Isabel Catherine Woolley

Isabel Catherine Woolley, 92, of New Rochelle, NY, left us peacefully in the early morning hours of January 28th. A beloved wife, mother, and grandmother, Isabel, or “Snookie,” will always be remembered for her breathy poetry readings and provocative nature. 

Born on April 3, 1932, in Brooklyn, NY, Isabel grew up the only daughter of Nathaniel and Isabel Rickert and sister to brother William. She graduated from Bay Ridge High School and attended Brooklyn College. She worked in New York City at advertising agency Cunningham and Walsh, where she met her first husband, Gerard Marzulli, and raised two boys. In her free time she loved exploring museums, especially the Metropolitan.

 An accomplished poet, under the pen name Isabel Nathaniel, her poems appeared widely in magazines, including Poetry, The Nation, Field, Ploughshares, and Prairie Schooner. Among her honors were a “Discovery”/ The Nation Prize and the Robert H. Winner Award, Gertrude B. Claytor Award, and two Cecil Hemley Awards from the Poetry Society of America. Her collection, The Dominion of Lights, was winner of the Texas Institute of Letters Best Book of Poetry in 1996.

 Isabel is survived by her son, Chris Marzulli (Mary Mo), grandchildren Jerry, Christopher and Kelly; brother William Rickert (Anna Marie); nephew Billy Rickert (Ginny), grandnieces Jennifer (Keith) and April; step-sons Ted (Kim) and Pat (Debbie) Woolley, step-grandchildren Samantha, Jordan and Benjamin. She was preceded in death by her husband, Bryan Woolley of Texas, and her son Jerry John Marzulli II. 

Isabel studied birds, with a particular fascination in observing crows. A recent poem discovered in a folder of her notes included the following work: 

The Maple Tree

 There is a crow screaming in the Maple tree. Caw, caw. Harsh caws—a language that suits me now. I am that crow somewhere in the tree or above the tree, maybe on the power lines. There must be two crows. Mates. Is the male the show-off with those acrobatic leaps to the power line? It’s crow-play. Mates play that way, together display their squarks, coos, clicks, snaps, rattles, cackles. They’re so good at wisecracks. I want to be a crow now. 

-Isabel Nathaniel