Editor’s Note: The following reflection comes from John Perry, writer and videographer for AAGD, who speaks from the heart as he honors a milestone moment for publisher Debert Cook. With her induction into the National Black Golf Hall of Fame approaching, Perry shares his admiration, gratitude, and deep respect for the remarkable journey that has led her to this recognition. His words capture not only the significance of this honor but also the personal impact Debert has had on his life and on so many others within the golf community.
Girlfriend, what can I say? Ever since I met you some 17 years ago, you’ve been helping me along my way. As I remember, it was at Medgar Evers College in Brooklyn during a Black Golf Expo. There were multiple Black vendors and Jim Thorpe the pro, and Ginger Howard was there as well. The event seemed to be the beginning of something special—I could tell.
I even remember our good friend Susan Wasser from the USGA Museum in Far Hills, New Jersey. That afternoon left a lasting impression. From then on, I was at “Blacks in Golf.” Mercy!
Thanks, Debert, for inviting me in and becoming a friend. I cherish our relationship from then until the very end.
It is my honor and privilege to have known you, and your induction into the National Black Golf Hall of Fame couldn’t be more deserving for someone like yourself. You’ve empowered me and hundreds of others in our pursuit of covering this great sport of golf and showcasing what people of color are doing—and have always been doing—in this game that we love and play. This game is addictive, and I’m proud to call myself a “golf addict.”
I’m 76 years old, and I’ve been playing since I was a 10-year-old kid in small-town USA, Henderson, North Carolina. As a former caddy, learning to play golf was a byproduct of trying to make a living—more like necessity being the mother of invention.
Debert, no one is more deserving of this induction than you. No one has sent the elevator back down more times than you. No one has passed the baton more than you. No one has shared the stage more often than you. All I can say is that you have one of the strongest ropes I know—you keep sending it down, bringing other people up, and it hasn’t broken in 22 years yet.
Keep doing what you’re doing, fighting the good fight. We love you for it. You bet—you’re damn right.
See you in January.
