Tom Brown at Te Puia Thermal Reserve.
Tom Brown
The recordkeeping process for the United States isn’t something likely to come up in typical happy hour conversation. But few would deny its importance to our historical chronicles— from gathering and analyzing census records to bringing closure to mourning families by keeping track of wartime casualties. In the ‘70s and ‘80s, the transition from analog recordkeeping (i.e., mountains of paper) to electronic recordkeeping (bits and bytes) was a challenging process, requiring detailed knowledge of computers and a strong understanding of history. Well versed in both, Rehoboth Beach resident Tom Brown was uniquely qualified to bring that seemingly impossible effort to fruition.
Tom was born in Lubbock, Texas. His father worked for The Texas Company (known more popularly as Texaco), and when Tom was two, the family followed dad and his job to Oklahoma City, where in 1968 Tom graduated college with a degree in history. Fresh out of school, he spent a year as a resident counselor at a school for emotionally disturbed children, living there six days a week.
As satisfying as the job was, Tom wanted something more commensurate with his education. So he went back to school at Oklahoma State, graduating with both a master’s and a Ph.D. in history. It was now 1974, and he landed a position as a professor at Grand Valley State University in Allendale, Michigan. He taught there for two years until he was offered a job at the National Archives in Washington, D.C.
Prompted by the imperative to input, store, retrieve and analyze the massive amounts of statistical materials generated by the Vietnam War, the National Archives required the power and expediency of electronic recordkeeping—operating within the context of historical preservation. And Tom Brown was just the person for the job.
But let’s back up for a minute. This is Letters from CAMP Rehoboth, after all, so it’s important to know that Tom came out while he was at Oklahoma State. “I could no longer live in the closet,” he says, and he zeroed-in on his very first gay bar, the Taj Mahal, by paging through one of the popular—and very analog—gay guides of the day. It was the ‘70s, and the gay boys were not necessarily welcomed with open arms in downtown Tulsa. This was evidenced by the fact that bar patrons who crossed from the parking lot to the bar in mid-block were immediately arrested for jay-walking by Tulsa’s finest. This comparatively tame harassment (compared to getting hit over the head with a crowbar, I guess) was countered inside the bar with signs exhorting patrons to “cross at the light.” In Tom’s words, “Tulsa was not a very supportive place.”
Shortly after he relocated to Washington, D.C., he met Jim Lemley. Jim was a CPA with the government, and was at one time the deputy CFO of FEMA. Tom tells me that “archivists and accountants think basically alike.” Though he was referring to their work personae, it apparently applied just as well to their initial meeting: “It was lust at first sight,” smiles Brown. Jim wanted to settle down immediately, but Tom was hesitant. “I finally came to my senses,” he says. “I realized I couldn’t live without him.” They moved in together in April, 1980, but 29 years later Tom’s realization would be cruelly tested.
In 1985, Brown was promoted to senior archivist. As he continued to help the government cope with the growth of electronic records, he became the Chief of Staff of the Office of the National Archives. In 1988 he became the Manager of Archival Services in the Center for Electronic Records—now heading up the organization he had joined in 1976.
Tom was building a reputation for himself, and in 1996 was elected a Distinguished Fellow of the Society of American Archivists. His credibility was enhanced even further when he became a Certified Archivist, eventually holding the title of Regent for the Society of American Archivists; in a position to determine others’ eligibility to join the prestigious organization.
In 1995, Tom and Jim bought a vacation condo in Rehoboth Beach. They loved being here so much that they purchased a home in Rehoboth Beach Yacht & Country Club in 2004. Both men retired in 2006 to live at the beach and grow old together. Sadly, that was not to be. In November 2008, Jim discovered that he had an undiagnosed heart condition and had suffered a series of silent heart attacks over a period of time. Three weeks later he passed away.
It’s been about six years since then, and that sort of devastation can only be fully understood by one who goes through it. But with or without us, life goes on. Tom Brown is now on the Board of Trustees for both the Lewes Historical Society and the Delaware Agricultural Museum and Village. He was also appointed by the governor to the Delaware Heritage Commission.
Tom enjoys ocean cruises with Pied Piper Travel groups, visiting such far-off places as Dubrovnik, Usira, and Vietnam. “I miss Jim the most when I travel alone,” he says. “So I like the companionship and camaraderie of the cruise groups.”
Bob Yesbek is a Rehoboth Beach resident. Email Bob Yesbek