Showing posts with label Washington Post. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Washington Post. Show all posts

Monday, December 17, 2012

Martin Brossman II Father of Martin Brossman III Passed 12-15-2012

My Father was a Mentor and a Friend. He is no longer here in body but will be in my heart forever.
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.

Martin received a B.S. in Engineering from Lehigh University, and an M.S. in Engineering Physics from Penn State University, with further graduate work in Mathematics, Management and Operations Research. He was a registered Professional Engineer, and a member of The International Management and Operations Research Society.

His career began as Engineering Physicist with The Naval Research Laboratory, where his friend and co-worker, Ed McLean, introduced him to his sister, Julia, who became his wife of 55 years.  They loved to travel the world together and visited every continent.

Martin’s  career included  Division Chief with Research Analysis Corporation (RAC) where he invented and patented two testing and recording devices; Principal with Planning Research Corporation (PRC); Vice President with H. B. Maynard and Company; Adjunct Professor at American University; and Physical Science Administrator with the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), receiving a series of  Manager of the Year Awards, as well as Agency medals and citations. One of his greatest joys was working with Native American tribes in protecting their water resources.

Martin had a strong spirit that kept him cheerful despite many physical hardships, with his love of people and compassion ever present.  While not working and especially during his retirement, Martin loved to toil in his garden.

In addition to his wife, he is survived by his son, Martin W. Brossman, III, Raleigh, NC, and one brother William F. Brossman, Sr., Allentown.  He was predeceased by his sister, Ruth W. Dent.

Funeral Services will be held Saturday, December 22, 2012, at 11 AM from the Hetrick-Mull Funeral Home, Inc., 27 East High St., Womelsdorf, PA  19567.  Interment will follow in Womelsdorf Union Cemetery.  Friends may call Saturday from 10 AM until time of service at the funeral home. Please visit, www.hmfuneralhome.com, for online condolences. Martin Brossman II's son, Martin Brossman III can be reached at 919 847-4757 or CoachingSupport.com

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Other Links:

Eulogy of Martin W. Brossman II by Martin W. Brossman III 
https://www.facebook.com/notes/the-three-martin-brossmans-i-ii-iii/eulogy-of-martin-w-brossman-ii-by-martin-w-brossman-iii/504741026233169

Photos of my Father - Martin W. Brossman II:
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.505015429539062.121026.501557776551494&type=1&l=550abab9c2


Photos of the Funeral
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.507184685988803.121429.501557776551494&type=1&l=43b2c8f808 

Video of the Funeral (from right to left):
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=vb.501557776551494

Page about my Father at the Hetrick Mull Funeral Home, Inc.:
http://www.hmfuneralhome.com/obits/obituary.php?act=addimg&id=238211


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:

https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Three-Martin-Brossmans-I-II-III/501557776551494


A story I wrote about his workbench:
http://myfathersworkbench.blogspot.com

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Comments and notes from others about my Father and to me, Martin W. Brossman II:

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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.

Roy Rathbun
Alexandria, VA
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!


Vickie (co-worker)
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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,

Dave Davis
Arlington, Virginia

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

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.

John Sharpe 


---


Subject: My Condolences

Dear Martin,

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.


Mike
___



American Legion Honor Guard and Martin W. Brossman II Funeral.





Friday, September 4, 2009

Elizabeth C. Ely is no longer walking on this earth today

written on 8/24/2009

Elizabeth Ely passed on yesterday. A person who was key in my life. The longtime principal of The Field School, the high school I graduated from.

I went to The Field School 10th through 12th grade. I spent freshman year in another school that didn’t work well for me, and due to my dyslexic reading challenges and the growing problems in DC public schools, my parents did not want to send me back.

The original Field school was in a large house in Washington, DC. When we arrived there, I told my parents I wanted to meet the principal on my own. I went in and sat down to talk to Elizabeth, and though I don’t remember what we talked about, I remember how she was truly interested in me and why I wanted to go The Field School. I remember asking a lot of questions since I wanted to be at the right place--like an adult two-way interview. I came out and told my mother, “I discussed it with Elizabeth and we decided that I am going to school here.” I still had challenges reading but I also had to compete and do my homework. If it required reading many books, I had to come up with some approved equivalent work.

Those three years at the Field School were my most productive school years, thanks to Elizabeth. She created a space for me to freely explore and create. I started the first yearbook that the school ever had (The Falcon), won a photo contest and participated in a formal debate on global warming and what the rising level of CO2 meant. Our debate team won the debate that Global Warming was real and a future concern in 1978.

With Elizabeth’s prompting, I submitted myself to a National Science Foundation scholarship and won, going to Ball State University for a program to learn about digital electronics, acoustics and holography. I came back and wrote a 115-page book on holography over the summer and was allowed to teach a class on how to make holograms, and we made real holograms. I remember falling in love with Geometry as Elizabeth taught it, sharing the concept of the golden triangle and unique history of Pythagoras. I did advanced reports and a presentation on Einstein, and how Japanese Americans lost everything in WWII in concentration camps, a talk which included bringing in a woman who had been in such a camp to share her story.

Not sure about college due to low SAT scores (lots of reading), I considered the military. Elizabeth’s daughter (Sharaine Ely), who was a teacher, locked me in a room and said we were gong to talk until she was sure that I was not just choosing the Army because of my fear of higher education with my reading challenges. She was right, and I chose to go on to college.

My friendship with Elizabeth continued long beyond graduation. We would meet every few years or so and check in. She celebrated my graduation from college and my completing my first 395-page book. She would come to me for advice and I did the same with her. The last 7 years I felt more and more strongly that she needed to write her own book. I remember many conversations about it. She cared so deeply about the effect the book would have on other people in the best of ways. I remember a heated debate (which we loved) where I insisted that it did not have to be perfect, that people even needed to see the errors and her perceived mistakes. She told me that my own self-revealing quality in my book got her to understand more my point. Over the years she would share more and more what it was like for her during her years in education: her determination, fears that she hadn’t made the best decision, how she learned from her mistakes, but not always, and the process of making decisions.

Clearly Elizabeth was academically smarter than the average person. That had little to do with her greatness. To me, the extraordinariness of Elizabeth Ely was how she truly had not more or less then the rest of us. She fought to overcome regrets and mistakes like many of us. Her greatness was how courageously she lived her life, determined to keep her mind open to possibility but her feet grounded in the realities of life’s challenges. She was neither reckless nor overly protective. Like the father who lets his child climb the tree but stops them when he knows they would break more than just an arm if they fell. It is that edge that let me take on things I may not have otherwise taken on and I give Elizabeth great credit for inspiring this in me. There are thousands of us out here whose lives would not be as great without Elizabeth, and I am one of them. It is my belief that the greatest way to honor and appreciate Elizabeth Ely’s life is to live our own lives to the fullest.

Elizabeth, it truly hurts that you are gone. The last time we talked months ago was not enough. Thank you for the life you lived because it gave so much to my life. I know you are no longer walking on this earth today, but I know you are still with us.

Martin Brossman
The Field School Graduate
Class of 1978

See Washington Post Obituary about Elizabeth C. Ely.

and

In Memory of Elizabeth C. Ely comments at The Field School website.


A few photos from the first Yearbook refereed to in the post:

Drawing from the first yearbook The Falcon of The Field School 1976

The Falcon - The Field School's first Yearbook
- The Falcon


The Falcon ( Yearbook ) Staff - 1976
Sharaine Ely take in 1976 at The Field School from the yearbook


My Holography Class


Another picture of Elizabeth from ~1977/78