November 29, 2024
We had the funeral for my Dad today. David was not feeling up to coming to visitation, but SL brought him in time for the service. It was a nice service as far as funerals go. Lots of people said lots of nice things about my Dad. David was pretty tired so he and SL left right after it was over. He slept the rest of the afternoon and evening. Hair loss is continuing, and he has been more pale. He does not have much of an appetite, but he is trying to eat. He is having stomach aches so this is new since the chemo. He says they are like tummy aches you would get as a kid.
Here is the eulogy I wrote and read for my Dad. It was an easy thing to write but a hard thing to read. I was glad I was able to get through it…for him. I had read it over and over for David and SL and they both thought it was good so I went with it.
My Dad
I am going to get through this for him. If I stumble for a moment, please bear with me until I find my footing and get back up.
You are not going to find a better guy than Danny Brown. That is what I have heard my whole life. I never met anyone around here that has not at least heard of him. People would say “oh he is that guy that did so and so or HEY, isn’t he that guy that did such and such?”.
Yes and yes. He did all the so(s) and all the suches.
Let me tell you about Danny.
He was a United States Marine and served this country in Vietnam. He loved this country. It was only a few years ago that he shared his experiences with me. He got out all of his old slides he took while he was over there and David and I soaked it all up. Every word. He built bridges and scanned for mines and built bridges again when they were blown up. He made friends and lost friends. He saw things there most of us cannot imagine and he kept those things to himself.
When he returned home, Danny attended Gordon Military College and studied Criminal Justice. Danny worked as a typesetter and photographer at the Thomaston Times newspaper. He was a dog catcher for Upson County (not one of MY favorites of his jobs once I found out he didn’t actually catch them to bring them home). He was heavily involved with the Civil Defense Service. He was a fireman. an EMT, a Cardiac Technician, A paramedic. He was the county coroner for 16 years. He was not a fan of the politics but he loved that job. He maneuvered ambulances and fire trucks all around Upson, Henry, and Fulton County. With the help of some good Thurston Community people, he was the founding Chief of Thurston Volunteer Fire Department and fought fires alongside some of the bravest men you could have ever known. He volunteered himself countless times over the years. He taught EMT/Paramedic certification training classes at Upson Technical College. He was among the first of Upson’s new EMS Agency employees, and in what should be no surprise, served as the Director at one point. He worked with the EMA’s Rescue Unit. Danny was a photographer and took pictures of everything. In the earlier days, he developed most of his own photos. He especially enjoyed wedding photography. Danny was a self-taught painter. Give him one Bob Ross tv show and he was painting landscapes and happy little trees and clouds like a seasoned artist. He was a guitar picker and singer. He enjoyed singing with the church choir and the Second Edition singing group alongside his wife Carla. He was a very talented woodworker. He could make anything you described to him. He had a little shop in town for a while displaying his woodworking next to Sonny Webb’s barbershop. Danny worked at Big C drug store delivering medicine. He worked part time at Kmart where he met Carla. He enjoyed helping people. He dabbled in computer repair. He worked at Carters. He operated the sound for the choir and church services.
Let me tell you about my Dad.
He was very smart. He knew how to do anything. He was intuitive and he could fix anything. He was impossibly stubborn and grumpy and sometimes he was downright cantankerous. He was incredibly giving. He was loyal. He loved his family. He was impatient. He was cheeky and sarcastic, and he liked corny jokes. He was a giver of gas money. He was a sneaker of cheeseburgers when Carla would go out of town to visit family (I don’t know if she knew that -sorry dad). He had the kindest voice. He was compassionate. He would empty his wallet if someone needed it and never ask for a thing. With all of his medical knowledge and skill, he could have been a doctor, easy. He was the first one to show up at social gatherings and also the first one to leave. He took me to my first Star Wars and Indiana Jones movies and we saw every one after that. He taught me about computers on his Commodore 64. His motto from the beginning was “never delete anything” and he didn’t. He shared his love of reading with me. He loved westerns and mysteries. Books and movies. He introduced me to Tarzan, The Lone Ranger & Silver, Matt Dillion and Miss Kitty, and Hoss & Little Joe. He rode different motorcycles throughout those years and he took me for rides on the back of them. He loved going down to Sprewell Bluff and taught me to skip rocks…sort of. He skipped perfectly. I just sort of…threw them in. Starting at a young age, he taught me CPR countless times using my baby dolls as models. He taught me to respect people and he showed me what it meant to be a Marine, a veteran, a patriot. He went with me to a skating party one time and broke his leg severely in two places trying to skate with me in an effort to keep bigger kids from knocking me down on my wobbly skates. Ironically, an ambulance had to come and get him. He had to wear a cast for six months. He never let me forget that. He loved classical music and taught me about the classical masters through Looney Tunes cartoons. He would point out the music in the cartoon and then pop on the record (yes, RECORD) of Mozart, Beethoven, or Chopin. He also is the one that introduced me to Looney Tunes cartoons. And that was our Saturday morning thing. He had a memory like an elephant. He made the best cheese sandwiches a five-year-old ever tasted. When I was around six, he built me a huge playhouse complete with real windows, carpeting, electricity and a porch. He even painted it pink. It is still standing today in our backyard. My daughter played in it also. Like his brother Norman, who he loved very much, he enjoyed all things aviation. He made model airplanes and played flight simulator games for as long as I can remember. He took me on a helicopter ride around Panama City Florida and I never forgot it. He taught me to fish at my Grandaddy’s lake with a Snoopy Rod and Reel set he bought me. I still have it. He always had to bait the hook, and untangle the lines when I did it wrong, and handle the fish when I cried because I was hurting the fish. He helped me learn to drive. He let me borrow his truck anytime I needed it. He helped me get my first job at Kmart where he worked as well. He was the photographer at my wedding and didn’t want to do it because he thought he was too rusty and had gotten rid of most of his cameras. He did it anyway and it was perfect. He hated talking on the phone but answered his phone every single time I called and when I texted, he did his best with that too. When I was newly married and I graduated college and told him I was quitting my full-time job to start a pet sitting business all within the space of a couple of months, he said “ok let me know what you need”. When I had a troubled delivery when Sarah-Lauren was born, his was the second face I saw when they had me in recovery trying to revive me. David’s was the first. Most recently, Carla was needed elsewhere for a bit, so I got to share something else special with him. His first ever colonoscopy prep. He had to drink the cocktail every 20 minutes until it was gone so in truest Danny form (of one of the most impatient people on the planet besides me), he decided to just chug it down. Went from I don’t need this little cup and went straight to “Bartender leave the bottle”. He said and I quote, “this isn’t going to be too bad at all”. Despite my detailed account of what was going to happen and my noting how far away he was from the bathroom, he was genuinely surprised when the party started 11 and a half minutes later. Carla was the true hero in that because she came back before the party got too far out of hand between him and me. Plus, cleaning up a party is always the worst job. He and I laughed that day like we had not in a long time. And I will be forever grateful for Carla for letting me help and literally see a side of my father I never saw before. (Thanks a lot Carla!!)
When I got up yesterday and it was raining, because I like rainy days, I thought, this is a perfect day. Carla texted sometime later in the morning and said “your dad loved the rain” His smiles are still everywhere if we just look.
He was a son, a brother, a husband (more than once), a Dad, a father in law, a brother in law, an uncle, a papa, a friend, a mentor. He was humble to a fault. He would not have understood the fuss being made over him. He did not know how to accept praise or compliments paid to him and didn’t think they were warranted. He did not realize his importance and his impact. He tried so hard to do the right things. The things he thought made a man. He didn’t think he was a good dad. I thought he was the best dad. He was a real-life super-hero. Defender of country, Fighter of fires, rescuer to those in need, a voice for those who passed away suddenly or unexpectedly, a capturer of memories, a good and faithful servant.
People ask me how I got my name. DeeGee. Well, I will tell you. The D is for Danny and the G is for Glenda. They didn’t want me to have initials for a name so they added in the ee’s for fun.
He called me Doodlebug from as far back as I can remember. Every time I went to his and Carla’s house, he would be sitting in his computer chair and the first words, as he was getting up for a hug was “Hey Doodlebug. Come on in”. The last words he said to me when I saw him last was “Bye Doodlebug. Thanks for coming” The weight of not hearing him call me that ever again will be substantial once all of this settles.
How he left this world is not indicative of how he lived. And just how much he made our lives better, is immeasurable. That small, tiny moment in time on Sunday afternoon when he snatched back some control he had lost to a disease much bigger than he was, does not come close to the sacrifices to county, the service to community, and the love for God and family. Those big, huge, incredibly impactful moments were his life and will continue to be.
Danny, my Dad, was good and honorable and I always trusted him to know and do the right thing. Nothing about how he left us changes that. So, I will say it again for the people in the back, and for him. You won’t find a better man than Danny Brown.
I hope when you think of DANNY, that you smile, because that is what I will be doing when I think of my DAD.
Bye Doodlebugs. Thanks for coming.