Karl Redstone

A Great Loss

I received this email on Sunday 10/01/06.

Good Citizen's of our most fair Barony,

It is with such a heavy heart that I greet you this morning with the news that a short while ago I received a call from the site of Banner War, and that Dragon's Laire and An Tir has lost a great friend. Last night at Banner War, HL Karl Redstone fell ill and passed from us all. A senior constable, a ferocious fighter, and one of the kindest and gentlest of men, Karl will be so sorely missed.

Many times over the years, I have called on Karl to act as Constable in Charge of an event, or to be there to help. The answer was always the same, "Aye Lass, I'll be there for ye." And he always was, displaying his great joy of life and the SCA and using his amazing ability to walk into any situation de-escalating the drama and treating calmly and fairly all with whom he dealt.

Please remember as we all grapple to cope with this sudden loss to send thoughts and prayers to his beloved wife HL Shaughnessy, as she deals with her even greater loss.

Cedric and Brighid

I know this is a terrible loss to all of us. Any who are able, please support HL Shaughnessy in any way possible. Please add to this page if you have more information.

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I have just heard the news here all the way in England and my heart grieves for a friend that will be missed.

I remember Karl Redstone who rescued me at a Banner war over ten years ago. I was tentless and a distraught youngster then or Lass as he referred me as. He took me into his encampment and found me a dry surface to place my sleeping attire in a spare tent.

Later that evening I overheard the discussion of my presence being unwelcome in his encampment by another and rather then complicate matters for Karl, I slipped away with my things even more distraught and slowly being drowned by the rain.

He was furious with me when he discovered I was gone. He hunted the entire site looking for me and found me with the not yet formed House Gremlins. There were only three of the guys there. He berated me greatly and said under no argument I was to get back to that encampment.

Over the years when I was around in Antir much more than the last 11 years, Karl and his household made me welcome at their fires. Sharing songs and stories with a distraught little person like me. He still collected people up along the years and watched out for us all.

I honour Karl and his lady.

Katell of Ifield 'aka Kitty'

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This photo was taken just before the first battle of this year's Banner War. Our household was fighting with Karl and this is taken from the group photo. We will all miss him.

Muireann inghean ui Rodain

Company of St. Ulrich

Glymm Mere

http://www.hubbardhollow.com/Karl.jpg

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From Stanton MacLlyr, merchant, bard, fighter and friend. I have known Karl for many years, and have many fond memories of him that I will cherish forever. Right after I heard about his passing, this is what came to mind. Karl, and his Lady Shaugnessy have both remarked on many occasions that they liked my stories (just not my singing :), so I thought I'd add this. Rest well, Karl, for you have earned it my friend.....

Leaving the battlefield, annoyed at his shortness of breath and feeling tired, is a man short of stature but broad of shoulder and heavily bearded. At his side, a drinking horn painted with a sword point down on a red and black shield. He is feeling poorly, and is doubly annoyed at missing the fighting on the war field. He lies down, after telling his concerned friends and family that he’ll be fine after he rests a while.

Waking up from what was supposed to be a short nap, the man finds himself armored, bearing 2 swords, standing on the Bifrost Bridge. Behind him, he sees only swirling mists, but he can hear many voices. Most of the voices are crying, and several are calling his name, but one voice stands out from the rest. It the clear, beautiful voice of a woman singing, in perfect pitch, a song he doesn’t recognize. He knows the voice belongs to his wife, and he can tell that the song is one of loss. He turns to return to her, to comfort her, but he finds he can’t go back. He turns away, and sees that ahead of him, Baldur is standing guard, motioning for him to cross the bridge.

“I am sorry to see you here so soon Karl Redstone, but know you are expected and will be welcomed into Valhalla. You have been a valiant warrior, a loving father and husband, and a loyal friend. All those who knew you will miss you, and your memory will not be forgotten. But now it is time for you to claim the final reward you have earned. Over there, beyond that gate, lies Valhalla. Syn guards that gate, and he lets none pass who have not earned the right through loyalty, courage, and honor, both on and off the battlefield.”

Not knowing what else to do, Karl walks to the gate, and indeed Syn stands before it, sword in hand. “Who are you that would pass into Valhalla” he asks, his voice booming out like thunder. “I am Karl Redstone, but I do not know how I came to be here.” At the mention of his name, Syn lowers his sword, and reads from the the scroll he holds in his free hand. “Karl Redstone, warrior in service to his country, as well as his kingdom. Guardian of the weak, defender of the just, well loved by friends and family, and respected by all who have crossed swords with you. Karl Redstone, last night, you lay down sickened, and your soul was plucked forth, and brought here by the Valkyries. Enter now, for the feast in your honor is just beginning. “

Shaking his head slowly, as if to figure out what was happening, Karl passes through the gates and enters a grand feast hall. The hall is huge, built of solid timbers intricately carved by master craftsmen, and seems ageless, as if it has stood here throughout the ages. The far corners are lost in shadows, but nearby a large fireplace burns cheerily. There are a great many people in the hall, and all of them seem to waiting for him. As he looks at individual faces for the first time, he realizes he knows many of these people. They are dear friends he has missed, and many brave and bold warriors. As he surveys the crowd, meeting the gazes of friends in all directions, a familiar voice asks “May I fill you horn, Father?” Karl turns to see his daughter, dressed as one of the Valkyries, holding a large pitcher of ale. She fills his horn as she says “I did not expect you so soon, but now we can spend some time together. But that will have to wait, for it is time for you to take your place among the heroes at the high table”. She leads him to the head of the hall, where a place of honor has been waiting for him. All of his favorite foods are waiting for him, along with kegs of ale and mead.

“My friends, I never expected any of this, and have not done anything to deserve this kind of recognition. This is all just too much for me.” Karl turns to leave, but his daughter gently pushes him into his seat. First one warrior, then others tell the tales of Karl Redstone. Tales of strength, not just of muscle, but of character. Tales of kindness, generosity and love. Tales of duty, honor and sound judgment. Tales from the tourney field and from the warfield. Tales from feasthall and Bardic circle. Tales of long nights as a constable, and long weekends as a merchant. The tales last well into the night, and by the time everyone has had a chance to speak, Karl has accepted his rightful place among the heroes of old. Never again will his joints ache, nor will a long day of fighting exhaust him. Now he shall spend his days fighting, and his old body will forever have the vigor of youth. His evenings will be spent feasting with the other heroes, and together they shall await the final battle of Ragnarok, when the world shall be destroyed, and then made anew.

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These are my memories of HL Sgt. Karl Redstone.

Sgt. Karl Redstone, beloved husband to HL Shaughnessy, a friend, a fellow sergeant, a fellow veteran, a fellow Norse, a someone who would lend a hand, a comforting word and a beer when need. Karl was always quick with a “No Sh*t, there I was” story, SCA or military. My earliest memories of meeting Karl were at an Egils in the 1980’s. I do not remember which Egils it was but it was at Fern Ridge Resevrvator in Oregon. I was amazed when he took off his wig. You see, Karl was in the Marine and could not wear his hair long for his Norse personae. Other memories are of him riding his trike, giving rides to the children.

One Blatha an Oir event, unknown lost in mist of time, a water squirt gun was handed. Children of all ages, some larger than others, rode around squirting the populace. Among the hapless victims of the said rampage was the esteemed Baroness Isabeau of BAO. She immediately evoked Baroness’ privilege and confiscated the said squirt gun. With Karl as her charioteer, Baroness Isabeau demonstrated her skill with the said pistolea among the populace, much to everyone’s enjoyment.

On the mundane side of life, Karl or Tony Burtis, was a Marine Sergeant during Vietnam. During the Saigon embressy evacuation in 1975, the last marine out of the embassy, the short little guy on the end, leaving was Karl or Sgt. Tony Burits.

During his Sargent’s trials, Karl was so sure that he failed. In fact his words were that he went down in flames. I had to keep reassuring him that was not the case. When Baroness Isabeau called him forth. his shocked look was something to behold. He later told me that the Sargent’s buckle was just about his proudest moment in the SCA.

Karl always provided a willing hand to anyone. I forgot my tent poles at this last June Fair. Without hesitation he offered the use of his second tent so I did not have to go back home for the poles. As a fellow merchant, he would often help us pack and load up our van.

Karl and Shaughnessy would often provide prizes for contests, a lot of times without any one asking for anything. His Renaissance personae of The Bridge Troll will be long remembered by many. His other personae fitted him very well. When he put on his Troll helmet, he was Gimli from Lord of the Rings. His mannerism, his garb and general demure was a joy to behold. Karl was a senior constable. His gentle ways and presence was a source of comfort and inspiration to the rest of the constablity and populace. He helped to promote the peace at many events, often defusing bad situations. He was a calm influence to many. I am quite sure there are many tales of his constablity. I will miss Karl, GREATLY. There is a big hole in heart for my brother. HL Yeoman Knut

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I had just left the K.C. Reneissance fair when I recieved the phone call about Karl. I had not known karl for near as long as many of you, but I felt his loss greatly none the less. A great man, I had more respect for him than almost anyone else I had ever met. At times when others had given up on me, and would have seen me rejected as opposed to given another chance, he helped me to better myself. When I needed armor to uphold my end of an illmade bargain, even though our bodily dimensions are vastly different, he was there smiling at the prospect of me in his armor. He always had a kind word, a warm heart, and a spot at the fire for anyone who needed it. When I quit drinking for some time, he was one of the few who didn't say "it won't last long" but instead he said "I am proud of you for trying, keep it up". In the short time I knew Karl, he weedled his way into my heart, and will always be there. The world needs more people like Karl, and the earth itself will miss him. He is with those of Valhalla, and one day when we too go, he will be there with a smile on his lips, a horn in his hand, another in the other for you, and shall toast us as we have toasted him, and he shall be the first to speak for us, with a heartfelt "You remember that time..."

-Ander the Oblivious (aka Spaz)

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It is indeed the saddest of news. I don't know of any in Clan Carn that didn't enjoy fighting with or against Karl. He was slow to anger and quick with a smile, took light shots but was a great fight. We always looked forward to House Redstone fielding a team at Banner War.

Shaughnessy, our thoughts are with you.

Michelino di Gino Martini

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My most dear and respected friends upon these lists, greetings from Sir Brand.

I am so very glad I was able to go to Banner War this last weekend. I got to see and salute my long time friend, Karl Redstone, with tribute to our friendship spoken and only the intent of its long continuance now altered.

I was asked to speak some, and sing some, when notice came in about the sorrowful turn of events on Saturday night. I was able to be there for my Protoge', Shaughnessey, later that night, as were many others. I am glad I was there.

On Sunday, it made me shed tears of joy to see and join so many (25, 50??) people after court as they helped load up her merchandise and encampment. I would be willing to guess it was never loaded that quickly before:-). I knew there were people going to drive her home, people to meet her in BaO, people to go with her to her next Events... This, this is what I love most about our Society. How we come together to help in times of need. Selflessly, constructively, sharing ourselves to help our fellow. This is the truth of why we can call this Home and why we can call ourselves a Family.

I commend all the notices here of remembrance and tribute. I would only ask you to add some steps to the oft said "Shaughnessey, if you have need, call me". Do not wait for that call. Take a few steps to her booth when she is there again (especially when setting up and tearing down) and offering a few minutes of schlepping, or to run errands, etc. Words and hugs are precious rubies. A lessening and sharing of the loads of life are diamonds. Do not wait until someone in grief calls you to act, be proactive, be supportive, be there for them when they are weakest and we all are strengthened by it. Be there, as you know Shaughnessey, and Karl, have been there for us a thousand, thousand times before, and as Shaunessey, and Karl's legacy, will be there again.

O', and one more thing. Never wait to tell someone you love them. Say it now. You can still say it again later, too, as well. They won't mind:-)

My thanks, Sir Brand.

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Gentle Lords and Ladies,

I don't post often to the list, but I pray you might indulge me a moment to share.

My lord Killian and I were devastated to receive news last Saturday night of Karl's crossing. From the day I met Karl (September Crown Tourney way back in 1990 - my second event) he always seemed one of those larger-than-life spirits that would just live forever, and in many respects I believe he always will. It's been a long time since we saw him last - far too long since we've evented at all for that matter - but in a way that absence only makes our memories all the more fond and all else seem trivial by comparison.

I will always remember the moment I first met Karl: A roguish bantam rooster in a kilt, with long sandy hair held back in a red scarf facing me across the field in one of my first-ever games of Clench-a-Wench. When the call came to start, Karl grinned like a pirate and with dramatic flourish doffed that long sandy wig like a cap and bowed deep in salute, which of course surprised me into laughter long enough for him to make very short work of the round (just as he'd planned)!

It was in fact that experience, followed by the rousing welcome I received at his camp later on that help solidify to me that the SCA was something I wanted very much to be a part of. Karl always had a gift for making even the greenest newbie feel welcome. Even now I think of that wonderfully lascivious grin and can't help but smile back for the love and laughter he brought to the household and our lives. And were it not for Redstone, I'd likely not have met my Beloved, so as we enter our 12th year of marriage I have cause to bless that first meeting with Karl all the more!

I remember giving Karl my first (and only) pickle barrel armor when I finally admitted to myself I didn't have it in me to be a hard suit fighter, knowing he would be able to put it to better use than I ever could. In a way, I suppose deep down I hoped that when he took the field in it I could live the fight vicariously even as I stayed to the side waterbearing.

I remember a gloriously dark and stormy night at Midhaven Yule way back when our son was still a wean, when Karl led a rousing chorus of "Hail Thor God of Thunder" as only Karl could. Lightning and thunder began to crash wildly outside, shaking the walls of the hall as the wind whipped whitecaps upon the lake, culminating in a hailstorm so strong and sudden in its fury as to blanket the ground in snow several inches thick - yet for some odd reason it only seemed to be in a mile or two radius of the hall when we returned to Oak Harbor that night...

And to this day I have never been able to (nor will I ever again) sing "The Ewok's Picnic" song without hearing Karl's rumbling voice chanting "yubba yubba" in the background! ;D

All these and many more are memories I treasure of my far too brief time of knowing Karl, and we have no doubt he is even now feasting loud and proud in Valhalla.

Our prayers remain with your lovely lady in your absence my Lord, as our horns are raised in your honor. You are most dearly missed.

Brightest Blessings,

Genevra de Brus

-- To Karl, with love (and with respectful apologies to Robert Burns for the verse edit)

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae farewell, and then forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and goans I'll wage thee.

Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him ?
Me. nae cheerful twinkle lights me,
Dark despair around benights me.

...Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met - or never parted -
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare-thee-weel, thou first and fairest!
Fare-thee-weel, thou best and dearest!
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, Enjoyment, Love and Pleasure!

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!
Ae farewell, alas, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

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• This gentle's name has been entered on the Scroll of Honor - An Tir Remembers and his name was read during the

Riderless Horse Ceremony, Crown Tournament, AS XLII.