Death
Brown died at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles on Tuesday February 28, 1978, at 1:25 a.m. Pacific Time, from lung cancer, and was buried at the Church of Christian Fellowship in Los Angeles on Thursday March 2. In attendance were all of both the cast and crew of The Jeffersons, including show producer Norman Lear. Cast member actor Paul Benedict who had developed a close friendship with Brown was invited to be one of the memorial speakers. Despite inclement weather conditions, many of the Hollywood 'old guard' were also in attendance, and the funeral was covered by both local and national media. A widow, she was survived by her brother, Wendell Cully; her two children, a daughter Polly Buggs wife of John A. Buggs who was deputy director of the U.S. Civil Rights Commission in Washington, D.C., at that time, and a son Emerson Brown, as well as four grandchildren, and two great grandchildren. She was preceded in death by her parents, husband James M. Brown, Sr., son James M. Brown, Jr., and a baby daughter in 1919.
She was posthumously awarded an NAACP special Image Award on June 9, 1978, at the 11th Annual NAACP Award ceremony.
Read more about this topic: Zara Cully
Famous quotes containing the word death:
“To fear death, my friends, is only to think ourselves wise, without being wise: for it is to think that we know what we do not know. For anything that men can tell, death may be the greatest good that can happen to them: but they fear it as if they knew quite well that it was the greatest of evils. And what is this but that shameful ignorance of thinking that we know what we do not know?”
—Socrates (469–399 B.C.)
“In taking out an insurance policy one pays for it in dollars and cents, always at liberty to discontinue payments. If, however, woman’s premium is a husband, she pays for it with her name, her privacy, her self-respect, her very life, “until death doth part.””
—Emma Goldman (1869–1940)
“half-way up the hill, I see the Past
Lying beneath me with its sounds and sights,—
A city in the twilight dim and vast,
With smoking roofs, soft bells, and gleaming lights,—
And hear above me on the autumnal blast
The cataract of Death far thundering from the heights.”
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1809–1882)