher. He is skinny, skinnier than we can imagine, and very very poor. He rides a bike without handlebars and steers with the weight of his body. He’s a show-off. He’s a mischief-maker. He cleans the bottom of the family’s chicken coop—a chore he hates and never quite gets over. And in the summertime, he goes with some boys down to the creek—shooting frogs with rifles in hopes of getting the legs as a tasty treat. But there’s never much left of the frogs. He’s a good friend. He’s a big brother and eldest son.
As a kid he enrolls himself in school. He tries to get a library card, but the librarian tells him his hands are too dirty. He goes home and washes them. He comes back and gets his library card.. He’s a big reader: Flash Gordon and pulp fiction, dime-store novels with their damsels in distress.
In high school, he plays basketball and softball and gets a tattoo. He stars in Death of a Salesman and Life with Father. He borrows a jacket for his senior picture because he doesn’t own one—a moment tinged with a certain shame he’ll remember for the rest of his life. He graduates from high school, the first in his family to do so. He dates Miss Carnation for a while and then enlists in the Navy, figuring it’s safer to choose than be drafted.
So he becomes a sailor—a hospital corpsman and poker-player. He sees war in Korea. He learns to sleep in cramped and pitch-black spaces. He begins to see that the officers on the ship are guys like him, no better, no richer, no smarter, and they’ve all gone to college. It is as though a door is drawn in his mind, a door that opens upon a world of unimagined possibility, of places he never thought he might have the credentials or capacity to inhabit, but there is that door and here is the Navy giving him the key. He could be somebody. And why not?
So after the service, my father goes to junior college in St. Petersburg and, after two years, moves to Tallahassee to become a Seminole. Between classes and during the summers he works various jobs. A bread deliveryman. A Xerox-machine salesman. An insurance salesman and debt-collector. He marries young—eloping with a beautiful girl named Doris. He’s a husband and, fairly soon after, a father to daughters and sons.
This is my father as a young man: a student, a graduate, a doctor. A teacher, a researcher, a father of four, and, eventually, some years later, chair of the Department of Clinical and Health Psychology at the University of Florida—a position he never even dreamed of as a kid or even knew existed.
He is forty-six when he falls in love with my mother, Suzanne, and breaks some hearts to make others whole. He likes bourbon. He loves cars. He buys jaguars that perpetually break down or catch fire, but he is middle-aged and in love and wants to spend his money. He has thick beautiful hair. He reads the newspaper religiously even though he’s allergic to the ragweed in the pulp.
Over the next decades, he will set foot on five continents and raise two more daughters. He will tend a garden and fatten koi, sweating in his straw wide-brimmed hat and cutting himself on the thorns of roses. At night, on the back porch of his house in Archer, he will sit in his white wooden Adirondack chair and listen to the sound of the water fountain he’s built, thinking to himself, This is a wonderful life. He will do the same years later on an old rotting dock in Tallahassee, overlooking Lake Jackson and watching the sunset with my mother, my sister, and me. He will feel the roots inside of himself deepen and grow, lengthening from the orbs of his eyes to the pads of his toes, knowing that these are the roots of love, that this is the unbelievably beautiful blossom of his life.
My father is, in the end, a quintessential American. He is the embodiment of that gilded idealized dream: to come from so little and become so much, through hard work and determination and, as my father would be sure to add, through the blind but merciful grace of pure dumb luck.
In the founding document of this country, Thomas Jefferson wrote of self-evident human truths: “that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” My father’s life was more full than he ever imagined it would be. If you step back from the quilt on the wall, and look all at once at the squares and colors and patterns it creates, this is the overwhelming impression: his was a life well-lived. He was a happy man.
