By Gerald Stern
Bruce Coe died at his home in Lambertville on March 24 after a long illness, and those of us who knew him and loved him realize how extraordinary his presence was in our lives and how far-reaching and deep-felt was the affection we held for him.
His life was exemplary and deeply meaningful. After serving in the Army during the Korean War, Bruce joined a New York securities firm and for 20 years he was a successful investment banker, becoming a director and member of the Executive Committee of the firm for which he worked, Kidder Peabody. Then, in 1975, still in his early 40s, he retired from business to enter public service where he spent the rest of his life, indeed up until a year ago when his illness forced him to retire.
Bruce worked closely with five New Jersey governors, mostly connecting the business community with the state government, but also serving on various boards of public and private companies and, once, running for public office — in 1978 on the Republican ticket, for Congress. He lost this race, to an incumbent, and never ran again, but remained passionately concerned about political matters and deeply progressive in his thinking, moving to the left as the Republican party moved to the right, and becoming a leading supporter of U.S. Representative Rush Holt, a Democrat, and an enthusiastic backer, along with his wife Barbara, of the presidential candidacy of Barack Obama.
I am amazed at his accomplishments, his vision, his intelligence, and the warmth with which he approached the activities that mattered to him, but I am resisting the urge to write in detail about his extensive — really amazing — activities in the complex world where government and business interconnect, finally his specialty, because, in the short space allotted to me, I want to write about Bruce, the person, as I knew him, how we met and how he related to others. Suffice it to say that Bruce had been appointed by a governor and confirmed by the state Senate, for more positions than anyone in New Jersey history and that long after his “retirement” in 1996, he devoted much of his time to the non-profit sector, serving as trustee to various organizations concerned with tax reform, health, education, the future of New Jersey and the like.
I met Bruce, and his dear wife Barbara, in a bizarre search for a certain kind of wood flooring, after a tip from the manager of Niece Lumber, in Lambertville. Barbara says they were intrigued by the request, that I was wearing a beret, and that I was somewhat “exuberant.” They gave me the lumber, of course, and it’s installed on the second floor of my house. I think I almost loved them from the moment I saw them — Barbara with her calm intelligent eyes and Bruce with his wry, inquisitive, and wise manner. I saw in him at first a kind of reserve, which was, I quickly learned, merely a slight cloak for an immense sympathy and an openness that invited more contact, that was not judgmental and that adored the madly humorous side of our lives that the Buddha, in his reserve, would appreciate.
So many people have spoken of Bruce, in his work, as a conciliator, as one who accommodated different positions and was a consummate consensus builder. I want to suggest that this quality was endemic to his very character, and that it connected directly with his tolerance, his patience, his curiosity, his civility, and the respect — and affection — he had for others.
The friendship we had may seem a little peculiar, or unusual, to say the least. He, an investment banker, a politician, the president, for 14 years, of the New Jersey Business and Industry Association, the leading voice for business in Trenton, and me, a poet, scholar, professor, wanderer, and outsider, but we felt toward each other a bond that only grew in intensity the more we got to know each other. I never had a brother, though I had, and still have, many close friendships in the art and literature world, but I finally found that brother in Bruce Coe.
I truly loved him and I think he loved me. My thoughts go back to the many lovely meals we had together, he and Barbara, Anne Marie Macari and myself, and to the many heated conversations we had, often, but not always, about presidential politics, the latest news, and the latest gossip in our small city on the river. He was a truly kind, open, fair, optimistic person, and I learned from him.
My thoughts also go back to the terrible sadness we had when we discovered he had an inoperable brain cancer, to the devotion of Barbara, and the care she took to make him comfortable and, as much as possible, to help make his remaining months meaningful. At the end, he all but lost his powers of speech and we gathered very close to hear him and to be constantly amazed by his insights, and his unflagging humor. Anne Marie says that at the end he was a creature of pure love. He was its agent and its vehicle.
He will be missed by hundreds, those who were lucky to be close to him and those others, equally lucky, who knew him as a public figure. My sympathy goes out to his four children, Jeffrey, Matthew, Michelle Gourlay and Abigail Flanagan, to his step-daughter, Lisa Wittner, and to his 13 grandchildren.
A memorial service will be held at 2 p.m. on April 18 at The Presbyterian Church in Lawrenceville. All are welcome.
Gerald Stern is a chancellor of the Academy of American Poets and was the first Poet Laureate of New Jersey.

