BOB BRETT

The first image that enters my mind when I think of Bob Brett,
who passed away this past week, is of him standing at the top of
the steep front staircase at our old second floor offices,
leaning on his permanent metal crutches, out of breath and his
face beet red from the climb. "Bob," I said, "why didn't you
just call me and let me know you were coming by to see me? I
would have had the freight elevator all set for you to take it
up." Bob looked down at the floor, caught his breath and said,
"Jim, it's OK. Too much trouble." I admit that it was a pain in
the ass to use that old freight elevator, but that really wasn't
the point. Bob was handicapped. His body may have started
quitting on him years ago, but his spirit never did. What I
really think he was telling me, and what I watched him tell the
world during the four years that he was closely connected to
SMOC, was that he wasn't going to give in and that lifting
himself up those stairs with his crutches was his way of
communicating that.

Bob was a fighter with a damaged heart who never stopped

fighting. I got to know him when we opened our Resource Center
in the winter of 1986. It was a real different time around here
then. General Motors was fighting with the Town over plans to
expand their operation. Dennison Manufacturing was humming.
Cushing Hospital was in full operation. Retailers like Zayre,
who had their corporate headquarters in Framingham, and high tech
operations like Prime, were the envy of the corporate world.
They couldn't hire people fast enough. The "Massachusetts
Miracle" was a boom for some, but it certainly wasn't a boom for
a lot of poor people and working class renters who experienced
the doubling and tripling of their rent. Many tenants faced the
additional ignominy of being told that they now had a chance to
buy an apartment that they had lived in for years and for which
they had paid $350/month rent, if they could only get their hands
on $70,000 or $80,000; and that was a bargain.
It was out of those conditions that the Framingham Tenants
Organization emerged. Because our Resource Center had been set
up to deal with the affordable housing crisis, it was only
natural that the Framingham Tenants Organization and the
Framingham Resource Center would become partners in an effort to
not only spur the conscience of the community about this crisis,
but to also deal on a day-to-day level with the individuals who
were being affected by these forces.

And that brings to mind the second image I have of Bob - he and
his wife Muriel, who was his partner in every sense of the word,
sitting at their desks at the Resource Center, stuffing
envelopes, as the two of them, along with Dorothy Kennedy, the
first Director of our Resource Center, kidded each other,
commiserated with each other and brainstormed with each other
about how their work could make a meaningful impact on the life
of this community.
Bob wasn't a polished speaker. He would be the first to admit
that he struggled to articulate and convey his points and his
message. All he did was care. And all he did with that caring
and compassion was to translate that into busting his butt every
day for the things that he believed in. He saw people just like
himself being taken advantage of, and he wanted to try to put a
stop to that. It didn't matter to him whether those people
looked like him or spoke the same language as he did. He knew
that the conditions affecting their quality of life went beyond
color and culture, and that if you only brought home a paycheck
of $150/week to support your family, you couldn't pay $145 of
that for rent.

The Framingham Tenants Organization wasn't the only avenue that

Bob used to make a positive contribution to this community. I
was proud of the fact that Bob chose to serve as a member of the
SMOC Board of Directors and was an active Board member until the
time that he and Muriel left the state to live closer to one of
their children because of the deterioration of his health.

Bob took a serious interest in town political affairs. In 1988,

he decided to run for Selectman and took on a powerful incumbent.
It was a last-minute decision. The incumbent was running
unopposed and I can recall his words, "Jim, somebody's got to
stand up and bring the issues we care about to the attention of
people." So near to the last minute, he jumped into the
Selectman's race. And what had looked to be an unopposed
cakewalk for the incumbent turned into a contest. Sure, he lost,
but, to Bob, that was never the point. And I never heard him
once regret his decision or the time and energy that he put into
the campaign. I can still remember the offhand comments and
asides made by those who also allegedly espoused change in the
Framingham community, "Well, he's not active in the Town
Democratic Committee. Well, he's not very articulate. Well, he
really doesn't take some progressive positions that we look for."
And the remembering of those comments still brings back to the
surface the flash of anger I felt then and still feel now. They
were right - all he was willing to do was stand up for what he
believed in and, in retrospect, he paved the way for a new group
of political leaders to emerge in this community.

Bob represents to me the embodiment of a much-ballyhooed

exhortation, that one person can really make a difference. And
while Bob is no longer here, I will continue to salute his
courage, his honesty and his integrity. And in my most
discouraged moments, I will always remember that despite all in
life that had gone against him, every day that I knew him was a
day that he believed that his actions would make a difference and
that those actions carried the potential to make life better for
others.

James T. Cuddy
September 1993