By recalling the mirthful and loyal qualities of dear friend and former Judge Richard A. Brown, I take nothing away from the fond and serious recollections of his accomplishments as Queens County district attorney. We shared a long and close friendship that allowed us to experience some more playful human anecdotes known to few. In his memory, I proffer them in supplementation of the outpouring of regard and affection that has been published about him and his career. Brown was a fiercely loyal friend and defender of his colleagues and staff. I testify to this as a first-person witness.

One of our earliest major collaborations was when he was chief counsel to Gov. Hugh Carey and I was chief clerk of the Court of Appeals in the late 70s. The new appointment process for the Court of Appeals had just been added to the state constitution, and the very first vacancy occurred with the retirement for age of Chief Judge Charles Breitel at the end of 1978. As counsel, Brown had to chart and navigate the uncharted waters of this historic appointment—the sitting junior associate judge, Lawrence H. Cooke, as the next chief. When he called me, as clerk, to discuss how to stage the public event, we agreed to make the rollout very symbolic and somewhat adventurous. So, after the traditional press conference at the Capitol, the governor and new chief judge came down Eagle Street to the Court of Appeals. We “producers” arranged for the ceremonial swearing-in to include the governor, seated on the bench with the seven judges of the court. This had never been done before. Brown and I were always very proud of the daring behind-the-scenes impresario-like roles we played to memorialize this historic event—and that it became the standard practice to this day (for the most part, and always for new chief judges).

Brown relished often and privately telling of a post-swearing-in anecdote. Evidently, Cooke had left his raincoat in the governor's office, and when he later sought its recovery, it could not be found. Carey, known for his impish and wicked Irish wit, instructed his counsel to inform the new chief judge that the coat went missing because the diminutive (in size) Brown had it cut up by a tailor from which two suits and a vest were made. Cooke, folks may remember, was a robust gentleman. The coat was never recovered. A mystery of the Capitol, never solved and permanently with all three great public servants who are the subject of the jest! I am pleased to be left behind to tell the whimsical tale.

The following year, Brown planned to resign as counsel and his successor, John McGoldrick from the New York City firm of Schulte Roth & Zabel that he had helped found, came to Albany. Brown arranged a tree-way dinner at a place called Odgen's so that McGoldrick would get to meet and know the clerk of the Court of Appeals. Ever the sharply-probing lawyer, McGoldrick wanted to know how this introduction had anything to do with his new job. We had never met. Brown wryly noted that he and I had worked together on inter-branch matters, behind the scenes, and that would prove useful going forward through the good offices of the clerk of the Court of Appeals. That friendship endured for many decades, among the three of us, and lasted long after our public roles ended. Thankfully, McGoldrick and I had a wonderful “goodbye” lunch with Brown on March 13, 2019, at his district attorney conference room table. We wistfully promised one another to resume our lunches in Connecticut soon again, although McGoldrick and I sensed that might be our last. The depth and fidelity of that friendship is another of the great marks of Brown and his graciousness in bringing about such a beautiful friendship, for which we will be eternally grateful.

One more anecdote on that aspect of our intimate friendship: As McGoldrick was undertaking the responsibilities as counsel, Brown came down to my office as clerk of the court in early 1980 to discuss his next career move. Carey had decided to appoint him to the Appellate Division, Second Judicial Department in Brooklyn at 45 Monroe Place—a forum he reminded me where I had cut my early eye teeth in the 1960s as law clerk and secretary to Presiding Justice Marcus G. Christ. When I didn't react with immediate enthusiasm, Brown was alarmed and maybe hurt, so he asked how come. I timidly reminded him that under the state constitution, only “elected” Supreme Court justices were eligible for appointment to the Appellate Divisions. He realized immediately that he would have to inform the governor, who wanted to do this immediately—as most chief executives wish—that they would have to wait a year and Brown had to get himself elected to the Supreme Court (an interim appointment would not do) as the prerequisite. He told me later that my picky attitude cost him a year's seniority on that court.

One of the funniest trademarks of Brown, as has been noted, was his 24/7 omnipresence at major crime or potential crime scenes throughout Queens. He whimsically let me know many times that one of his most treasured possessions was an ID that admitted his car to the tarmacs of LaGuardia and JFK airports because they were part of his “international” jurisdiction! I used to tease him that his “Duck Down Brown” judicial moniker would serve him well, as he would have to duck under the wings of the planes as he sped around the tarmacs with lights flashing and sirens wailing. He laughed harder than anyone at the wild images I conjured up for him.

On one more serious note, since so much has been recalled about his long and distinguished law enforcement district attorney record and legislative and executive roles, I want to wrap up by summoning a judicial opinion that also linked us. He wrote a very important dissent during his Appellate Division service about the exclusive jurisdictional review powers of his intermediate appellate court. The appeal came to the Court of Appeals and I drew the random assignment in my very first year on the court to report and then write the unanimous reversal opinion that recognized the unique role of the Appellate Division's “weight of evidence” review (People v. Bleakley). Brown called me the day the case was handed down by my old court to say how proud he was that we were friends, but more importantly linked forever as judicial colleagues, albeit on different courts but on the same side of an important case and issue.

Our friendship covered decades and embraced lots of wonderful public servants and individuals in other walks of life. We loved being together at lunches every year, hosted by former Chief Judge Sol Wachtler and Fred Wilpon at Citi Field for Mets games. Wistfully, really painfully, I note the passing within just this last year of three regulars of those uproariously funny gatherings—Bob Keating, Joe Hynes and Brown—who are are no longer available for lunches and laughs.

May they rest in peace. They are missed for their public service and wonderful friendships.

Joseph W. Bellacosa is a retired judge for the New York State Court of Appeals.