Harry Cohn, Jr.
Portola Valley, CA
May 25, 1930-Aug. 28, 2012
By Kendra Cohn
Harry Cohn was a cowboy. If ever a man gave Roy and Gene a run for their money, it may have been him. Although he was not known as a crooner, his dark hair, olive skin, and piercing blue eyes made many, many women swoon. Born and raised around San Francisco, Calif., Harry went into the army right after high school. At 21, he came home and married for the first of three times. He had two children, Paula and Ed, and raised them to appreciate good horses and Italian cooking. Harry made his living as a carpenter, but was very involved in the equine industry. Harry was a team roper and a darn good one. Possibly this was best reflected by his winning the Oakdale 10 Steer many years ago. He also trained and showed state champion cutting horses. He even became a breeder, whose lines turned out multiple champions in various events. In these ways, Harry kept himself busy enjoying what life had to offer him.
In the late 1970s Harry sold his ranch in Portola Valley to his son, Ed. This “retired” man then spent decades going every day to the Stanford golf course. He would work in the morning and golf after work with Stanford’s golf pro, Larry O’Neill. The two would become lifelong friends. Still living on the ranch, Harry enjoyed a long retirement with family and friends close by. Not only could he could look out his window and watch the horses, but he always had a dog and a cat for company. And make no mistake; Harry didn’t let something like being a senior citizen keep him from charming the ladies. Harry Cohn enjoyed life to its fullest. He liked to indulge and play and had little concern for other people’s approval. Harry sadly took ill with pneumonia in August, and he died peacefully at home with his family around him at the age of 82. He is survived by his two children, five grandchildren and even a few great grandchildren.
I know that the Ten Commandments and Gene Autry’s Cowboy Code both say to respect our parents. It’s a good idea with elders in general. So with all due respect, Grandpa, I have to say that you didn’t know everything. Please don’t think less of me when I say that I hope you were wrong about there being no heaven. Because when I think about you now I picture you there, with a pretty girl (on each arm) and a good-looking horse tied to the hitching rack. Just hang out and have a drink until the rest of us get there.