In Memory of

Harold

"Hal"

Cohen

Condolences

Condolence From: Chris & Val Reynolds
Condolence: Laureen, Me and Val are deeply saddened with the news of Hal's passing. We learned of it on tuesday. We considered hal a great friend who never had a bad thing to say, and was a true gentleman. You are in our prayers during this difficult time. Please know we are here for you for whatever you need. God bless my friend hal, rest in peace.
Thursday January 11, 2018
Condolence From: Alfred Muskett
Condolence: Sorry for your loss. You are in my thoughts and prayers. Al Muskett
Wednesday January 10, 2018
Condolence From: Lisa Press
Condolence: My son Robert Press was a student of Mr. Cohen's. I will post what my son said about him on his own Facebook page. If that is any indication of how much he made a difference in my son's life, I can just imagine how many other lives he touched. Thank you, Mr. Cohen, for helping shape my son into the great young man he is! He wrote: Hal Cohen is gone, and we are all worse for it. On June 23, 2003, we lost my grandfather. It was the second time I'd lost a grandparent in the month of June—the first being in fifth grade—and so it was the second time the final month of the school year was thrown into disarray. This time around, however, the academic necessity of finals were a factor. On my first day back, I was due to take my English final. It managed to stun me into silence when Mr. Cohen—he of the near endless snark and sarcasm, who never missed an opportunity to give me back every bit of the crap I was always quick to give him—dropped the act for just a minute to ask me, as our test packets were being handed down the rows, if I was okay. I was there, sure—but was I present? Grade school and high school have grown increasingly blurry over the past 13 years or so. Lots of moments I swore at the time I'd never be able to forget or live down have slipped away, likely never to return. Mr. Cohen checking in to make sure I was doing all right after losing my grandfather is one of those things I'll take with me forever. It was small, but it meant the world. More to the point, I'm never going to forget that moment because I'm never going to forget Mr. Cohen. Because I'm never going to stop writing—in one form or another—and among all of the teachers, professors, and mentors I've had the great pleasure of learning from over the years, I cannot for the life of me name one that had more of an impact on my confidence and my voice as a writer than he did. More than anybody else in those formative years it felt like he understood my potential with the written word, and he was more than happy to let me branch out with it, to explore and figure out not just what I wanted to say but how I wanted to say it. And like all my other teachers, he'd get frustrated with me when I was clearly rushing or not giving my all. Unlike all my other teachers, he was very open about it. He'd call me out on finishing a test too early—and when I'd get a 95 on it anyway, he'd point out that I'd left five points on the table by being a showoff and not taking my time. As an adult I recognize the importance of those moments, and I'm able to better understand where he was coming from. Teachers inhabit a state both enviable and unenviable, where every moment—every sentence, every action—could be monumental or even life-altering for any of the young minds in the room. Mr. Cohen understood that, as all great teachers must, and he acted accordingly. I regularly curse the contraption that is social media, but one of the things about it for which I am truly thankful is that it gave me an opportunity to reconnect with Mr. Cohen—to let him see how far my writing had come, and maybe even clue him in on the impact he'd made. When I started a new job a little over a month ago, one of the primary motivations for my move was simply being able to write prolifically again. This weekend, I'm working on speeches—honest-to-God speeches, the very thought makes me giddy—that are due Monday. I'm stressed about it, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. It's writing. And if it seems as though I've talked way, way too much about myself in what's meant to be a piece about Mr. Cohen, please understand: Without Mr. Cohen, I'm not terribly sure there's a Rob Press. Not this one, anyway. Not one that embraces writing and written expression as proudly and purely as this one does. I owe Mr. Cohen the world, because without him, my world may very well have become something far, far different. We've lost a friend, a guide, a mentor, a brilliant mind, a needle-sharp wit, and, incidentally, a heck of an actor. Hal Cohen is gone, and we are all worse for it.
Tuesday January 09, 2018
Condolence From: Rebecca (Wilson) Minnix
Condolence: Hal Cohen taught me so much during my years at EHT ('92). He awakened a love of theatre and creative writing in me. I was blessed to act in several of his productions. I've gone on to write, direct, and teach another generation in large part due to Mr. Cohen. I am so thankful I had a chance to know Mr Cohen, a great teacher who has influenced multiple generations of students and performers. He will be greatly missed! Love and prayers to his wife and family.
Monday January 08, 2018
Condolence From: Dannette Sauls Boulware
Condolence: Sending condolences and prayers to Harold's Family. God's Love and Blessings.
Monday January 08, 2018
Condolence From: Julie (Hartman) Young
Condolence: You were one of the best teachers I ever had. I cherish my memories of you; of your humor, your intelligence, your compassion. You were an inspiration to so many and will be dearly missed by all whose lives you touched.
Monday January 08, 2018
Condolence From: William Averette
Condolence: The thoughts of death was foreign to us while at Olney High. The brevity and sudden death must be exceptionally hard on the family. My sincere condolences. William
Monday January 08, 2018
Condolence From: Art Mckeown
Condolence: Hal is remembered fondly by his philly and Olney High friends. RIP my friend Art Mckeown HOS class of 1970
Sunday January 07, 2018