Bob Iden Obituary (1949 - 2024) - Seattle, Washington

Charles Robert “Bob” Iden passed away peacefully in Seattle on March 10, 2024, with his close friend of 50 years, Kathie Hammond of Berkeley, keeping a watchful vigil at his hospital bedside. As they both wished, he was not alone. Bob was 74. Bob, who had been ill for several months, died one day after being diagnosed with a rare form of incurable liver cancer that had spread from lung cancer he had two years earlier. He was predeceased by his parents and is survived by his family of choice – Kathie, his steadfast friend since high school, his dear Seattle friends, helpers and holiday hosts Caroline and Mike Ullmann, and many devoted students and friends. Bob was not a man who was easily forgotten, or that you wanted to forget. By choice, he largely led a contemplative and reflective life. Yet, he was gregarious, outspoken, and always willing to share his not always humble opinion about the topic of the day. He was a master craftsman, computer expert, home builder; an avid lover of the outdoors and the environment; an intrepid explorer, hiker, bicyclist and caver, as well as an accomplished sailor; a creative author and filmmaker; a keen observer of people and the world around him, a committed friend, and a Tai Chi sifu who studied with famous masters and had students and colleagues in Washington, Ohio, California, Oregon, Illinois, and New York. Bob studied Yang Taiji Quan with Grandmaster William C.C. Chen and Dr. Tao Ping Siang, and organized Master Chen’s West Coast workshops. He also had a long relationship with Sifu Andrew T. Dale in Washington state, helping Andy organize many Internal Arts Festivals as well as dojo retreats on the Oregon coast. An avid learner, Bob also studied Aikido and shared his subtle “push hands” in Tai Chi. At the time of his death, he was working with a group of students to record videos and create websites that would convey his unique philosophy melding neuroscience with internal arts. Bob could be grumpy and challenging but also thoughtful, kind and forgiving. Not easily labeled, Bob was a Renaissance man. He earned bachelor’s and master’s degrees in English from Ohio State University, built computers and specialized electronic equipment, conducted subatomic particle research at Argonne National Laboratory and wrote various computer programs, including for a major epidemiological study of miscarriages among women working in the semiconductor industry. He also wrote poetry, dabbled in acrylic painting, studied Zen philosophy and meditation, and posited a feminist perspective to Shakespeare’s “King Lear” for his master’s thesis. He sailed his boats from Maine to Lake Erie via the Hudson River and canals, and along the Inside Passage from Seattle to Alaska. He skied, both downhill and cross-country. As a teen, he cycled 75 miles a day on the Buckeye Odyssey bike trip through Ohio and explored the Norman-Bone cave connection in West Virginia when its very existence was in doubt, more than 55 years ago. Born June 1, 1949, in Charleston, West Virginia, Bob lived in Ohio and Texas before moving to Washington state in the mid-1990s to take a job with a software company. After leaving the high-tech industry, he spent many years buying, restoring and selling houses in the greater Seattle area. Bob took pleasure from the companionship of his dogs Riker and Lacey, and in finding the home of his dreams, building a deck, and sipping coffee while contemplating the beauty of the urban forest that was his backyard. Among his great loves were the Hubble and Webb photographs that so expand our view of the universe; among his great fears, the climate catastrophe he monitored with dread. In keeping with Bob’s world view, his body will be transformed into soil, a human composting process that will take several months to complete. Gatherings in his name are pending but for now, please commemorate Bob’s life as you see fit – whether with tai chi, a walk in the woods or by raising a glass of Coke or good red wine. Bob was well loved, and we will miss him greatly. Rest in peace, our friend.