Archive of Our Own

• Wedding invitation for Lucy Moran and Andrew Brennan, September 8th, 1991 at The Great Northern Lodge in Twin Peaks, WA. The invitation is for “Mr. Special Agent Cooper and a Guest” and promises to be “better than the mayor’s because we are only getting married once.” Handwritten on the invitation is a message that reads, “Agent Cooper, Andy said we didn’t need to send you an invitation because you were going to be Sheriff Truman’s guest and Sheriff Truman is already invited. I thought I’d send you one, just to be polite.”
• Birth announcement for Wally Brando M. Brennan, born July 14, 1992 to Andrew and Lucy Brennan. Tucked inside is a program for a christening where Harry S. Truman was named as godfather. 
• 1,306 copies of the Sunday edition of The Washington Post in various conditions.
• _{104 with a completed crossword puzzle.}
• _{One partially filled crossword puzzle with “It’s your turn,” written below.} 
• _{34 waterlogged editions.} 
• _{50 with the “Classifieds” section ripped out.} 
• _{One with every “J,” “U,” “D,” and “Y circled.} 
• _{Three with all contents removed except for articles about new research on owl migration.} 
• _{One edition with the headline “Gordon H. Coole named Deputy Director of the FBI” circled.} 
• Marriage announcement for Valerie S. Cooper and Edmond Atkinson.
•  Divorce announcement for Valerie S. Cooper and Edmond Atkinson. Handwritten on the announcement is a message that reads: “Turns out he was actually Nathaniel Essex (Mr. Sinister) in disguise. Do not ask.” 
• 300 utility bills in various conditions. 
• _{24 are marked as “past due.”} 
• _{Six are marked with “final notice.”} 
• Letter from Mr. Lawrence Rosenberg at Inland Property Management to Ms. D. Evans. The letter reads: 

“Dear Ms. Evans, 

Thank you for informing us that you have taken over rent and utilities at Unit 531. We apologize for the overdue notices and wish Mr. Cooper a quick recovery. Please fax subsequent payments to (215) XXX-XXX. 

Sincerely, Lawrence Rosenberg

 Inland Property Management, Philadelphia, PA” 

• Note that reads: “Cooper -- you owe me a fuck ton of back rent.” 
• 24 Christmas cards from the Brennan family in Twin Peaks, WA. 
• 24 Holiday cards from the Sheriff’s Department in Twin Peaks, WA. 
• Invoice for a four week stay at The Great Northern Hotel in Twin Peaks, WA. Additional charges on the invoice are for a glass of warm milk, carpet stain removal, and mirror repair. 
• Transcript from Twin Peaks High School for Audrey J. Horne. 
• Eight transcripts from the University of Washington for Audrey J. Horne. 
• Envelope containing a copy of a diploma from the University of Washington for Audrey J. Horne; an acceptance letter to the Federal Bureau of Investigation training program, addressed to Ms. Horne; and a note which reads, “It’s the first time I’ve ever tried my hardest at something. I hope you’re proud of me. Maybe one day I can be my own Special Agent. I think ‘Special Agent Horne’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you? Love, Audrey” 
•  Package containing three rolls of developed film. 
• The obituary section of the March 11th, 2007 edition of The Philadelphia Tribune. Amongst the obituaries is Paul F. Cooper. “He is survived by his three children Emmett, Dale, and Valerie Cooper” is underlined in black ink. In red ink, “three children” and “Dale” are crossed out. 
• Advertisement for an owl trowel. 
• Note that reads: “Cooper -- I didn’t mean it about the rent.” 
• Promotional coupon for Huckleberry Coffee. 
• Letter containing two newspaper clippings. The first headline reads: “‘Ex-Presidents’ Bank Robber Gang Apprehended by FBI.” The second headline reads: “Ohio: Serial Killer Known as ‘Buffalo Bill’ Apprehended by FBI.” On a piece of yellow legal pad paper, a note reads “Dead, wrapped in plastic. Caught, wrapped in rubber. Shot dead, dressed in women’s clothing. Not bad for the ‘Rookie Roster,’ eh Coop? I think Starling probably buys the first round though, a serial killer making a skin suit to look more like a woman?????? That takes the cake. I’ll be back in Baltimore in July before heading to Australia. Would love to see you. -- Utah” 
• Bill from the Philadelphia Public Library with “overdue” on the envelope.
• Note that reads: “Coop -- I resigned. I’m still paying your rent. Where are you?” 
• Letter from the Philadelphia Public Library with “final notice,” on the envelope.
• Graduation announcement for Donna M. Hayward, Summa Cum Laude, from Barnard College, May 10th, 1996. Attached is a letter which reads: 

 “Dear Special Agent Cooper, 

 

I am writing to you to request your presence at my graduation ceremony from Barnard College on May 10th. I hope you do not mind receiving this invitation at your personal address, rather than your office. I received this address from my sister my friend, Audrey Horne, whom I understand you are still in contact with, after your investigation into the murder of my best friend, Laura Palmer, and subsequent mysteries of Twin Peaks, WA. 

 

You left a profound impact on my life, Agent Cooper. It was because of your investigation that I decided to study psychology and social work, with an emphasis on trauma research and rape recovery, in school. I want to dedicate my life to making sure more girls like Laura do not become Laura. 

 

It would mean a lot to me if you could attend. Please write back, or call me at (347) XXX-XXXX. 

Fondly, 

Donna Hayward"

• Seven postcards sent from Columbia with no writing. 
• Note that reads: “I did move the clock.” 
• 200 editions of National Geographic (all waterlogged). 
• 52 editions of Time Magazine (none were waterlogged). 
• Package containing a copy of Clear and Present Danger by Tom Clancy. Attached to the cover is a note that reads, “You were right. I hated it. Spooky loved it though.” The note is signed with a drawing of a skull. 
• Note that reads: “Dale, Please come home. -- Diane.” 
• _{Note: These collections of notes do not have a corresponding envelope, are not dated, are weathered inconsistently, and with the exception of the last one, are not signed.} 
• Letter from Harry S. Truman, dated March 2015 that reads: 

“Coop, 

I tried calling the number on the card you left (I couldn’t believe I still had it), but the operator told me the line was disconnected. I tried calling the number you wrote down for your mysterious Diane, but, static. Then, I tried calling Albert, and Coop, if you remember me or our sleepy little town at all, you remember how low I had to stoop to call him. 

 

Albert informed me that you were on a deep undercover mission and that I was not to contact him or you, again. Glad to know time hasn’t softened that guy’s edges. I guess this “deep undercover mission” explains why you left so abruptly, and why I haven’t heard from you since. I still tried to look you up in the yellow pages, (I can’t imagine those still exist in your Washington, but we still have them in mine), but there was no “Dale B. Cooper” listed. I guess this mission of yours is so top secret you don’t even exist anymore, huh? But then Lucy told me she sends you a Christmas card and an office Holiday card every year, so if I wanted your address I could have just asked her. Figures. 

 

Coop, I wish I could say that the brief time we knew each other, was just a blip in my life, and that I haven’t felt your absence, needed to know why you left, laid awake thinking about you, missed you, but that would be a lie. You were are my friend, and Twin Peaks looks after their own. Or we try to at least. It becomes really fucking hard when our own abandons us out of the blue with no warning.  

 

It’s been twenty five years since you left. I say “left” because it’s an easier word than “disappeared.” I used to think people don’t disappear -- they just abandon -- but after the Palmer case, and what you showed me, Coop, I’m not sure about that anymore. Sometimes I think “disappeared” might be the only word for what you did though, since no one has heard from you since. 

 

When she gave me your address, Lucy mentioned that she’d never gotten a Christmas card back from you. Andy also reminded me that you did not attend their wedding either as my guest or on your own invitation. I’m not sure why he thought you and I would be attending together. 

 

It was a nice wedding, if you were wondering. 

 

Sometimes I think there are “sightings” of you, like Bigfoot. Do you remember when you asked me if Bigfoot was real? Wally -- that’s Andy and Lucy’s son, and my godson -- helped me set up some kind of alert on my cell phone for John Does that match your description and another one for your name. Don’t ask me how the kid did it. He might have done it wrong for all I know, because nothing’s ever come up. Wally’s a good kid. Weird. But good. I think you might have liked him. 

 

I used to like to sit out on my porch and look out into the forest as if you would suddenly appear and ask me if the coffee was ready or tell me about some strange dream you had. What I wouldn’t give to hear about another dream where you’re stuck in some room with repeating floor tiles, and men who talk backwards. What I wouldn’t give to hear your voice again. 

 

Look at me, prattling on like I’m Big Ed writing to Norma back in high school. Truth is Coop -- I want need miss lo 

 

The truth is. Over the years, I thought about writing, or taking a big sabbatical and telling Albert to go shove it and I’ll go find you myself. “Top Secret Undercover Mission” be damned. But I never did. And I regret that. 

 

Now, I need to write to you. I don’t have a lot of time to keep waiting around. And here’s the real truth Cooper. 

 

I’m dying. 

 

Stage four. Doc Hayward says I’ve got eighteen months, maybe, if I stay on the straight and narrow. I’ve had to retire from the Sheriff’s office, obviously. Although Lucy and Andy and the like keep calling me ‘Sheriff’. Hawk’s been named interim until my brother Frank can get his affairs in order down in Oregon so that he can come back home. So now I’m getting my affairs in order. 

 

I want need lo would like to see you again, Coop. Just once before I die. If I ever meant anything to you was ever your friend, you would do that for me.

 

 We could smell the fresh forest air, gaze upon the Douglas Firs, and drink some of that “black as the moonless night” coffee you always love. Indulge a dying man. 

Lo Your Friend, 

Harry”  

• _{Note: This last letter is marked “Recipient Not Found. Return to Sender.”}