… passed in his sleep last night and announced on Twitter by his son, Colt Ford.
Paul Brown ran used car lot on Hawthorne for many years, did a little preaching, and coached little league baseball with my dad, Paul T. Martin, and Godfrey Channell. The same foursome was sitting 3rd baseline in Atlanta-Fulton County when Aaron hit 715.
Those were the days when men stayed connected with local youth baseball for years progressing from Mite to Little to Pony leagues. Many of the players went on to play in college.
Perhaps Paul Brown’s most famous story was his reported abduction by a UFO late one night out on the Nowhere Road. He swore to the story and his buddies kidded him relentlessly during breakfast at Shoney’s (now, Hilltop Grill).
I remember him best from UGA basketball games where he sat one row below us in Section F on the front row. On a bad call from an official, the diminutive Mr. Brown would leap atop the concrete wall in front his seat and balance there in leather-bottomed dress shoes while expressing his displeasure in full force.
He leaves us now and forever. While alive, he reminded me of days long ago when my dad and brother would be suntanned caramel brown in their stiff white wool uniforms playing for the honor of Athens against some rival from Gainesville or Macon or Albany. The Athens Banner-Herald covered every game in detail and box scores were printed daily.
Mr. Brown is the third of the four coaches to pass. Paul Martin survives albeit ravaged by Alzheimer’s.
I’m sad to see him go. A little of my old Athens goes with him. Perhaps yours, too.
God’s blessings on the Brown family.
Paul Brown ran used car lot on Hawthorne for many years, did a little preaching, and coached little league baseball with my dad, Paul T. Martin, and Godfrey Channell. The same foursome was sitting 3rd baseline in Atlanta-Fulton County when Aaron hit 715.
Those were the days when men stayed connected with local youth baseball for years progressing from Mite to Little to Pony leagues. Many of the players went on to play in college.
Perhaps Paul Brown’s most famous story was his reported abduction by a UFO late one night out on the Nowhere Road. He swore to the story and his buddies kidded him relentlessly during breakfast at Shoney’s (now, Hilltop Grill).
I remember him best from UGA basketball games where he sat one row below us in Section F on the front row. On a bad call from an official, the diminutive Mr. Brown would leap atop the concrete wall in front his seat and balance there in leather-bottomed dress shoes while expressing his displeasure in full force.
He leaves us now and forever. While alive, he reminded me of days long ago when my dad and brother would be suntanned caramel brown in their stiff white wool uniforms playing for the honor of Athens against some rival from Gainesville or Macon or Albany. The Athens Banner-Herald covered every game in detail and box scores were printed daily.
Mr. Brown is the third of the four coaches to pass. Paul Martin survives albeit ravaged by Alzheimer’s.
I’m sad to see him go. A little of my old Athens goes with him. Perhaps yours, too.
God’s blessings on the Brown family.
