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When Robert Plant and Jimmy Page entered the chapel, a ripple of recognition and awe swept through the mourners — two titans of rock, arriving not as legends, but as grieving brothers. Jimmy carried his guitar like a relic, his fingers resting on the strings as though it, too, felt the weight of the moment. Robert stepped to the microphone, his golden curls now silvered with time, and said softly, “We came here for Ozzy… because without him, none of us would have had the courage to be who we were.” Then Jimmy began to play — a slow, mournful riff that bled into the room like an open wound — and Robert followed, his voice still carrying that wild, soaring power, but now tempered with heartbreak. Together, they performed a stripped-down tribute, a haunting mix of blues and lament that felt like a conversation between two old friends and the one they had lost. When the final chord rang out, Robert placed a hand on the casket and whispered, “You’ll always be with us, brother.” The room stayed silent, suspended in the echo of rock and grief intertwined..

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When Robert Plant and Jimmy Page entered the chapel, a ripple of recognition and awe swept through the mourners — two titans of rock, arriving

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