Farewell, Jean

Within a two-minute time frame late yesterday afternoon, I received two notes letting me know that Jean Brown had passed away. I'd heard only hours earlier in the grocery store that she was fading quickly and that her family was gathering.

I also heard that, in spite of her declining health, Jean's robust sense of humor remained intact. While awake from a slumber, she reportedly said something to the effect of, "If I'd known so many people were coming, I would have had a guestbook."

Well, Jean, I'm sure your guestbook will need a few inserts over these next few days as your family, friends and fans---while bidding you adieu---remember how you touched each of them personally.

Jean Brown was a Sandpoint matriarch---not only to her loving, adoring family but also to the community of old-time Sandpoint. Jean's passing closes one more chapter in an era when virtually everyone in town knew the Brown's, and the Brown's knew their town.

Folks knew the Browns because Jean's husband had established the expansive Pack River Lumber Co., which employed a majority of Sandpoint residents at its area mills. The town also knew the Browns because of Schweitzer, which Jim Brown helped establish back in the early 1960s.

More importantly, than this domination of local industry, the town knew the Browns because of their generosity and their philanthropy, especially when it came to the church where they worshiped, St. Joseph's Catholic Church on Oak Street.

It was in that church that I became acquainted with the Brown family. When you're little and you live in a small town, you notice when someone has your same last name. It was easy for me to identify with Bobbie Brown, Jean's eldest daughter, when she was my first teacher. I was five at the time. I met Bobbie while attending my first Sister School session. Bobbie was helping out the nuns by teaching us little tykes some Bible history.

That connection stuck with me, especially when I moved on into grade school and eventually met Jackie who was a year younger than I. The in-town Browns were rich, while the out-of-town Browns were not. That didn't matter. Over the years, a friendship sprouted. That friendship has thrived for my entire lifetime.

I probably know Bobbie the best of the Browns, but I always had great respect for Jackie, as did my mother who sang in the church choir under Jackie's direction. Later, when Jody and Patti came along, I thoroughly enjoyed teaching Patti and following her travels as she began a farm life over on one of Pack River's ranches in Montana. Jody became a nurse, and she tended to my mother's needs a time or two at the local hospital.

As the years went by, I had the opportunity to return the teaching favor to Bobbie, several times over with five of her six children. For some reason Jean Pierre, who graduated with my daughter Annie, never made it to my classroom. But Gabbie, who's Willie's age, served as my loyal and thoughtful English aide one year during her high school career. I teased Danielle, the oldest, that she sure looked a lot like Tatum O'Neal. She may still remember the lollipop I gave her at the time. That was when she was an adorable little girl dubbed to carry the flowers at a high school Homecoming.

I laughed a lot with Joelle through a rather tough personal year (the year of our house fire) and introduced Suzanne to art of photography. Nicole brought me back a squirt-gun toilet from one of her family trips; I had to confess to her a few years later that I'd given the squirt gun to Ben Stein's son Tommy when they came to visit my classroom.

Speaking of that house fire, I found the note this summer that Bobbie wrote to me when our house burned down. "Come and go through my closet," she wrote. "There are a lot of clothes in there I can't wear. You're welcome to anything."

I tell these stories because these are the influences Jean Brown had on me, albeit indirectly through her children and grandchildren. I often viewed Jean from afar as she walked into Mass every Sunday, found a pew and gave a big smile to whoever sat next to her. I often saw her as she pulled up for Daily Masses at St. Joseph's. And, I'd hear what Jean thought about things via Fr. Tim O'Donovan, one of her closest friends. Fr. Tim often reciprocated and shared my thoughts with Jean.

A few years ago, Jean was honored in Sandpoint's first class of Women of Wisdom. In her characteristic way, she was so humbled and almost reluctant to be named along with Pat Venishnick, Mary Parker, Dr. Mary Pepper and Ann Cordes, among others. I had the honor of being the guest speaker for that first event. My speech included little snippets about many of the women being honored, including Jean. She called me later to let me know how much she had appreciated my thoughts.

So much will be said, so many memories will be revived in the next few days as the town says good bye to this grand lady who lived with such dignity and with genuine caring for the people who made up the heart and soul of oldtime Sandpoint. She could travel with the high society of the Spokane elite, but she always kept the best interests of the common, everyday ordinary people close to her soul. And, whenever possible, she acted upon their needs very quietly.

Truly the mark of a great woman. Farewell, Jean. Your guestbook will reflect your good works of a life well-lived on this earth.