Robert Franklin Brown Jr.
Photo: Philadelphia Inquirer (2025)
Recently, I learned that Bob Brown had passed away. Bob was an accomplished architect in Philadelphia and places around the world.
I met Bob and spent countless hours discussing urban design on his porch, in downtown cafés, and at Planning Commission meetings during my six years as an urban planner in Ashland, Virginia.
In Ashland, we accomplished a great deal to shape the town's future. We updated a 300-page comprehensive plan and built upon that effort by reviewing every development regulation line by line to make it more inclusive and removing conflicting regulatory barriers. We were making missing middle and accessory dwelling unit housing reform years before it became a trend in national urban planning circles.
In the Lauradell neighborhood, Bob was instrumental in helping the town find the right combination of owner and designer to approve the most significant housing development in 30 years.
Other hits: ensuring the correct requirements were in place to facilitate the most significant industrial track preparation in town's history, updating and expanding the historic district of over 200 resources to include Berkeleytown, a historically black neighborhood that had never been captured on the National Register, continuous enhancement of the downtown through quality, infill development and public art, and warding off the state public rail division whose plans would have destroyed the historic center.
All these accomplishments are things I’m very proud of, but what I’ll remember—and what I still use to this day—are his skills in using drawing to communicate and display urban design.
I still use black felt-tip markers because of Bob Brown.
I know how to draw trees, streets, housing, and other items because of Bob Brown.
Bob taught me how to use semi-transparent paper to lay over a printed image and sketch out possibilities. This is a tactic I’ve used at every job since. It’s helped me connect with people and guide community conversations through the most fraught topics.
I’ll miss the friendly cadence of his voice and interest in talking and listening to me, a youngin at the time. My heart goes out to his wife, Mary Lou, kids, and grandkids.
I hope to achieve what Bob did with his life, having a seismic impact on quality urban design and community building, and leaving a wake of lasting relationships and positive impressions on others.
Sleep well, my friend.
For more, you can read obituaries from the Downtown Ashland Association and the Philadelphia Inquirer.