My First Catholic: Linda Snelling Brown

SEPTEMBER 16, 1946-AUGUST 15, 2019 

One of my few selfies taken with Linda at Opry Mills Mall

You rarely, if ever, saw Linda Snelling Brown without a smile.  She, self-proclaimed, was the ‘woman of color’—bright colors!  She lit up any room she entered. 

I’ve said often Linda was my ‘first Catholic’ although my ‘cousin-in-law’ Vicki, disputes the claim in that I’ve known her since college days and Vicki’s a cradle Catholic.  So I clarify, the first catholic who began as a client and became a close friend. Linda was instrumental in my introduction to the Benedictine Saint Meinrad Archabbey where I’ve taken a number of retreats over the years.  I also learned a great deal about the Catholic faith via Linda.

We met originally in a round-about way. The summer of 1970, as a summer job I surveyed buildings in Iowa to check if they qualified to be a fallout shelter (see another blog).  I was in Cedar Rapids for a few weeks and attended pastor Alec Ulmet’s church.  I got acquainted with his family over Sunday dinners. His son Kevin later came to Nashville to Trevecca and attended First Nazarene where we were attending.  He went on to seminary and then took a pastorate in Frankfort Kentucky.  He and Linda served the homeless together.  When Linda said something about wanting a counselor, Kevin told her about me in Nashville.  Linda drove back and forth from Frankfort for a good while.  Like sometimes happens when you’ve seen a client for years, a friendship developed beyond the office.  She was a lay Youth leader at Good Shepherd Catholic Church in downtown Frankfort.  She brought her youth group to Nashville at times even bringing them all to our house on one occasion. 

She signed up for a Ministry Formation course toward a commission as a lay minister. She asked if I would be her Director of Practicum but I wasn’t a catholic.  The diocese did ultimately approve a protestant Director of Practicum.  The teacher of the program was Priest William ‘Bill’ Brown.  As the months went by I knew most everyone could see she was ‘smitten’ with Bill and unbeknownst to me, he to her.  Fast forward, they fell in love and Bill proposed.  They had to leave the Catholic Church (HUGE loss to the catholics) and became good Episcopalians.  I was a groomsman in their wedding in 1996. No surprise that the bridesmaids had different bright colored dresses and we groomsmen had matching bowties and cumber buns.   

Linda and Bill’s Wedding Day, June 29, 1996

Bill got a great job at Midway College not far from Frankfort and Linda worked at The Church of the Ascension Episcopal Church in downtown Frankfort.  She was director of Youth, then the elderly and eventually just Director of Programing.  Her favorite of all jobs she ever had was Director of the Soup Kitchen there in Frankfort—a combined ministry of several parishes.  

It wasn’t too long before they moved into Capitol Plaza Hotel in downtown Frankfort where the top two floors had been converted to condos for seniors. Ultimately a Godsend as her health declined.

With Linda in front of Rebecca Ruth’s Chocolates (& bourbon balls) in Frankfort.

 Jeannie and I visited them on several occasions taking in Kentucky attractions like Berea Kentucky—the craft capital of the USA, Shakertown, Buffalo Trace Distillery, Irish Acres Gallery & antiques— along with The Glitz tea house at Nonesuch (Versailles)—one of Linda’s favorites, Bardstown, a fine dinner at The Castle in Lexington…and other restaurants like the Heirloom in Midway.  Most recently Bill treated me to an excellent dinner at Jeff Ruby’s in Lexington. We continue to eat our way around Kentucky.

Linda also loved Joseph-Beth Bookstore in Lexington. We could kill a good hour, two or more there since they had a cafe as well. She was a shopper…my kind of girl.  

Linda began to have some problems with memory and feared going down the path of her mother who passed away with Alzheimers.  In the end, that is the direction life took her.  Her fears dampened only slightly her childlike curiosity and wonder.  Like many with the condition, mornings were better than late afternoons and evenings. Linda stayed at home to the end.  Only the last couple of weeks was she bedridden.  

Linda and Bill in Berea, Kentucky on our last trip together

Linda died August 2019.  Bill asked me to do a eulogy. I went to the mall and bought the brightest hot pink tie I could find.  I wore it with a muli-color window pane shirt. No way did the woman of color want anyone at her memorial dressed in black.  Bill asked recently if Linda had ever said anything about being disappointed in him.  Questions like that often come as we grieve someone we loved deeply.  I could without a doubt assure him that I never heard her complain or say a negative word about him.  They were perfect for each other.  He has printed numerous photos on canvas of Linda with her infectious smile. He visits her grave most every day where there is a photo with that infectious smile on the stone.  

Linda would at times send a big box of individually, brightly wrapped gifts—just as an expression of her love and friendship. She was one of the most creative people I’ve ever known. I look around my study and see several things Linda gifted me…or hand made me.  My first statue of Saint Francis is on the shelf across the room.  My first Saint Francis outside in the garden was a gift from her as well.  She loved Flavia cards and books and made items of clay to match stories.  During a difficult transition twenty plus years ago I spent some time at Saint Meinrad in southern Indiana.  While there I saw a beautiful calligraphy of Matthew 6:28 at Abbey Press. I didn’t buy it because money was uncertain during that time but apparently I’d said something to her about how beautiful it was.  A few weeks later as I drove into the driveway there was a box leaning against the garage door.  Linda had driven to Meinrad, bought it and sent it to me.  From the first day in private practice, it hung on my office wall.  As I glance up from typing, it is on the wall of my study right in front of me.

I don’t need stuff to remember Linda.  Her memory will always shine in vivid colors.  Recently it was good to spend a couple of days with Bill and share our memories of the woman we both loved.  One of us as a wife, the other as a client who became a good friend. 

Providence and the connections with people over our lifetimes always amazes me.  Were it not for that summer in Iowa and sitting at the Ulmet’s dinner table, I would never have known Linda Snelling Brown.  

I love how life weaves such strings of connection…to design a fabric we never would have dreamed of. 

Divine providence, yes.