September 23, 2008

Dear Sir,

Like all who knew Maxwell Brangman, I was shocked and deeply saddened to learn of his passing this past Sunday morning. I appreciate your newspaper's thoughtful portrayal of this kind, gentle, gracious man, especially with such a short period of time to gather facts and opinions from his friends and family. I'm sure anyone who knew "Maxey," as we called him, will have many fond memories, and I'd like to share some of my favourite recollections, because his presence on the dock meant so much to me.

Maxey was the first friend I met in Bermuda without a third-party introduction. My prejudice and fear of this homeless man was utterly dissipated within three seconds of conversation with him, because he radiated warmth and good cheer, even in the toughest circumstances. He smiled and gave generously of himself under conditions that would break a normal man. I believe he suffered from alcoholism, but unlike most people with substance dependency, Maxey never once seemed angry, hostile or cruel. Nearly every time I saw him, he told me a new joke, and never once did I hear a joke that was off-colour, derogatory, or crude. I never once heard him swear or complain about anything, or ask for favours, cash or goods.

Besides his good mood, he was a real treasure to this community in many other ways. For example, he took it upon himself to clean up other people's trash on the dock where he sheltered, even sorting out the recyclable material for the collections staff. Every boatsman, fisherman and swimmer in the area should feel thankful for this, but Maxey never bragged or boasted – he was just a neat and orderly man who liked to help out when he could. I'm sure he's cleaned up as much coastal litter as any staffer or volunteer at Keep Bermuda Beautiful, and many a sea turtle probably owes its life to Maxey, for the amount of other people's plastic bags and discarded line he fished from the dock and shore line.

In fact, Maxey provided invaluable assistance in this past weekend's KBB Marine Clean-up, on the last day of his too-short life, by pointing out in advance the locales of various underwater debris which volunteers otherwise might have missed. Purportedly, he even apologised that he couldn't be of more help, since he was scheduled to go to work during the clean-up itself.

Maxey was an extremely intelligent and an avid reader, gobbling up any literature he could get his hands on, but he seemed to favour science fiction. He also had an incredible memory for facts and details: he could always tell you the exact bus schedule to the minute, the times of the tidal shifts, the precise moon phase, and the exact minute of sunrise and sunset. I don't know whether or not he was ever a fisherman, but he had an incredible knowledge of fish identification (even for unusual species not caught for sport, food or bait), and how fishes' behaviour was affected by season, time of day, lunar, wind directional, and other influences.

Like most St. David's Islanders, Maxey was very kind to me when I first moved here, when I didn't know another soul in the neighbourhood. On occasion, when my dog escaped her fenced-in yard, Maxey would always volunteer assistance returning her home. If Maxey was around when she ran off, she would visit him first – I think she ran off to go see him. He always greeted us warmly on our nightly walks down to the dock — we had a running gag routine, where each time we saw him, I would tongue-in-cheek command the dog to "attack" Maxey (she adored him), and Maxey would say: "If she bites me, she'll get drunk," to which I would reply: "That's her favourite dish – rum-soaked Maxey!" Then we would chuckle, and he would ask after my wife, and we'd chat and gaze out over the grey snappers and pilchards swimming under the dock light.

I'm going to have a difficult time walking my dog down to the dock each night without seeing Maxwell Brangman there. Our dock has never been emptier, and no amount of cheerful children or social gatherings there can replace the void left behind. We can all take solace in the fact that even though we've lost a real gem of a man, whatever sort of afterlife may await us has gained a real treasure. I trust that in any type of heaven, Maxey will be offered the rewards he so richly deserves, but he'd probably just opt for a humble shack there nonetheless.

I for one, would like to see a permanent commemorative feature placed on or near the dock he kept so orderly, in order to give this wonderful man a tribute worthy of his good deeds and kindness – no amount of flowers could suffice. My wife and I would gladly contribute a cedar sapling, and a few dollars towards a commemorative plaque. If Maxwell's family or any charitable organisation would be willing to accept further donations towards this end, please contact me at 293-2538, or alangordon@logic.bm

ALAN L. GORDON

St. David's