Donald Leroy Brown
Photograph of Donald Leroy Brown, courtesy of Vivian Penda.
Memorial by Vivian Penda, Donnie’s mother
As I sit here and try to pen a few words about my beloved son, the following song comes to mind, ‘My Way.’ That was all Donald. He did it his way throughout his entire life.
For those of you who did not know Donald, aka Donnie, please meet Donald. He was born in Washington, DC on June 15, 1952 to Vivian Elizabeth Brown and Ricard Leroy Brown. Sadly, we have lost our beloved son, brother and doting uncle. Donald carried unclehood around with the greatest of pride. He was one of the most generous people I have known. He loved to give and to help others even if it meant a deep sacrifice for himself and was even willing to give another the shoes on his feet.
Even though he was incarcerated for over 35 years and endured years of pain and physical suffering, he was strong and never gave up. He was a person who left a lasting impression on all who met him. He was a free-spirit who lived in the present, and again, on his terms. He could enter a room and brighten it with his smile, his attitude, or just his presence. He had “it.” He made friends so easily and was true to each and every one of them.
My son lived his life on his terms. He listened, but did not take advice. He did not conform to social “norms.” But he was not a rebel. He was not rebelling against anything or anyone. He was a free-spirit who lived in the present. Donald was a presence and will be missed and never forgotten.
He was prepared to fight his disease, but never had a chance to lace up the gloves.* He did not die on his terms. He did not want to leave us. He loved us. He will continue to love us. Donald died a man. He died a free man, which is something he had asked of me many years ago, please don't let me die in prison. We fought that battle and won.
A Loving Tribute to a Special Person
The following paragraph is a letter that Donald sent to his mother on June 28, 1998. This letter appeared in the written tribute that Ms. Penda compiled for Donald’s memorial service on July 20, 2020, and she titled the packet, “A Loving Tribute to a Special Person.”
Photograph of Donald in his white suit, one of his favorite articles of clothing, courtesy of Vivian Penda.
Hey there lady, I was just sitting here thinking about you and I spent a lot of time getting to know you. Trying to see what you see, through my eyes, I want to get to know you, as you know you, I want to feel what you feel and why you feel that w[a]y, I want to know how you deal with those feeling, I want to know you as my mother, as a person, as a friend. I want to know I am my mother’s son. I want to know you so you can know me, I want to get in touch with your feelings, so I can get in touch with mine. In essence, I want you to let me into your hiding place, the place I came from, so I can touch your soul, so maybe I can find mine. I want us to come back together with, integrity, purity of heart, and rectitude of life, to find one another before we’re taken from one another, to share “Our Love” before it’s too late before our time has passed.
Image on the tribute that Donald’s mother compiled for his memorial service, courtesy of Vivian Penda.
From Mourning Our Losses:
Donald Brown was an excellent dancer. He was an avid fan of The Temptations and loved to groove to their song, “Psychedelic Shack.” Everyone always talked about his dancing. Throughout his 68 years of life, Donald drew people to him in so many ways. He tragically passed away on July 6, 2020, just days after he was released from Maryland’s Western Correctional Institution. His presence is dearly missed and continually mourned.
Donald was raised by his grandparents, Louise and James Browne, who loved him beyond measure and made him feel strong. Donald reciprocated the feeling; when someone said something insulting to him, Donald was known to say, “You don’t know who you’re talking to. I’m Louise Browne’s son.” He grew up among several other family members who added to his ambience of familial warmth through food, music, and comfort. Donald had a child of his own, Mikey, for whom he burst with pride. During his incarceration, which began when he was 33, Donald’s relationship with his mother, Vivian Penda, blossomed more than ever before.
According to Ms. Penda, Donald had a bright and generous mind. “He was a very proud person,” she remembered fondly, a trait she said persisted in him throughout his incarceration and the challenges it wrought. Donald loved being with people and also was fascinated by them. He enrolled in college psychology courses while he was incarcerated until the 1996 Crime Bill forced the college program at his facility to shut down. Additionally, Donald was committed to telling his story and fighting for broad systemic change. He always planned that, when he came home, he would write a book about the injustices that Black men experience and how his story fit into that broader narrative.
Photograph collage of Donald and his loved ones, courtesy of Vivian Penda.
But by the time Donnie came home, he was practically on his deathbed. Rather than being an advocate for justice himself, it is now his mother who is determined to carry on his legacy by ensuring that his story contributes to broader change.
This is because Donald and his family endured severe medical neglect and injustice that led to the situation around his death. Between December 2019 and May 2020, Donald experienced unimaginable medical hardships. Having developed type 2 diabetes while incarcerated, in December 2019 Donald was being treated for high blood sugar when he fell and broke his hip, requiring surgery and causing early-onset dementia due to a brain bleed. This incident began a cascade of amputations of various body parts, which had become infected due to long-term poor diabetes management. Donald was so sedated from then on that he had difficulty communicating with anyone, including his close friends and family members.
As one of his most cherished loved ones, Ms. Penda remembers with pain and anger how her son’s final months unfolded. She received zero to minimal information about the procedures he was undergoing. She also was barred repeatedly from visiting Donald in the prison infirmary, and, when she was finally permitted to see him, his physical appearance left her stunned by the clear inadequacy of the care her son was receiving.
Given Donald’s severe health conditions and vulnerability to COVID-19, his loved ones and advocates felt he was an obvious choice for medical parole, but on June 1, 2020, his medical parole was denied. Only after his condition subsequently worsened — requiring hospitalization for congestive heart failure and kidney failure — were his lawyers able to successfully advocate for his medical parole. As is far too often the case, though, Donald’s medical parole came too late for him to enjoy any meaningfully improved quality of life on the outside: he left prison on June 18 only to be admitted to a nursing facility in Baltimore, where he died on July 6.
Photograph collage of Donald and his loved ones, courtesy of Vivian Penda.
Ms. Penda, among many others, is devastated by her son’s death. She hopes his story will help reveal the inhumane practices regarding medical parole and will lead to change that directly impacts the lives of people in situations comparable to Donald’s. As a way to mourn and celebrate his life, she curated a beautiful pamphlet with Donald’s own words for his memorial service, which was held on July 20. At the service, Ms. Penda played some of Donald’s favorite songs by The Temptations.
Donald was a beloved son, father, uncle, and friend whose light of life was extinguished in a deeply painful way. Despite the horrifying circumstances, Donald’s family is glad that he did not die while in custody—that was one of his long-standing goals. We stand with Donald’s mother and his entire family in mourning his passing and calling for immediate change.
This part of the memorial was written by MOL team member Eliza Kravitz with information from correspondence with Vivian Penda and Justice Policy Institute.
