When Tia Hopkins-Ghee’s grandmother died, she had known many Baltimore City Public Schools employees for years, but only one came to the funeral: Martise “Marty” Brown.

She wasn’t expecting him, but then again, maybe that’s why she should have. Brown was always there to help — whether it was a student navigating a tough school transition, a teacher trying to understand their union rights or a friend looking for someone to lean on, those who knew him said.

“That was Martise,” Hopkins-Ghee said. “He did not always have to be in the front. He was just as willing to work from the background. But, when someone needed him, he showed up.”

Other colleagues likened him to a church usher or a store greeter — the first friendly face you saw when you had a question, the first person who made you feel welcome in a new space and could help you find your footing.

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It’s what makes his absence feel so large now. Brown, 35, died Aug. 15.

Brown grew up in Baltimore’s public school system and never left, joining the district’s support staff after graduating from Towson University and working his way up to lead secretary. He worked in the district for nearly two decades and knew the school system inside and out, loved ones said. No issue was too big to tackle.

“I used to say, ‘If no one else knows, Brown will know,’ because of the knowledge he carried and how willing he was to help others,” said Kiamonique Martin, Brown’s teammate in the Office of Enrollment, Choice and Transfers. “More than anything, Martise had a pure heart.”

He greeted her every day with a “good morning, Sunshine,” or “good morning, Beautiful.”

Even as a teenager attending Mergenthaler Vocational-Technical High School, he helped with administrative tasks and consulted regularly with faculty and staff, colleagues said.

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As a student, Brown was heavily involved in the nonprofit Baltimore Urban Debate League, where he met lifelong friends, colleagues and mentors. Deitrick Goodwin was a young teacher when he met Brown during debate practice. He remembers wondering how Brown could be so nurturing and sharp at age 16.

Martise Brown.
Colleagues likened Martise Brown to a church usher or a store greeter — the first friendly face you saw when you had a question. (Baltimore City Public Schools)

“He was in the beginner classroom, but because Martise caught on so quickly, he was always aiding students who couldn’t quite understand the concept,” Goodwin said. “He was also kind of the teacher’s pet. He was always willing to assist, hand out papers, make copies, collect papers.”

Goodwin worked closely with Brown throughout his high school tenure, impressed by his passion for debate and willingness to help other Baltimore high schools start their own clubs. As the years went on, their relationship turned friendlier, more personal. That’s when Goodwin finally got to meet the witty side of his mentee.

Erika Vaughn, a high school friend and debate teammate, had known that version of Brown for years. They always snacked on pizza and joked during debate prep breaks. Later, as adults, they took a trip to Atlantic City, New Jersey, where they spent days trying to re-create a Coors Light commercial at the beach.

She, too, saw how Brown gave everything he had to his city’s public schools. He even had his own set of keys to Mervo.

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“Oh, yeah, I’m here all the time,” she remembers him saying when they volunteered at the school once while they were in college.

“Even when most of us are just figuring out what we want to do with our lives, Martise just knew that he wanted to be of use to the students of Baltimore, even when he was close in age to them,” Vaughn said.

In fact, Hopkins-Ghee thought Brown was a colleague when she met him at Mervo because he was so professional. She’s about 20 years his senior.

As the years went on, he became as much a mentor to her as he was a mentee — and a good friend and confidant. He didn’t just give good advice. He gave action plans.

But she knew not to call him some evenings. He bowled in a league and wouldn’t get done until 10:30 or 11 p.m. By then, she was ready to go to bed and they’d joke about her being an old lady.

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He also formed an endearing relationship with her daughter — so close that Hopkins-Ghee asked him to be her daughter’s godfather.

Martise Brown.
Martise Brown grew up in Baltimore’s public school system and joined the district’s support staff after graduating from Towson University, working his way up to lead secretary. (Baltimore City Public Schools)

“His consistency, character, reliability and genuine concern for her future are the qualities that made him family to us and made him someone I trusted in such an important role in her life,” she said.

Brown could talk to anyone, deescalate a tense situation and decide when to take charge and when to take a backseat, she said. Colleagues said that’s what also made him a good resource for others as a leader in the teachers union.

“I believe education gave him an opportunity to do what came naturally to him: help people, solve problems, provide information and open doors for others,” she said.

Brandon Tilghman, Brown’s supervisor in the enrollment office, agreed.

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“There are moments now when I still expect to see him walk into the office or hear his voice,” he said. “His absence is deeply felt, but so is his impact — and I think that is one of the greatest things you can say about a person’s life.”

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