I am now dealing with his funeral plans but will write more soon.
His Obituary that was submitted to the papers:
Obituary of Martin Werner Brossman II
Martin W. Brossman, II, 89, of Washington, DC, died Saturday, December 15, 2012 of natural causes in his residence. He was the husband of Julia (McLean) Brossman. Born in 1923, in Allentown, Pennsylvania, he was the son of the late Dr. Martin W. Brossman and S. Eleanor (Ruth) Brossman. A graduate of Allentown High School, he served in the US Army during WWII.
Eulogy of Martin W. Brossman II by Martin W. Brossman III
Photos of my Father - Martin W. Brossman II:
Photos of the Funeral
Video of the Funeral (from right to left):
Page about my Father at the Hetrick Mull Funeral Home, Inc.:
Just the Brossman Grave site in Womelsdorf, PA: https://www.dropbox.com/sh/43oypcab85dyl5n/Ygj9SGM-pm
He always wanted to make a scrapbook of all three of use. My Father the II, Me the III and his Father the 1st: Martin Brossman so I have started it on this page:
A story I wrote about his workbench:
Comments and notes from others about my Father and to me, Martin W. Brossman II:
Hi Martin...so sad to hear about your Dad's passing.
I worked with him in the same EPA division from 1996 until I retired at the end of 2003. The thing I remember most about Marty was that he was always happy! I don't think I ever saw him aggravated, or mad at people. Always a good word and a smile!
His love of cars also struck me. There were several car photos on his office wall. And I remember how much he liked the new Mustang I bought in 1998. It was just a basic Mustang...not even very powerful...but he was so very happy for me that I had bought it.
My best wishes to you and your family.
retired from the Assessment and Watershed Protection Division
About my Father:
He was a wonderful person! I met him through the Clean Water Action Plan back in the Clinton Administration, but I really got to know him after I joined the FWQA and we started going to the lunches together. He was such a fun person to be with – and I will truly miss him!
Dear Mr. Brossman (III),
I received the sad news of your father's death via a rather long, EPA- related grapevine. I have been retired for 12 years, and news from EPA and about my former colleagues reaches me ever more slowly with each passing year. First, I want to express my sincere condolence to you, your mother, and others in your family for your loss. I can readily understand why you stated in the email that ultimately reached me that "he was a good man that [you were] blessed to call [your] father."
I worked with your father during my final 9 years at EPA in the Office of Wetlands, Oceans, and Watersheds. I was the Deputy Director of the Office, which was comprised of about 180 employees, and we were separated by a couple of layers of management, so we didn't work closely together, and I didn't see him every day. However, on those days that our paths crossed--fairly frequently--I could always count on a warm and genuine greeting and a big smile from your dad. It was always clear that he liked people and enjoyed their company. Unless one of us was running to the next meeting or bureaucratic "fire drill," we always found a few minutes to chat about whatever came to mind--sometimes work related, often not. In retrospect, these encounters with your dad brightened my days which were often stressful and exhausting. I know that others related to him in much the same way. I wasn't around when he retired, but I feel certain that his absence was felt by his colleagues, both professionally and personally. Put another way, your father was one of the "good guys" that people remember fondly and are enriched by their acquaintance.
But I also have a story of sorts. Way back in the mid-1970s when I was a young, new EPA employee in the old Office of Planning and Evaluation (EPA's central policy office at the time), I was given some sort of assignment that required me to have some involvement with the
committee that your dad ran. I can no longer recall the precise titles, but I believe that he was the executive director of a water quality advisory committee that was comprised of highly respected experts and leaders in the field from outside EPA (and probably outside the federal government). When I asked my supervisor how I should go about making contact with the committee, he said something like "just go see the guy who heads it up, Mr. Brossman." I checked the organization charts and learned that he was a very high-ranking civil servant at a time when I was a very low-ranking one, at least for Washington DC. I was also fresh from the Air Force, so I was more rank conscious than most of my EPA colleagues who tended to have a somewhat inflated impression of our group's importance and weren't particularly rank sensitive. I imagine that I showed some hesitation, but my boss said to just go ahead and not worry about it. So, I called your dad's office and asked for an appointment, fully expecting
to be shunted off to one of his underlings. To my surprise, he invited me over in the near future.
When I arrived, still a bit uneasy, your dad welcomed me with a big smile, a firm handshake, and appeared to be genuinely pleased to give me some of his time. I recall none of the substance of that first encounter, but I did spend a fair amount of time with him and the
committee over the next year or so. He always made me feel welcome and somehow telegraphed that sentiment to the committee members who did likewise. Your father demonstrated true character in the way he dealt with me, when some managers of his rank might have brushed me off and relegated me to the lowest ranking member of their
organization. (And, believe me, I did see some of this sort of behavior in EPA, though thankfully not very much of it.) I never felt for a minute that any of your dad's behavior toward me was in any way artificial or calculated, but rather was the normal expression of a
the real personality of a warm and genial person. When I became a manager, I always attempted to emulate this interpersonal style which I had learned from your father and other more experienced managers with whom I was fortunate to have worked. I can only assume that others felt the same way about your dad as I did.
When fate brought us back together in 1991, I was pleased to learn that I would again be associated with your father. One of the first times we had a quiet moment together, I shared that story from the past and my reflections on it. He too remembered our first encounter,
in the same positive way that I did, and it provided us a special bond as we worked together over the next decade. When I think of your dad, the first thing I see is a big, wide smile, and it makes me smile. He will be missed.
With kindest regards,
PS. I'm sharing this with Bob Wayland, the Director of the Office
during my final years at EPA, my former boss, and my continuing friend.
Hi Martin (III),
Susan and I arrived in Oxon Hill. I was very sorry to hear the sad news about your father. I was glad to have gotten to know Marty better these last ten years or so. I enjoyed our times emailing, sending links back and forth. He had a great sense of humor. Those exchanges stopped, of course, when he became weaker. I still have his last email message, from April 2007, when he was telling me about his master-gardener work and commenting on Famous Dave's barbecue (where Susan and I had eaten recently). I saw him last Christmas, and although weaker, his sense of humor and kindness remained. I'll miss him.
I hope that you and Barbara are doing well. This will be a tough holiday for you, I know.
All the best,
John F. Finamore, Chair
Department of Classics
With deepest sympathy for you and your family in the death of your father.
May he rest in peace, and may light perpetual shine upon him.
I'm sorry to learn of your father's death. I will not make the trip to PA for his funeral, but wanted to say a few things.
I read your email, in which you said: "his heart, compassion and love of good people had a big influence on who I am." I believe that. I met him briefly a few years ago, when your book came out. He seemed like a sweet guy who was genuinely proud of you.
And I think you did him proud as a son. For years, you've gone above and beyond anything I can imagine doing, to care for both your parents in their illness and old age. I honor the heart, compassion, and love of good people that are apparent in you.
You obviously had a father who loved you and who earned your love. My wish for you is that you focus on all you got, not on what you lost.
Be well, my friend.