Robert Jordan was an author of fantasy fiction, and an author I mentioned in the earlier Tolkien confession. I first discovered Mr. Jordan's books when I was perusing the shelves of my local bookstore in early 1990. I was in the middle of a new generation of Ohmsfords, having just finished Brooks’ latest offering, when I saw high upon the top shelf, where was kept the over sized tombs, a blue covered book with people on horseback and in the background a large full moon. I pulled the book down and inspected the cover noting the lined, hard face of one rider, and the soft curves of another. I was instantly enchanted. I peeked inside to see, for me, the prerequisite map filled with new places to explore and lands to behold, kingdoms to adventure in and royalty to which knee would be bent. I bought this new book, yes, judging it by its cover!
I took my new purchase home, and to be honest with you, it went right on to the shelf where it stayed for a few months. It was the spring of 1990, I had just turned twenty-two years old in January, I had been married a total of seven months, my wife and I were expecting a baby in two months, and I was still trying to finish my undergrad degree. I was a busy young man. Then one day I found myself not traipsing through Middle Earth, and no longer among the Ohmsfords, but wanting high adventure. So I picked up my Robert Jordan purchase off of the shelf, and almost immediately I was spellbound by Mr. Jordan’s writing. The description of the landscape was awe inspiring and the build up of characters made each one seem a friend or foe as the case may be. I was turning page after glorious page finally finding someone who approached the greatness of the master, Tolkien himself.
The book ended much to my dismay, and it certainly left me salivating for more. I was not disappointed long, for another book came out. Then another and another. And so on it went year after year topping the NY Times best selling list each time. Book eleven was published and released in 2005, with the promise of one final, sweeping, epic book to be released some time in the future.
By this time (2007) I had gone from being a newlywed, expectant father of twenty-two, to being a husband of eighteen years, a father of a two (17 and 15) and I was now thirty-nine and no longer a student but the holder of a Masters’ degree and the pastor of a Lutheran Church in west-central Minnesota. I had just returned from a pastors’ conference in northern Minnesota and was catching up on my emails when I ran across the subject heading from my best friend Eric. It read, “Oh no!” I quickly opened it up to see what unfortunate news I was going to find. Eric had read in the paper that Robert Jordan had died and he wanted to know if I was aware of this.
I was stunned, but had expected this news might come. Mr. Jordan had said on his blog some months or even years ago that he had been diagnosed with a rare disease called amyloidosis. He assured his readers he was going to overcome this rare and life threatening disease and for some time “fought the good fight.” However, in the end the disease had its way with him. He died on September 16 and is survived by a wife and a son and millions of fans.
I will never forget the way in which Mr. Jordan’s writing touched my life and the lives of so many others. It gave me another place to go and wander in the fields and among the trees of yet another land that was only in the mind of the writer and his readers. It was a great journey.
I once had the opportunity and the pleasure of meeting Mr. Jordan and let me say it was a wonderful experience. He made me feel welcome and comfortable, putting me at ease as I met one of my heroes. He was amiable and genuine, exactly the way I pictured him. He had a hearty laugh and loved to spin the webs of his tales like a spider working on the intricacy of its home. Another great journey.
Mr. Jordan spoke of his wife Harriet carrying on his writing and finishing the tale that his readers longed to hear. I am happy of this, but it will not be the same as if Jordan had done it himself. Mr. Jordan was a Christian and as I am too, I hope to hear the end of the tale in person some day.
Rest in the Creator’s embrace my friend.
The Friar
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