A Joy That Defies His Absence
Alexandria Astronaut Mourned With Tales of Passion, Tears of Laughter

By Timothy Dwyer
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, March 13, 2003; Page B01

There is a single word that Dave Brown's friends used to describe him, a simple word, one that comes up again and again when they talk about what kind of person he was.

Present.

Navy Capt. David M. Brown, 46, a native of Alexandria and explorer of earth and space, was buried yesterday at Arlington National Cemetery, the last member of the shuttle Columbia crew to be laid to rest.

At a memorial service before the graveside ceremony, Brown's presence was fully felt during three eulogies that left many of the hundreds who gathered to say farewell with tears of laughter in their eyes.

His father, retired Arlington County Circuit judge Paul D. Brown, and mother, Dorothy, sat in the front of the Memorial Chapel at Fort Myer and listened to story after story about their son, stories of his generosity, endless enthusiasm, passion and loyalty.

Retired U.S. Navy Lt. Cmdr. Jeff Goldfinger was the first to speak. "I wrote up a half-hour-long speech," he said, laughing as he held up several sheets of paper. "And the judge said , 'No, it has to be five minutes.' "

Then he wondered out loud how in the world anyone could talk about Dave Brown for just five minutes.

The atmosphere was less like a solemn funeral than an old-time Irish wake. Brown, a mission specialist on the Columbia mission that ended in tragedy Feb. 1, touched many people in his life as a gymnast, doctor, flight surgeon, test pilot, astronaut, budding cinematographer, friend, brother and son.

The service was a celebration of his life, many stories told quickly, but not quickly enough to fit into their few allotted minutes.

Retired Navy Capt. Gordon Iiams, the second speaker, was asked later what his friend Dave Brown would have thought of the memorial service.

Iiams, a classmate of Brown's at Eastern Virginia Medical School, laughed and said: "Too somber. He liked things to be upbeat and positive."

When the memorial service ended, Brown's silver coffin was placed on a horse-drawn caisson and hundreds of his friends, family and colleagues walked slowly behind from the chapel to the grave that had been opened beside those of two of his six fellow crew members, Air Force Lt. Col. Michael Anderson and Navy flight surgeon Laurel B. Clark.

His father, who uses a wheelchair, led the procession. As the horses drawing the caisson took their first steps toward the cemetery, he took off his glasses and dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief.

Brown was buried with full military honors. Four U.S. Marine F-18s roared overhead as six sailors removed his flag-draped coffin from the caisson.

Brown decided to join the Navy while he was an intern at the Medical University of South Carolina and he came across a brochure showing a Navy physician standing on a flight deck next to an F-4 Phantom fighter jet. He thought it looked cool.

In the Navy, he was the first flight surgeon in 10 years to be selected for pilot training and finished first in his class. He had fallen in love with flying as a boy when a family friend took him for a ride in an airplane. He got his pilot's license while a student at the College of William and Mary. And once the Navy let him fly, it was difficult to keep him on the ground.

He flew more than 2,700 hours, more than half of that time in high-performance jets. He was carrier-qualified and selected as a test pilot, assigned to the Naval Warfare Center in Fallon, Nev., where only the best pilots are sent.

Throughout his life, friends recalled yesterday, Brown's humility seemed to grow with each goal he achieved.

"Two days before the [Columbia] launch," Goldfinger said, "Dave invited me to attend the NASA family barbeque. I was no closer to Dave than anyone else in here today. But the reason he asked me is that he knew I would get the most out of it. That was what Dave was all about. It was never about him."

He recalled that Brown had applied to be a NASA astronaut a couple of years before he was accepted in the class of 1996, but was turned down.

Yesterday, after the bugler played taps and a Navy band played "America the Beautiful," Brown's father was presented with the flag that had covered the coffin. He took the flag, dabbed his eyes once again and placed a rose on the coffin.

Friends and family followed, including Jon Clark, who buried his wife, Laurel, at the same spot on Monday. Then Clark knelt near the flowers at his wife's grave and bowed his head. After a moment, he stood, tears in his eyes, and walked away.

The other four members of the Columbia crew -- Navy aviator William C. McCool, Air Force Col. Rick D. Husband and mission specialists Kalpana Chawla and Ilan Ramon -- were laid to rest elsewhere.

"All seven of those folks on that space craft, that shuttle, were wonderful people," Iiams said as he left Brown's grave yesterday. "They were all like Dave."

For those of you who weren't there, I'd planned to tell you all about the
day; but I find that a reporter for the Washington Post did a better job
than I could even think about doing.

Goldie and Gordon each did a wonderful job, and boy, did they look spiffy in their dress uniforms. Goldie even shaved his beard out of respect for Dave's dad!
 

The mourner pictured in this article actually kissed not a rose, but a photo
of Dave watching his first launch in 1982.  There were other mementos placed on the coffin. My favorite, in all the formality and solemnity, was a fuzzy stuffed squirrel
somebody had placed among the flowers! It was soooo Dave. How he would've
laughed about that! Somebody, please tell us that story.

 

Jane Bridges