Douglas Campbell Shaw Brown

After a full and loving life, at almost 94 years of age, Doug Brown has exhaled with a smile following a weekend of Thanksgiving family fun at his granddaughter’s new home in Saint John. Dad was an adventurer, sailor, musician, surgeon, handyman, Sunday School teacher, med school tutor, windsurfer, ski patroller, and storyteller supreme. He had enormous social energy, was unabashedly himself, and had a wonder about the world that kept him curious right to the end. In recent years Dad was clear in his opinions of obituaries and spoke even this past weekend of writing his own. We, the family, aim to meet his wishes, so if what follows seems choppy, tangential, and sincere, then we will have captured something of Doug Brown.

Dad spoke with pride every time he told a story of his parents, Reverend Chester and Isabel (Shaw) Brown, who raised him on values of humility and generosity. He was a committed and involved brother to his sister Elizabeth, and his brother John was his deepest, dearest friend. He was never an overly mushy man, yet he was clear and stalwart in his love of our mum, Pam Brown. They were true companions who enjoyed many a drive down rural roads, with Dad always keen to take the one less travelled.

Dad’s breadth of connections was expansive indeed. Everyone who met him can say that they knew him, because he offered himself up so easily. He was interested in saying hello to everyone and he made an impression because he was engaging and vibrant. From his boisterous hug that, even in aging, communicated care and enthusiasm, to the immense delight he showed when any member of the family pulled up a chair at the kitchen table, to the pride and excitement he expressed about his grandchildren’s journeys as he steadfastly followed their every step into adulthood, Dad lived life fully. He never walked anywhere – it was always a trot or taking the stairs two at a time. He didn’t drive slowly either.

He was such a fun and adventurous dad to Libby, Helen, and Marion. Dad wanted us to swim – Sundays at the YWCA on Barrington St - to ski on snowy afternoons at Gorsebrook Hill or Martock after church, to camp and explore, taking a corner of the province each summer in the old canvas tent or a rented camper trailer, and to sail on the Northwest Arm in various sailboats that made him giddy with excitement. As young adults, he and Mum jumped into our ski trips, windsurfing antics, and cottage trips with friends. We grew up with confidence that we could try anything and find excitement and joy in the doing.

If you were a child with a broken bone in Nova Scotia between 1967 and 1997, you would have had a 1 in 3 chance of seeing Dr. Doug Brown. Our lives have been peppered with people approaching us to say, “Are you Dr. Brown?” and then reminding him of something blunt yet helpful he had said to them while in his care. In the time of travelling clinics, we often went with him, and photographs of scoliosis spines and club feet would be mixed in with pictures of the us playing at the beaches and inlets we would visit after working hours.

Dad played the trumpet and then French horn in the Tupper Band for over 50 years and the Chebucto Big Band for decades. Indeed, he could play any instrument if you gave him 10 minutes, and he could not walk past a harmonica without picking it up and playing his favourite tune, which is a family standard - an improvised ballad of a King and his consort. Dad had a beautiful tenor voice and could place a harmony perfectly. He loved big musical gatherings of friends and family, most recently at Chateau Brown Cow, where all are welcome.

Dad was a playful and eager grandparent, seeking to connect with Fraser, Hannah, Alex, Franny, Jack and Ben with silliness, songs, and stories. He sat in many rinks and watched a lot of hockey, he perched on ski hills, watched dancing he didn’t understand, stood in the rain to cheer on soccer games, did puzzles, whittled, whistled, played charades, and always was game. When the grandkids asked “Papa, can we….”, without the sentence even complete, he was on his feet, ready for the adventure the invitation entailed. To be with Dad, we knew that there was no place he would rather be. He particularly wanted to be in Vancouver when Tanner was born.

Dad loved to reflect on his life, especially in recent years, and did so with consistent amazement of his good fortune and appreciation for all the people he has met along the way. He was incredibly modest, always playing down his efforts and accomplishments. He was proud of us, and we know it. Never gushing or with an abundance of words, but the twinkle in his eye and oft-told stories spoke volumes.

Special thanks to Kath, Theresa, and Aidah, who especially brightened his days.

We will gather at St. Andrew’s United Church on Robie Street on Saturday, October 19 at 2:00 pm. Please come with your fond remembrances.