JEFF KEATING
The Moose is loose, and he's going to be running at least five miles
around your neighborhood every morning.
OK, so he's not quite "loose" yet. Give him a few more days.
Jim Brown, superintendent of the Glendale Unified School District,
finishes his duties this week as he counts down the days to his
official retirement date, which is Saturday.
But hundreds of Brown's colleagues, profess- ional acquaintances
and friends weren't waiting until the last minute to give him a big
send-off. So Glendale Civic Auditorium rang with music, laughter and
heartfelt sentiment for more than three hours Saturday afternoon,
during a farewell celebration for someone Glendale students arguably
know best as the guy who came to their classrooms, put on a moose hat
and read stories.
Moose memorabilia, most of it from students, dominated a section
of Brown's office for years. Last week, moose hats, countless moose
dolls, and moose pictures and cards went into boxes as Brown prepared
to haul his things home.
Moose talk was relatively infrequent during Saturday's party,
though, as many who spoke about Brown instead chose to focus on his
love of teaching, his collegial manner of leadership, his commitment
to students and the many friends he has made over the years. If that
sounds like a recipe for hugs and tears, it was.
But teary-eyed farewells weren't what ruled the day, which, like
Brown, had laughter as its king. Family, friends and GUSD staffers
took gentle jabs at Brown's often quirky personality traits,
including his command of arcane bits of movie and music information,
his love of '60s music, and his penchant for sending assistant
superintendents voluminous "reading material" about matters having
nothing to do with Glendale schools -- the B-2 bomber, for instance
-- with notes asking them, "What should we be doing to prepare for
this?"
Much was made, also, about Brown's love of running, which includes
that daily five miles and over the years has meant 25 marathons and
5K and 10K relays in locales ranging from Palm Springs, San Diego and
Santa Catalina Island to San Francisco, Nova Scotia and the
Hood-to-Coast Relay in Oregon. Much of that roadwork and relaying was
done with The Foothill Flashers, perhaps the fittest forty-, fifty-
and sixtysomethings in Southern California. After ribbing Brown for
not wanting to be identified as a member of the loose-knit group
because of its name (he had his professional reputation to consider,
after all) about a dozen of the Flashers on Saturday presented him
