by Scott Brown
Indeed, if my life is a story of second chances, so are my parents’ lives. Not long after we began to reconcile, my father started volunteering for the Jimmy Fund, one of the oldest health charity organizations in the nation. The Jimmy Fund works with the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute in the battle against cancer—in the summer of 2010, I joined five thousand cyclists, including Senator John Kerry, to ride in a charity race on behalf of the fund. I dedicated my ride to one man, Judge Samuel Zoll, who has been fighting cancer himself.
My father has helped raise over $100,000 for the Jimmy Fund, to help friends and neighbors and people he has never met. He has walked in parades, carrying a blanket, so that bystanders could toss stray coins for donations. In 2010, I was able to present him with a special award to mark his twenty-five years of service. Today, it is with great pride that I stand anywhere, whether on a podium or in a backyard, and introduce my dad or my mom.
In my grandparents’ final years, my mom moved back to New Hampshire to be their caretaker. My grandfather lived long enough to see me married and to see Ayla and Arianna born. He died in 1994, before I became a Wrentham selectman. My grandmother lived until 2001, and Gail, the girls, and I tried as often as we could to make the drive to New Hampshire to see her. Gram is buried beside my grandfather, in Portsmouth, in a green, grassy cemetery, a little ways away from the water and the bustle of downtown. I miss them still.
My mother made their remaining time as comfortable as possible, and she did it with love. Afterward, she stayed in New Hampshire, caring for a couple of houses that my grandfather had passed down, making a new life for herself. She has become a dedicated volunteer at local animal shelters, caring for pets and others in need. At last, she seems to have found her home.
And she can know that there were many things she did right. The powerful work ethic that my sister and I share was in many ways taught to us by our mom, who never shirked from doing whatever job she could find to support us, who never expected a handout or help. No matter what my mom’s experiences were, both Leeann and I have rich, loving marriages. And we have learned from our own growing up. We have not repeated the same mistakes that were made in our home; instead, we’ve been made wiser by them. We’ve consciously tried to apply the lessons of our lives, good and bad, and do things differently. We are determined to show our own children that they can get past whatever difficulties they face in life, in marriage, and in their family. We have tried to teach them how to choose love wisely and how to stay in it for the long haul. As I look at my daughters, at Leeann’s son and daughter, and at Brucie’s and Robyn’s kids, I believe that this next generation is more resilient than our own, that the fruit of each new generation is better than the one before it.
When I decided to run for the U.S. Senate, I told both of my parents before I announced, and, from the beginning, they both wanted to help. This time, there were no barbs, no recriminations, no simmering hostilities, just everyone working together toward one goal. My mom asked all her old high school friends to volunteer. She asked for donations, and she did whatever she could. My dad went out and got hundreds of signatures for my petitions to get on the ballot; he scouted out campaign sign locations; he made phone calls and worked to help with fund-raising. And quickly, it spread beyond my parents. Leeann and her husband, Rich, came down from New Hampshire to find the best sign locations, Robyn and Bruce chipped in however they could. My dad’s sister, my aunt Linda, did her part. Her daughter, my cousin Shannon, took most of our campaign photographs; she captured amazing images at hundreds of campaign stops and also went door to door for me. Gail’s mom, Anne, got hundreds of signatures, and her sister, Jenny, was great at working the phone banks and finding sign locations. They all pulled together without complaint. They called to check in on me, to offer whatever help they could. At one point during the race, I said to Gail, “We have one of the most dysfunctional families in the world, and who would have ever thought that my running for the U.S. Senate would be the thing to pull everyone together?” I was amazed at how they all gave their time and their dedication to try to help me win. It was gratifying and humbling, and it gave me hope, not only for the election, but for our family.
On election night, my entire extended family was standing there with me on the platform. It was so packed that people could have fallen off. It was our first true family reunion, as it were, with all these intersecting threads and storylines coming together in one place. And everyone was just happy to be there, on that one stage. There was no bitterness, just shared pride and joy, mine perhaps the greatest of all, as I glanced around. My father was behind me; my mother was next to Arianna; Gail and Ayla were on either side. I treasure that moment every bit as much as the win they had helped me to achieve.
Not long after I won the election, Massachusetts Congressman Barney Frank, with whom I’ve since developed a cordial working relationship in our role as colleagues from the same state, said a bit dismissively of me, “Having an old truck and two daughters are not usually policy arguments.” I actually take it as a compliment. I am happy to be measured by my family; if my life were defined by the worth of Gail, Ayla, and Arianna, it would be immeasurable. These three wonderful women are my rock of stability. We are always there for each other. I take the greatest pride in Gail’s talent as a journalist, in her stellar reputation for always being fair, accurate, and extremely hardworking. She is incredibly accomplished and skilled. What most people don’t often get to see is the deep commitment Gail and both our daughters have to others.
Gail has volunteered at, donated time to, and emceed more than a hundred charity events over the course of her career. A couple of years ago, Gail and Arianna traveled together to Ciudad Juárez in Mexico with our local church to help build an orphanage. Arianna, who loves to draw and paint, was asked to paint images of local reptiles and lizards to decorate the children’s rooms. Arianna is marvelous with animals. For years, she has gone out into the yard, out into the woods, and animals simply follow her home. We now have two dogs and a cat. Over the last decade, we’ve had an iguana, a Quaker parrot, a box turtle, hamsters, a freshwater and saltwater fish tank, Chinese fighting fish, and at different times, four separate horses. Arianna has developed an amazing love for and intuition for horses. She can walk up to a horse, look it in the eye, and calm it down. Her ability to read animals and also people, to sense their needs, is a gift. And while she has occasionally modeled, like her mom, she is planning on becoming either a veterinarian or a doctor, and earned close to a 4.0 GPA during her freshman year in college. Ayla too is unfailingly generous. She has sung at countless charitable events. A few months after she reported on a young girl with cancer for the CBS Early Show, she called the girl and her mom up and invited them to come to visit the beach with her for the afternoon. She didn’t do it for a camera or a spotlight; the story was long since over. She did it because she cared about them and wanted, on her own, to do a little bit more, to make a difference.
Please measure me by my family. I can’t take the credit, but I couldn’t be more proud.
On Father’s Day 2010, a few weeks after Ayla’s college graduation and the conclusion of Arianna’s freshman year, and my first Father’s Day as a U.S. senator, I decided that I really wanted to ride my bike.
I have a theory that part of Father’s Day should be a chance for a dad to do whatever he wants. On that day, I was in Rye, New Hampshire, at our little weekend place, with my wife and daughters. I had talked to my mom and was going to see my dad. Arianna, Ayla, and Gail had planned a special surprise for him, a new golden retriever puppy to replace the one that had died. But I also really wanted to ride my bike.
So I decided to ride down along the New Hampshire coast, through the twists and curves, past the short sand beaches and faded black rocks, to the Massachusetts line and down into Newburyport and out to Plum Island. That stretch of road is one of my favorite rides in a car, but after all these years, I had never done it on a bike. An
d as I sat on my bike, each leg rising and falling in one fluid motion, my lungs working in time with my legs, my back curved low over the handlebars and the wind passing above me, the sound of its rush overwhelming my ears, I was content. The water rolled past, waves drifting in and out, and each noise had its own perfect rhythm. I could be alone with my thoughts, I could dissect problems in time to the motion of my body and the sway of the tide. When a drenching afternoon rain came, washing over me and the road, I was at peace.
In these moments, it is hard not to feel close to God, to be able to ask for guidance, forgiveness, and strength, to be able to confess any doubts or fears, and to be able to give thanks. And on this day, I was thankful. As I rode, I thought back to those other rides, thirty-five or thirty-six years ago, rides of desperation and rides of fear, when I attempted to escape from Salem Street in Wakefield and wind my way through the hills to Newburyport. Those rides were made in anger, frustration, and even grief for the life that I wished I had. They were rides to run away, to leave everything I knew behind.
Now, I find myself riding with a far different purpose. I’m riding to go see my dad. I’m riding to see the smile on his face when the new puppy bounds out of the car. Behind me in the car are Gail, Ayla, Arianna, and the puppy. They left about twenty minutes after me, and I beat them to my father’s house by ten minutes. I checked it on the clock. Even though it was Father’s Day, and I’m now past fifty, I’m still competitive.
And I also know that you go much faster and the journey is much sweeter when you are not riding away from something, but when you have a hopeful destination that you are riding toward.
Acknowledgments
My deepest thanks go to my wife, Gail, and my daughters, Ayla and Arianna. They have been a special blessing in my life, a family that I treasure. I am grateful for their faith in me, for their support, and for their constant love. Gail, thank you for all the days and hours that you have been by my side. It has been more than a quarter century since we met, and when I hear your voice, I know that I am still one of the luckiest men on earth.
My thanks also to my mother and father, and to my sister Leeann, and my other siblings, Robyn and Bruce. I know that parts of this book will be difficult for my parents to read, but they have also proved that the past does not have to determine the future. As adults, we have rediscovered each other, and I am grateful to have them in my life. Leeann, thank you for sharing your memories and your support and encouragement, which have been invaluable. And thank you, Robyn and Bruce, for our bonds.
As soon as I won the election in January 2010, publishers began calling, interested in a book. I had never considered such a project, but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to tell my story, the good and the bad. My hope in sharing my life is that it will give hope to others, that other people who are struggling will be reminded that things can get better.
I want to specially thank Lyric Winik, a terrific and very gifted writer, for the many hours we spent together and particularly for her patience. She listened to me, guided me, and gave me all the time I needed to open up, to talk about the many parts of my life, helping me to thoughtfully convey my experiences, challenges, and successes, as well as to portray the people at the core of this story. Thanks for the care she gave to help put my story into words. Thanks also to her husband, Jay, and their sons, Nathaniel and B.C., who graciously shared her for countless long workdays and never complained about my frequent dinnertime phone calls.
Bob Barnett of Williams & Connolly was vital in making this book project come to pass. I am most appreciative of his dedication and wise and excellent counsel.
At HarperCollins, I wish to thank publisher Jonathan Burnham for his strong support and commitment to this book. Executive Editor Tim Duggan has been an outstanding advocate, and it has been a true pleasure to work with Jonathan and Tim. My thanks to them for having such faith in my life’s story. I would also like to thank other members of the HarperCollins team for their great work on behalf of this book, particularly Tina Andreadis, Chris Goff, Tom McNellis, and Allison Lorentzen.
My heartfelt thanks to the many people who shared their recollections with me, most especially Judge Samuel Zoll, and my coaches—John White and his wife, Cathy; Ellis “Sonny” Lane and his wife, Paula; and Brad and Judy Simpson—as well as Bob Moore. My debts to them over a lifetime are too great to repay. I would also like to warmly thank some of my friends who were always willing to spend some time reliving our pasts, no matter what day or hour I called: Mark Simeola, Jimmy Healy, Mike Quinn, Bruce Cerullo, Bobby Rose, Pabs, Lana, Alb, Turner, Bob Najarian, Billy Cole, Gonzo, and Dave Cornoyer. To paraphrase the poet William Butler Yeats, I can truly say, “My glory is I have such friends.”
My special thanks to Eric Fehrnstrom, Peter Flaherty, Beth Myers, and Gail Gitcho for taking their private time to read the manuscript and to offer their very thoughtful and extremely helpful comments. Thanks to Dan Winslow and Liz Figueria for their excellent legal work and key contributions.
Under impossible deadlines, Jo Shuffler was invaluable in producing transcripts that were vital to the manuscript, and she always did it with good cheer. Thanks also to Shannon Power, my cousin and a wonderful professional photographer, for following me on the campaign trail and so generously sharing her photos. And also to Jenny, Paul, Cindy, Anne, Jonathan, and Callie, my Zeta Psi brothers, and Tufts and BC Law buddies, as well as the Monadnock Sportsmen’s Club, the Bay State triathlon team, and my many friends in Wrentham. Thanks to North Attleboro Selectman John Ryhno and his wife, Sherri, for all their help over the years on the campaign trail. And to State Senator and Mrs. Richard Ross. My thanks as well to Major General Joseph Carter of the Massachusetts National Guard for his leadership. Also to Mitt Romney and John McCain for their support when it most mattered. And to Beth Lindstrom and so many others who were part of the special election campaign team.
I’m very appreciative of the hard work of Steve Schrage, a brilliant policy analyst and a wonderful guy, who stepped in to run my U.S. Senate office from its first days through the November 2010 elections. My thanks also to Greg Casey for his assistance in Boston and D.C. and to my entire D.C. and Boston U.S. Senate team for dealing with the vital and challenging issues that face our nation and the people of Massachusetts every day.
In the U.S. Senate, I have benefited enormously from the thoughts and friendship of many of my colleagues. I would particularly like to acknowledge Mitch McConnell, Jon Kyl, John Thune, Mark Warner, Orrin Hatch, Richard Burr, Lindsey Graham, Bob Casey, Tom Carper, Mark Udall, Olympia Snowe, and Susan Collins.
I would like to add a personal note of thanks to Sister Katie and the nuns of Mount Saint Mary’s Abbey in Wrentham. I came to know them when they needed some assistance while I was in the state legislature, but I found them in so many ways to be an example to me. My family and I have been uplifted by their prayers; my daughter Ayla has gone to work and sing with them in the fields when they harvest their summer crops. Although I am not a Catholic, I am grateful to have been touched and welcomed by their deep faith.
There are also several books that were particularly useful in preparing this book, and I’d like to acknowledge them and their authors: History of Middlesex County, Massachusetts, by Samuel Adams Drake, Estes and Lauriat Publishers, Boston, 1880; Massachusetts, A Concise History, by Richard D. Brown and Jack Tager, University of Massachusetts Press, Amherst, 2000; The Boston Irish, a Political History, by Thom
as H. O’Connor, Back Bay Books, Boston, 1995; and Common Ground, by J. Anthony Lukas, Vintage Books, New York, 1986. In addition, in reviewing events from the 2009 to 2010 special election for the U.S. Senate in Massachusetts, articles that appeared in the Boston Globe, the Boston Herald, and the Sun Chronicle were particularly useful, as were archived radio and television footage. Thanks to Dan Rea’s show Nightside for supplying an audio file of the 2009 election forum.
Finally, I would especially like to thank the people of Massachusetts and around the nation who have offered their support, not only during the election, but in the year that has followed. I am humbled and honored by the chance to serve you and our country. I also hope that some of the readers of this book will decide that they too can go out and make a difference. Please get involved, join a team, help coach some kids, run for local office. In my life, the people who have done just that have made all the difference.
About the Author
U.S. Senator SCOTT BROWN was elected by the people of Massachusetts on January 19, 2010, to fill the term of the late senator Ted Kennedy. He lives in Wrentham, Massachusetts, with his wife, Gail, and their two daughters, Ayla and Arianna.
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Credits
Author photograph © Mary Noble Ours
Copyright
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