As a former colleague of Eddie Cotter from 1985 to 1992 at The Evening Sentinel and a longtime friend, I was saddened to learn of his passing.
It is hard to imagine that one of the Valley’s all-time favorite sons is gone.
But his memory and legendary status will continue to live well into the 21st century.
Eddie was often affectionately referred to as “Mr. Derby” and “Mr Valley,” in part because he covered the Valley for so many years as a photojournalist; in part because he knew so many people in this community through his work and volunteer efforts, such as with the Derby Fire Department and as a founding father of the Storm Ambulance Corps.
But I believe this nickname was also earned because Eddie, in so many ways, was an embodiment of the Valley and exemplified its virtues, especially those of his era.
Yes, he sometimes had a gruff exterior, just as the Valley’s exterior had a rough edge to it as it was lined with factories during most of the 20th century.
But if you got off the highway, walked around and got to know the people of the Valley, you would see their generosity and sense of community.
The same was true of Eddie.
As you got to know him, you would find a heart of gold.
He gave of himself every single day — whether it was helping to put out a fire, rescuing someone from an accident or just assisting someone with a personal need.
His work ethic – day in and day out – typified that of Valley residents.
And just as the Valley communities would put aside their football rivalries and differences to pull together in a times of crises, Eddie would be the first person on the scene to help save the life of a person – any person — regardless of whether it was someone he may have just had words with or someone he considered a lifelong friend.
Eddie was a wonderful asset to have in the newsroom of The Evening Sentinel.
People know of his spectacular photos and his coverage of fires, accidents and police news.
And he was a wealth of institutional knowledge about the Valley and its history.
But what people may not know is that he was also a fearless advocate for the Valley inside the newsroom.
The paper — like so many across the country — became increasingly corporate-minded in the 1980s and early 1990s as it looked for ways to boost circulation and revenue through national studies and focus groups.
And while some of those suggestions had merit and were well-intentioned, there was also a growing temptation to overlook too many of the things that made The Sentinel a must-read community newspaper.
Sure, the new designs, quirky stories and the artistic, creative photos had their place.
But what outsiders sometimes did not understand is the Valley was not like other places in some respects. What perhaps could be applied generically to daily newspapers around the country would not necessarily sell well here. That didn’t make the Valley better or worse than any place else, just different.
And Eddie had a pulse for what so many people wanted — especially those who were middle-aged and senior citizens.
He reminded everyone of the traditions of the Valley — the types of stories and photos that so many Valley residents cared about. He made it known that people still wanted to see pictures of their kids, friends and neighbors.
Maybe the school banquets, the PTA presentations, the Cub Scout programs and the club dinners weren’t going to win awards, but they remained vital to The Sentinel’s success as the local paper.
And Eddie played an important role in helping to remind everyone of their importance. And I can assure you, Eddie was never afraid to convey his feelings to reporters, editors and even publishers.
I admired his tenacity, and as a fellow Derby native, I appreciated the perspective that he brought to the newsroom. And his efforts did help keep a balance between the new and the traditional.
The Sentinel newsroom of the 1980s and 90s was filled largely with young reporters, myself included. From time to time, the paper would award stories and photos of the week, month and year. The recognition was always appreciated.
Eddie’s photojournalist skills could have won him many of these awards. But whenever the paper tried to award him one of the prizes, he would quickly turn it down and tell the editor to give the award to “one of the kids.”
In the world of journalism, you don’t always see that kind of humility. But Eddie was a special person.
Good bye, my friend. You will be missed. God Bless.
Joe Musante is a former reporter with The Evening Sentinel (1985 to 1992) and later the Connecticut Post. He currently is a media relations specialist for Southern Connecticut State University.
More on the life of Edward J. Cotter, Jr:
A Derby Legend Passes
The Valley Remembers Edward J. Cotter, Jr.
Some of Ed Cotter’s Flood of 1955 photos
Ed Cotter’s indirect influence on the Valley Independent Sentinel
Obituary for Edward J. Cotter, Jr.
