Lord Ioseph of Ithiel, mka Rob Cohen, was born October 2, 1969 in New
York. He resided in North Miami, FL, while attending the University of
Miami, pre-law. Rob was only 28 when he passed from us tragically
during an event at Greynolds Park on January 27, 1997. He was a much
loved member of the shire of Southkeep, and had been squired to Khan
Wulfhere, the Lion of Persia, in April of 1995. He was known as "Brother
Joe" to his squire brothers and sisters.
I remember watching Rob make his first attempt at armor, which was
constructed of carpet, and was with him during many versions of armor to
follow, up to and including his war-skirt. I helped him make greaves,
cuisses, and elbows. He made a viking chair for me that I still have
and use, painting my device on it for me. I was at Wewa when he
received his AOA from Duke Baldar. He carried my favor on his belt, the
only one he wore, and he frequently carried my shield in battle. He
was carrying it in his last battle, and for all intents and purposes, he
took his last conscious breath in my arms.
We had planned to attend U of M in September of 1997, he for Law, and
me for Medicine. We rode together frequently to events and fighter
practice, and we usually laughed the whole way, as he regaled me with
truly terrible jokes, shared Jimmy Buffet songs, and treated me to a
yodelling version of a mutual friend performing the theme song to the
show "Oklahoma". We shared a love of varied music, including Celine
Dion, and we used the song "Fly", that she wrote, at his memorial. We
also shared a love of history, good chocolate, and he was teaching me to
brew as I taught him to sew.
I wrote two poems for him, shown below. It was so ironic that the
same day I won Poet Laureate with his poem, Khan Wulfhere won Crown
Lyst. He would have been bursting with pride. I believe that even
though he was not there in physical form, he was there in spirit.
Even now, more than 11 years after he left us, I can still feel his
presence occasionally, especially after I have written another poem. He
was a great supporter of the bardic arts, and a wonderful fighter and
champion. I truly believe he would have one day won Crown. He was a big
teddy bear of a man, with an even bigger heart. I miss him.
Ioseph, Love always, your Katya
Only the Soaring Eagles
by
Lady Katya von Schwarzwald
There is a soul among the stars that flew away so fast,
And only
the soaring eagles saw his life essence go past.
There is a soul that swoops and glides on wings we cannot see,
And
only the soaring eagles can watch his heart fly free.
That heart is tied to earth no more, that soul has journeyed on,
Among
the soaring eagles, to seek eternal dawn.
The soul was good, and strong, and fair, the heart was big, and
right,
And only the soaring eagles saw him fly into the light.
But he has not left us, be assured, his memory will not fade,
For
he IS a soaring eagle, the BEST that God has made.
(Written for Lord Ioseph of Ithiel, and used at his memorial on
February 15th, 1997)
I Have to Leave
by Lady Katya von
Schwarzwald
"I have to leave," the warrior said, "to fight a vicious foe!
I do
not wish to part from thee, but duty tells me go!"
The troops were massed upon the field, the call to arms was heard,
And
his great heart was breaking as he spoke his parting word.
"I must away," the warrior said, "I hear the trumpet's call!
I
must do battle on this day, and watch my enemy fall!"
The arrows were flying sure and straight, the swords clashed as they
met,
But he had to tell her one more time that he left her with
regret.
"I have to leave," the warrior said, and slowly turned away,
His
unseen foe struck him hard and fast, and on the ground he lay.
The sounds of battle surged around as she ran to give him aid,
She
knelt beside him on the rocks, and silently, she prayed.
"Please, do not leave!" the woman cried, and cradled his still form,
She
gently held him while he died, and her tears flowed swift and warm.
The battle raged as she knelt with him upon the rocky keep,
His
body nestled in her arms, as he lay in final sleep.
"He had to leave," she told his kin, as they gathered all around,
"His
duty called him onward, and he heard the clarion sound!"
The battle ceased, the swords grew still, the arrows did not fly,
The
warriors gathered 'round the keep, to say one last goodbye.
"He had to leave," she told the crowds that massed upon the wall,
"He
did not wish to go from us, but heard his destiny call!"
They buried him not far away from where he fell, that day,
and
there are those who say that he is still there, in a way.
"I will not leave," he seems to say when you look into the sky,
and
watch a soaring eagle as he spreads his wings to fly.
(Written August 15th, 1997, and winner of Poet Laureate, November
15th, 1997)
