BANGOR and CLINTON – Howard F. Brown, 95, our beloved father, grandfather and friend, died peacefully Aug. 28, 2011, at his son’s home. He was born March 25, 1916, in Hermon, the son of John A.F. and Inverno M. (Phillips) Brown.
Howard served with the U.S. Navy during the end of World War II and was one of the greatest of the “Greatest Generation.” He was always willing to help anyone in need. He and Mom fostered many children throughout the years and he had a soft spot for babies and little children. He was able to enjoy the antics of his twin great-greats, Jacob and Madison, almost to the end. Howard was a very hard worker and was very active until a few years ago. He was an accomplished carpenter and his skills helped to support his family during some very lean times. He began working for Maine Central Railroad in 1934 and retired in 1976 where he was a car knocker at Maine Central Junction, Hermon. He loved to fish only to give his catch away to others. He was a longtime member of Mystic Lodge No. 65, AF & AM, Hampden. He and our dear mother, Arlene (Brown) Cormier, married April 28, 1937. She predeceased him Jan. 16, 1977, from which he never fully recovered.
Surviving are his daughters, Claudette Oxley of Brewer, Inverno Dorsky and her husband, Donrick, of Levant and Priscilla McLeod of Bath; his son, John Brown and his companion, Rose Baldwin; and his daughter-in-law, Ruth Brown, all of Clinton who provided him with loving care during the last few months of his life; 10 grandchildren, 18 great-grandchildren, four great-great-grandchildren, nieces, nephews and friends. In addition to his wife and parents, he was predeceased by an infant daughter, Johann; a grandson, Guy; all of his siblings; and his fishing buddy, his nephew, Courtland Linsey.
Burial at Locust Grove Cemetery will be private. Arrangements by Kiley & Foley Funeral Service, 299 Union St., Bangor.
Do not stand at my grave
and weep, I am not there,
I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the
diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the autumn’s gentle rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds
in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there. I did not die.