James Howard Cohn

Survived by his wife Pamela Martin, daughter Elizabeth Cohn-Martin, son Nicholas Cohn-Martin (Anna Olsen), grandson James Olsen Cohn, brothers Perry Cohn (Betsy) and Richard Cohn, sister and brother in law Melissa Martin and Michael McKinley, nieces Rachel Martin, Zaidy (James) Rivera, Ilana (Michael) Guardalabene, Schuyler McKinley, grand nieces and nephews, and many loving cousins.

Originally, he was first Jam, not James!

Middle child of three boys born to Pauline and Louie Cohn of Milwaukee. Inevitably an attention getter, a strong student, a troublemaker at times. Habonim summer camps, Hebrew immersion amid progressive politics. A boy scout, a fire tender, a card player.

A Milwaukee PurGolder, an alum of loud and noisy Washington High.

Finally, Madison, known then, fondly, as Madtown, and mad it could be.

Founding member of The Ritz (the stories to tell!), undergraduate degree in anthropology, great friends, some here now, among us still.

On to University of Chicago, to study Evolutionary Biology. Three interesting but lonely years resulting in a MS. Return to Madison, enter its School of Medicine. Ah, a better fit!

Four years of intense work. Supervisor at Common Market food coop, and there met his future bride, Pam, strawberry blonde hair cut as short as she could pull off, herself a coop member and future lawyer. He—black hair streaming down his back, or tied into a thick pony tail, mustached, heavy glasses—and she, a study in contrasts.

Loved to bike the back roads of Wisconsin, to travel, hike, and camp.

Residency at the Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago (now Shirley Ryan Institute). There to learn how to mend broken bodies and damaged brains. A feather in his cap that took him to the best in his field, and into the city to which Pam had returned to practice law.

Married love of his life, produced two beautiful children, Lizzie and Nick, the pride in his steps. Devoted husband, father, and son, brother to Perry and Richard, friend to many.

Christ Hospital, Lutheran General, years as medical director of LakeView NeuroRehab in Waterford, Wisconsin. A team player, a quiet ego. Loved and respected by those he worked with, and those who worked under him. Awards from brain injury societies.

Like Pam, he loved plants. A good gardener, a rare plant monitor, a dune tracker. Happy in kitchens, an excellent cook. A t’ai chi player for years. A summertime baseball fan. A deep reader. Darwin, Chabon, Oliver Sachs, Yuval Harari.

Fluid, changeable, mercurial. Flipped between others and retreat. Curious, a good traveler, roadside searcher for Cypripediums. Droll and subtle, loved word play. Little interest in traditional religion, but who knew, an early follower of the “Church of the SubGenius”, a staunch advocate of “slack”! A (tired) advocate of a room filled with recliners!

Avid follower of The Who, Captain Beefheart, and Beethoven. Equally at home at The 602 in Madison and Orchestra Hall in Chicago.

Retirement resisted, then welcomed; time and travel desired. Sadly, not to be had, illness intervened. Which he handled as he’d lived, a day at a time, with quiet and determined steps, kindness and bravery.