On June 1, 2017, Ezra (Bud) Brown retired after 48 years on the Mathematics Faculty at Virginia Tech in Blacksburg, Virginia. He was raised in New Orleans. Sadly, that wonderful place (America's Most Interesting City, The City That Care Forgot, The Crescent City) will never be the same after Hurricane Katrina's unique Day of Horror. At some indeterminate early age (his mother estimates it as 2.5) he was taught to read by his blind Grandma, who also gave him his nickname. Ask him about the reading; more about the nickname later.
He spent his K--12 years at Isidore Newman School, a very preppy school in New Orleans. He then went to Rice University, where he spent four years learning to play the piano (by ear), to sing (choral music), to play Disc Golf (he held the course record) and to be more-or-less socialized. Oh, yes, he majored in math and somehow escaped with a B.A. in 1965. Along the way, he worked two glorious summers in the Pacific Northwest, from which some of his fondest memories date.
Somehow, his undistinguished career at a distinguished university was enough to get him into a crackerjack graduate program in mathematics at LSU in Baton Rouge. He obtained a M.S. in 1967 (after failing his Ph.D. preliminary exams once, but not twice) and a Ph.D. in 1969. His doctoral work and most of his seventy or so publications are in Number Theory, a field once widely praised for its great beauty and its great uselessness. The beauty is still there, and it now has many useful applications -- useful enough to enable Bud to find interesting things to do during many recent summers. Useful is as useful does.
The most significant event in his graduate career, however, happened on December 10, 1965. Having received a "Dear Bud" phone call from a young lady just that afternoon, he was in no mood for frivolities. His friends downstairs persuaded him to go with them to a party given by Mary Ella, Jo, and Anna, who were graduate students in English. When he was introduced to Jo, it occurred to him that This Was The One. And she was. They were married on June 1, 1967 and they celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary on June 1, 2017. Their anniversary coincided with the date of Bud's retirement. (Just coincidence.) Anyway, they are now in the 54th year of their trial marriage. It'll probably last.
In 1969, shortly after their son Benjamin was born, the three of them moved to Blacksburg, where he (Bud, not Ben) had been hired as an Assistant Professor. Their son Daniel was born in 1972, and they have been at Virginia Tech ever since, except for sabbatical years in Munich (1978-79) and Washington, DC (1991-92). In 1970, Bud joined the Virginia Tech Jazz Ensemble because their piano player had just quit, and was with that group for ten years, occasionally playing vibes, too. He even directed the group for a year.
Along the way, there were a number of minor pets and three major ones: Trotwood (1970-80), a large, friendly, Frisbee-catching mutt; Peggotty (1981-94), a very friendly but slightly neurotic Golden Retriever; and Minerva (1990-2006), a Siamese cat with some dog-like behavior patterns--but she was raised by a very motherly Peggotty, so what do you expect? They have lightened our lives and brightened our days, each in their own unique fashion.
During the 1970's Bud and Jo went the organic gardening and alternative school route. The Munich sabbatical was an outstanding experience in many ways for the four of them, and they were able to travel to an interesting mix of countries. The boys learned German with astonishing rapidity, and they all learned to ski--the boys and their mother are quite good, and as for the mathematician, well, no broken bones.
During the 1980's the boys and their dad went through Scouting together, with much camping, hiking and backpacking (the Appalachian Trail is a 20-minute drive from Blacksburg). Ben went to Philmont Scout Ranch in New Mexico in 1984, and Dan and Bud both went in 1987. After returning from Philmont, Ben spent four years at Mercersburg, a boarding school in Pennsylvania, and Jo began her 20-year career as a librarian at the Montgomery-Floyd Regional Library. She obtained her Masters in Library Science at Catholic University in 1992, nursed the Blacksburg Library building project from its pre-referendum days to its current status as a beautiful completed building, did the same for the Meadowbrook Public Library in Shawsville, and retired on August 1, 2005. No grass will grow under her feet: she was a Master Gardener for many years, and gardening is one of her great joys in life. In 1999, she and her "diggy-boy" (guess who?) put in a water garden, which has been a wonderful addition to our yard. Our yard is full of furniture, and our house is full of both plants and folk art, the latter including a whole lot of mermaids and images of Frida Kahlo. In her retirement, Jo joined a Women's Canoeing Group: they canoe every Wednesday from April through October, if the weather be good --- and even if the weather be not-so-good. And there are now bicycles in their own shed, just for good measure! And binoculars are nearly always within reach as they learn more and more about birds. (HINT: The more you look, the more you see!)
Ben graduated from James Madison University in 1992, lives in Oakland CA, and works in the computer world, but he may end up being a writer. He says, "I get to write every day." His long-time friend Pamina Loewald has worked as a graphic artist; she has a degree in linguistics from the University of Califonia at Berkeley. In no special order, they enjoy books, movies (especially comedies and Japanese films), music, gaming --- they met at a gaming group meeting --- and each other.
Daniel graduated from the University of Virginia in 1994 and from the National College of Naturopathic Medicine in Portland OR as an ND (Naturopathic Doctor) in 2001. He finished the PA (Physician Assistant) program at Oregon Health Sciences University in Portland and is now working as a P.A. at a clinic in Portland. While at NCNM he met fellow student and fellow UVa grad Samantha LeVine, and the two of them conspired to increase our family: Phoebe Rose Brown LeVine was born standin' up and talkin' back in the wee hours of July 30, 2000. She's a gem. And Rose is a family name, being the name of Bud's maternal grandmother's favorite sister and Bud's maternal grandfather's mother. So she's named after one of her great-great-great aunts and one of her great-great-great-grandmothers!
Daniel lives with his wife Christine and her two sons Jacob and Asher in Milwaukie OR, a city just south of Portland. He enjoys being a family man!
Phoebe has finished her second year at the University of Oregon, double-majoring majoring in Political Science and Journalism. Where the time goes is anybody's guess ...
Ben, Daniel, and Phoebe have a true generosity of the human spirit. Their parents/grandparents are very proud of them, as were their grandparents/great grandparents: Bud's dad, who escaped the ravages of Hurricane Katrina, moved to Blacksburg, and died at the age of 101 in 2014; Bud's mom, who escaped with his dad and died in 2008; and Jo's mom, who taught home economics at Ouachita Baptist University in Arkadelphia, Arkansas and died in 1992.
Bud returned to music in 1989, joining the Blacksburg Master Chorale and the chorus of the Roanoke Opera. With the Chorale, he has performed such works as the Brahms and the Mozart Requiems (three times each), the Faure Requiem twice, Britten's War Requiem, the Rachmaninoff Vespers -- sung both a capella and in Russian, the Bach B Minor Mass, Arthur Honegger's King David -- in which he chanted the part of the Ghost of Samuel -- and Mendelsohn's Elijah oratorio. (Maybe one day he can sing the part of somebody who's alive!) He's been in six operas, and had a small role in Madama Butterfly (the Imperial Commissioner, who performs the marriage ceremony for Lt. Pinkerton and Butterfly), which afforded him a two-page solo, a line in the program and a solo bow. His earliest music experiences were being at rehearsals for Gilbert and Sullivan operettas staged by a group of Tulane and Newcomb alums--including his mother (who taught at his elementary school for seven years and staged Gilbert and Sullivan puppet shows with the Fourth Graders). Some time ago, he dipped a toe into the world of karaoke, and won the Silver Microphone for singing that fine old rock'n'roll classic, Jerry Lee Lewis's "Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On."
Finally, at MathFest 2011, the summer meeting of the Mathematical Association of America, Bud participated in an event called "MAA: The Musical" as musical director and pianist. Various mathematicians composed new words to music from Guys And Dolls, The Mikado, Grease, Fiddler On The Roof, A Chorus Line, and H.M.S. Pinafore. It was a riot, and his mother, who had written many such parodies in her youth, would certainly have enjoyed it. Dayyenu! There were repeat performances at MathFest 2012 and MathFest 2015, and there was a Gilbert-and-Sullivan Singalong at MathFest 2016 with his "Biscuits of Number Theory" co-editor Art Benjamin. The latter was a riot. That may be it -- but you never can tell ...
Forty-eight years as a college professor brought great joys and some successes to our mathematician. He became, they tell him, a good teacher and a good writer. He occasionally brought his students real biscuits (which he baked himself); he offered to teach them how to juggle--or to learn from them if they already know how. One of his favorite areas in mathematics is Graph Theory, which is a very effective way to model all sorts of "real life" situations in which there are a bunch of things that may or may not be related to one another. He has given workshops for high school teachers on how to use graph theory in their classrooms. For many years he has worked closely with the Virginia Tech Honors Program, in 1996 one of his advisees was awarded a Rhodes Scholarship, and in 2005 another of his advisees was awarded a British Marshall Scholarship. Since the late 1990s, he has greatly enjoyed writing survey and expository papers for a variety of mathematics journals aimed at students, teachers, and researchers of mathematics. In 2003, he gave the Commencement address at Virginia Tech's Fall Commencement Exercises. In 2005, he was appointed an Alumni Distinguished Professor, a tremendous honor which left him -- when he learned of the appointment -- uncharacteristically speechless.
In recent years, three of his former undergraduate students, who went on to earn PhDs in Mathematics, joined the Mathematics faculty here at Virginia Tech. All three of them are now Full Professors. Their offices are in McBryde Hall (where Bud's was for 48 years), and he can drop in on them and chat any day. And it really doesn't get any better than that.
In 2013 Bud was approached by the legendary mathematician Richard K. Guy about joining him as co-author of a book called "The Unity of Combinatorics." [Richard Guy has a wikipedia page that will explain the "legendary" part.] This was another great honor, and Bud said, Yes Yes Yes! After The book was published in May 2020 and if you want to know more about the book, enter "The Unity of Combinatorics" in any search engine. Sadly, Richard died in March 2020 at the age of 103, and Bud's and Richard's last communications were about choosing the book's cover from some choices. (They picked the same cover!)
Oh, yes: combinatorics is the art and science of counting, of asking and answering such questions as "How many ways?", "Is there a way?", "If there is a way, how do you construct one?", and "What's the best way?"
Future plans? Probably more of the same: gardening, traveling (five Road Scholar tours and counting), birding, music, kayaking, and the great outdoors. [Well, not anytime soon, for at this writing, the COVID-19 virus is ravaging the world, so those plans will have to wait. But he and Jo are patient.]
Bud has this vision of giving Commencement addresses at his old high-school or college. Having now had a bit of experience with this sort of thing, he would probably say something about wisdom.
Why wisdom? Well, one of Virginia Tech's finest graduates in recent history, the Outstanding Senior in the Pamplin College of Business back a few years, told him he was very wise. Having thought about what that implied, he'd say this to the students: "You may well wonder what the purpose of an education is. It could be that the purpose is to acquire, not knowledge, but wisdom. Well, that's fine, but how can you tell when that happens? Maybe you begin to acquire wisdom the moment you discover that you are not God."
End of Sermon. Pass the collection plate.
Almost forgot: the nickname. When he was about a month old, his Sainted Grandma Bertha looked at him in his crib and said, "Oh, look--he has a face like a rosebud." So they called him Bud. (If he'd been a girl, he'd have probably been named after his Great Aunt Rose and Great-Grandmother Rose.)
This is a true story. I wouldn't lie about Grandma.