By Eric Millirons
Special Correspondent.

On Wednesday, Aug. 25, in the Richmond Times-Dispatch, there was a very small obituary that probably went unnoticed by the majority of those who read such portions of the paper. Very short and simply written, it told of the death of an 82 year old lady at the Pamunkey Indian Reservation.

I had the distinct pleasure of meeting Isabelle “Still Water” Brown in February 2007 at the Pamunkey Indian Museum. She was quite a host, showing my wife and me the various relics and artifacts of her people that went from prehistory to the present. She spoke with a genuine pride of her heritage, and how there were some who were learning the ways of their forefathers in crafting the various pots for which the tribe is noted. She mentioned that she looked forward to the coming spring when she could again work with the pottery like her people before her. She told me that before she retired, she had worked with autistic children. She also remarked that she was quite proud of her three sons, as any mother would be.

Still Water was as charming as she was intelligent. She could speak about the “atl-atl” used by her people to hurl spears as easily as she could recount the tribal oral history of how Opechancanough brought Chief Powhatan’s (his brother’s) bones for burial overlooking the Pamunkey River.

I would see Still Water again at the annual presentation of the tribute to the Governor of Virginia in November 2007. She seemed pleased to see me and introduced me to her son, Jeff “Rockman” Brown who, representing the Pamunkey, had presented a 4-point buck to the governor. There was definitely a gleam in her eye and pride in her heart that day.

Still Water’s funeral was held on Friday, Aug. 27 at the museum on the reservation. I regret sincerely that I could not attend. However, in looking through various sources seeking insight into this lady’s life, I came across some brief thoughts attributed to a Native American named White Elk: “When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice.”

Truly, she lived her life so that it was a loss to the world when she passed over. Though none will ever again be able to speak to her, her face will be a constant reminder to those who visit the National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, where a photograph of her, with her son, stands larger than life, as she continues to tell the story of the Pamunkey people - her people.