Remembrance of

Doreen Maria Brown, WHO

“Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy, 
Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy! 
Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care, 
And bring back the features that joy used to wear. 
Long, long be my heart with such memories filled! 
Like the vase in which roses have once been distilled; 
You may break, you may ruin the vase if you will, 
But the scent of the roses will hang around it still.”

The poet reminds us in these lines how important the memories that we leave behind are.  We are defined not merely by our physical being, by the vase, which is frail and unreliable, and easily shattered, but y the things of the spirit which make us the persons that we are, and which confer on each of us a unique and unforgettable individuality. It is these things of the spirit of which the poet speaks. They are the “scent of the roses” that linger even after the vase is broken.

When I was asked to give the remembrance for Doreen, I readily agreed. We had a long and warm relationship that went back over fifteen years. We were colleagues when she worked for many years at the Jamaican Mission here in Geneva. But more than that – we were friends.

And this is a good place to start – with friendship. Doreen was a rarity – an uncompromisingly loyal and devoted friend. There are persons who acquire The poet reminds us in these lines how important the memories that we leave behind are. We are defined not merely by our physical being, by the vase, which is frail and unreliable, and easily shattered, but by the things of the spirit which make us friends quickly and easily – and lose them just as rapidly. But Doreen always preferred permanence and solidity. She walked the road to friendship slowly and deliberately, and it was always a straightforward road. As a consequence, she made enduring friends, friends who relied on her strength of character, her generosity of spirit, and the frankness and honesty of her counsel.

I grew to appreciate her friendship and loyalty even more during this my second stint in Geneva. And so too did many others, like her friend Mawunu, Mary, Marie Noelle Tissot, and many others at the Mission, at the WHO, and in the Jamaican community, who, as Doreen’s illness contrived to change so much so quickly, rallied around her with a dedication and devotion that is not easily described.

She was a strong person. Not noisily or vexatiously so. Hers was a quiet strength. Those of us who knew her well could not help but admire her will and her resolve. Even when the full dimensions of her illness must have been clear, she remained positive and convinced that the foe she faced could be vanquished. Perhaps some sunshine would help … and so she dared to plan and to hope that she would be able to travel home to Jamaica in December. It was with deep pain that we all came to recognize that Doreen might not win this particular battle, although none of us really thought it would be so swift – a mere six or seven weeks from diagnosis to her passing.

Four days before she died, Doreen was allowed a brief trip out of the hospital by her doctors. Marie Noelle Tissot and her sister Cherrie took her for a drive by the lake, to Cologny and to Vesenaz, then they came to my house. It was another gloomy day in Geneva and Doreen was obviously weak. Our conversation was punctuated by long silences. Even through the pain and discomfort of her illness it was evident that she was happy to be away from her hospital room for a brief while and to be with old friends in familiar places. She struggled with a cup of tea while a CD of Jamaican music played quietly. At one point she said wistfully, “You know I feel like I could get up and dance”. The vase may be broken, but the spirit would not be suppressed!

Doreen passed away four days later, on Wednesday November 13, at the Cantonal hospital. I visited her on the afternoon of Tuesday, November 12, the day before she died. Marie Noelle Tissot of the Mission was with me. Doreen spoke then not of her illness, but as always inquired about the news from her homeland – hers was an insatiable appetite when it came to the news from home! She asked about family and friends. She even spoke of the need to firm up quickly plans for her to go to Jamaica in December, and spoke of some of the things she would need to do before leaving Geneva for home. On that afternoon and of those plans, Doreen, speaking as much to herself as to her two visitors, said: “Some times you think you have so much time, then it turns out that is not the case.” In that poignant moment, I saw clearly that she knew and accepted the truth that we hesitated to speak. The following day she said farewell to this vale of tears.

Doreen’s passing removes from the Jamaican and international community in Geneva a long-standing member. After high school in Kingston, she lived and worked in Toronto for a few years before joining the government service in Jamaica. Her first overseas assignment was in Trinidad and Tobago. She then came to Geneva in 1974 to work with the Jamaican Mission. This she did for the next fifteen years. In 1989, she joined the World Health Organization (WHO) and was in her thirteenth year of employment there. Both at the Mission and at the WHO, Doreen gave service of the highest standard, working first as a secretary to successive Ambassadors at the Mission, and subsequently in the Department of Emergency and Humanitarian Affairs at the WHO. She leaves behind a host of colleagues, former colleagues, and friends and acquaintances from her many years of dedicated service to the Mission and to the WHO, as well as from her involvement with the international community in Geneva, and elsewhere.

Friendship, character, service and family. Doreen came from a loving and closely knit family in Jamaica.

She was the daughter of Ralph and Constance Brown of Kingston, both of whom predeceased her. Her beloved sisters Barbara and

All the things that Doreen treasured – friendship, character, service, family – were solid things, lasting things, meaningful things. That was her nature. But the glue that held it all together was her spirituality. She was a deeply spiritual person, cognizant of the role that faith and the church had played, and would continue to play in her life. In the end, this above all, and the support of so many devoted persons, gave her the courage and the strength to respond to her sudden illness with quiet dignity, and to the inevitable with equanimity.

Those of us who knew and loved Doreen, whose lives were enriched and touched by her generosity and helpfulness, and by her friendship, can only lament now with Tennyson:

“The hills are shadows, and they flow 
From form to form, and nothing stands; 
They melt like mist, the solid lands, 
Like clouds, they shape themselves and go. 
But in my spirit will I dwell. 
And dream my dream, and hold it true; 
For though my lips may breathe adieu, 
I cannot think the thing farewell.”

November 21, 2002,Tribute delivered by His Excellency Mr Ransford Smith, Ambassador.