I had lost touch with Chris, but he was in my thoughts today and on this site I found out, to my sorrow, that he had died in 2016. My warm wishes and sympathy to Hazel, who I know was his rock during difficult years. Chris and I were colleagues at PCL in the late 1980s and he was a fantastic, brilliant, energetic animator of research activities and a wonderful friend and ally. I know he will be greatly missed by everyone who knew him. Laura (Marcus)

Dear Chris. My esteemed colleague in the scholarly community of American Studies, whose book American Culture and Society was always my 'go to' work whenever I wanted an authoritative perspective on that topic. Chris, you were and will always be--through your work and publications--up there with the best, magisterial and beautiful, a compelling voice. Thank you too for your work on Muhammad Ali--you shared so much with him in enduring courage!

Very much in my mind at the moment as the world is in so much pain. Thinking of your input into my life around literature, the arts and music. Feeling very grateful for your life and love as I head down a path so nurtured by you to give my life meaning. Love always❤️

Miss you more as time goes on.

Several years ago, as part of a visit to the USA, Chris came to visit us in Charlottesville, Virginia. He was particularly interested in the opportunity to take tours of the nearby historic homes of two of America's earliest presidents: Thomas Jefferson the third president, and James Monroe the fifth president. The first tour, at Monticello, Jefferson’s home was a great success, and Chris was delighted to view the extensive collection of books and scientific artifacts in the house designed and built by Jefferson. However during the second guided tour, at the house and gardens of Ashlawn Highlands, the home of James Monroe, Chris somehow became separated in the gardens from the main tour party. He later told us that he had felt the need to step back to adjust his medication. It was also a very warm and sunny day, with many bees in the air pollinating the numerous flowers and shrubs. At some point a staff gardener at Ashlawn noticed Chris, all by himself, gesticulating rather erratically in what the gardener interpreted as a response to several bee stings. The gardener promptly phoned the local Charlottesville emergency ambulance rescue squad to come to the aid of this visitor. The rescue squad, a very efficient local volunteer service, prides itself on delivering any distressed person with medical needs in the Charlottesville area to the University of Virginal hospital emergency room in eight minutes flat. Fortunately Chris had, in fact, not been stung by the bees, and by the time he was installed in the ambulance, was feeling quite calm, as the ambulance, with flashing red and orange lights and very loud sirens raced through the town to the ER. Chris later told us that he felt quite excited by the trip, watching all the traffic make way on the roads for this important visitor. The arrival and experience at the very busy emergency room of a large teaching hospital was subsequently described to us by Chris in a way that only persons who have known and loved Chris for many years will understand. Chris was always a great story teller, and his stories a delight for his listeners. In the busy ER Chris was quickly screened by a medical person, and asked to supply appropriate information to assess the extent and treatment for his reported bee stings. He gave his name and insisted that he did not have any bee stings and had never claimed to have any. He was then asked the address where he was staying. He replied he did not know. He was visiting from England and now staying with his brother, who had met him at the airport just two days earlier. At this point Chris was referred to a more senior medical person, who again asked for his name, which he gave. The next question asked was what was his birthdate? Now Chris smiled and replied as an American Studies expert, “Aha that is an easy question. My birthdate is the same day as Ted Kennedy’s”. Which of course only confounded the senior medical person. (Indeed it is the same day, just 1943 vs 1932). Chris related that he then ended the discussion by announcing that actually he believed his brother Jim worked in the University Hospital Radiology department with an office just down the corridor from the ER and he would be happy to be escorted there. END OF STORY. To Hazel from Jim and Mary-Susan with Love and Peace. We will miss you Christopher Ernest.

And did you get what you wanted from this life even so? I did. And what did you want? To call myself beloved. To feel myself beloved on the earth. Raymond Carver

From Alan and Wendy Morrison: We will always remember Chris as a dear friend and inspiring teacher and colleague. His love of poetry was inspirational and his knowledge of all things American widened one's understanding of the world. He pioneered American Studies throughout the British educational system, sharing his enthusiasm and scholarship with school pupils, teachers, university staff, students & researchers. His work with the Smithsonian established collaborations which continue to flourish. Working with Chris, Eric Mottram from King's College, and Peter Jakab from the Smithsonian's Air and Space Museum, on the Sir George Cayley and Wright Brothers exhibitions, was a never-to-be-forgotten experience. Chris's charm, his sense of humour, his gift for friendship, and his courage and determination, have enriched the lives of all those who knew and worked with him. Chris's poetry events were life- and mind-enhancing. One of the most memorable, on Victorian verse, was mounted at All Saints Church Margaret Street, so there is nowhere more appropriate to light a candle for him.

When I learned I would have to give Jean insulin injections I was alarmed ! It turned out to be easier than I expected. Then Mags' lovely evocation of Tate Britain through the Turner picture reminded me that I had already had training !! I refer to a couple of visits wheeling Chris around and under his instruction administering medication in the Tate men's room . Lesson : when Chris teaches you never forget. from Ralph

Thinking of Chris, I see his radiant face across the PCL library. What beauty. What life! (That’s what we all remember: the life force in him; his positivity even under the burden of Parkinson’s.) I remember even what we were discussing across the library tables: his just having seen and then read Robert Hughes' Shock of the New. So much comes back. Us playing tennis in the early 1990s, in South London and at a court in Kent belonging to your friends, Hazel, or Chris’. Us having hilarious PCL lunches—macaroni never tasted so good--and subdued movie showings—the projectionist was a fellow film-fanatic and died, much too young, just a few years later. Us with Eric Mottram at your home. Us having tea with subdued and courtly Gregory Corso. Us finding Prime Minister Thatcher, her blue purse carried like a cake, walking on Charing Cross Road one summer night, befuddled Dennis striding 20 feet ahead and a lone bobby 10 feet behind. With a mere flick of the will, I can stand with my wife, Jane, in an apartment (yours, Hazel?), the summer blowing in through the windows, as you and Chris and your family and friends celebrate your marriage. For his unforgettable passing, you brought together friends from across the world, most of us in virtual attendance, felt spirits crowding the hospital room, tears on our cheeks, as Norma said, each of us feeling parts of ourselves, our lives, life itself that can only be reached in times of deep emotion. Your courage, Hazel, your grace, openness, trust, and resilience are things for which we can never thank you enough. We will take them to our graves. And, appropriately, among those of us gathered, the most memorable words came from you: "It is like a sanctuary in his room, away from the world and its trouble and strife. It is a healing time for me and Chris. It has been hard, nay oftentimes impossible, to talk/connect with him over the years as he existed in his Parkinson's world of hallucinations and pain. "He can now quietly listen as we come to an understanding and peace about lost times and opportunities of what might have been and how it could have been so different for us. Although, what we have had is unusual, it has shaped, strengthened and honed me to know what is important and valuable in this little life we all share." Bill Stott

"Joys of the life befitting me and brothers mine,/Our time, our term has come./ Nor yield we mournfully majestic brothers,/We who have grandly fill'd our time;/With Nature's calm content, with tacit huge delight,/We welcome what we wrought through the past,/And leave the field for them." Walt Whitman, "Song of the Redwood Tree" (Chris loved the redwood trees during his and Hazel's stay in Mendocino) Much Love and Sympathy, Bill

“O sleepless as the river under thee, / Vaulting the sea, the prairies' dreaming sod, / Onto us lowliest sometime sweep, descend / And of the curveship lend a myth to God.” ― Hart Crane, The Bridge

It was wonderful knowing Chris and we have been friends for over 20 years after working with him at PCL. When I visited him at the home he would always ask if I had remembered to bring his chocolate. Sorry I couldn, t see you this year. Fondly remembered. Bronwyn

I met Chris through our good friend Bill Issel. They co-edited a series on the U.S. in the 20th Century, and I wrote one of the books. What really touched me was the way he and Hazel comforted and supported me through the dreadful aftermath of a botched love affair in 1980. I followed Chris's life and his struggles through Bill, but finally in 2011, I went to see him in York. So many years had gone by, but Chris remembered me, and we had a lovely afternoon talking about the past, the present, and especially literature. He still had a lot of wit and intelligence, and the great gift of warm friendship. With love, Rochelle (Gatlin) of San Francisco.

I will always remember Chris for his generous friendship and the sharp, incisive and often very humorous observations of the world around him. Hazel you are truly a great inspiration! I hope that now you will be able to be at peace. Our very best wishes. Andreas and Harriet

Obituary - The British Association of American Studies December 12, 2016ASIB Winter 2016By Michelle Green “His friendships were deep, but freely shared”: Christopher Brookeman (1943-2016) It was with immense sadness that I, along with more than forty of Chris Brookeman’s former colleagues and friends across the world, learnt of his final weeks and death on December 1st, 2016 after a lengthy and brave battle with Parkinson’s Disease. Chris’s wife Hazel wrote moving daily reports which brought together many stories and anecdotes about this remarkable person and his extraordinary contribution to American Studies in Britain over many years. Chris was instrumental in many BAAS projects as well as being a prolific writer and inspiring lecturer. All those who knew him will have their own stories to tell but here I have tried to say what Chris Brookeman meant to me. I first met Chris in the late 1970s after he became a leading light in the introduction of the GCSE American Studies and established the American Studies Centre at PCL. At the time I was teaching in an FE college and American Studies became part of our programme. It was clear to me right from the start that here was a person totally committed to seeing an important and relevant (as well as wonderfully stimulating) subject introduced into the curriculum at school and FE level. During those early years I would regularly bring student groups down to London to research in the AS Centre and to be guided in their work or given short lectures by Chris. He also produced and fronted a series of excellent educational videos on American history and culture for this new audience. It was Chris who got me involved with BAAS and set my career on a path that he, in many ways, illuminated for me. He was in fact also one of my referees when I successfully applied for a Fulbright teaching exchange to a college in California in the early 80s; something for which I will be eternally grateful. Some years later Chris was again a driving force and great supporter of my successful attempt to set up a sister organisation to the University of Westminster ASRC in Liverpool. After the AS Centre and I moved (from the FE college) to Liverpool John Moores University, Chris and I continued to work closely together on publishing ventures, teacher training programmes and conferences both for schools and wider academic audiences. Perhaps the peak of all this was in 1999 when along with Sue Wedlake at the US Embassy, we organised a conference on Muhammad Ali. The idea, as always, was Chris’s, as was the title ‘Muhammad Ali: Living Mythically; The American Hero.’ Chris gave one of the lectures that day and this was at a time when the Parkinson’s was beginning to take its toll on him. Only with a determination and commitment I could never in my imagination muster, Chris gave a masterful presentation, as provocative and rewarding as ever, driven on by an immense determination that had the Parkinson’s disease rolling backwards like one of Ali’s opponents. It took a lot out of Chris that day but it was one I will never forget. And how touching is it that like his American Hero Ali, Chris fought the disease like the great boxer, ducking and weaving so that it could not hit him. I know he was proud of the signed photo he had of Ali and how they had both fought the disease together and now in the same year, they have both left us with strong memories and a smile. One thing I learned about Chris from an early stage was on which side of him to stand when talking. He was, as many know, partly deaf in one ear following an injury playing rugby. It was a game he ironically described as ” ..a game for hooligans played by gentlemen..” I also knew that at conferences Chris would always find time to introduce me to colleagues who would be able to assist in the work of the AS Centre, or who would make excellent speakers for schools or academic conferences. He saw everyone involved in teaching American Studies, regardless of the academic level, as colleagues. I also spent many a night in university bars during BAAS conferences being regaled with stories that had me rolling in laughter with Chris; his mischievous laugh will be with me for ever. Thank you Chris, for everything you helped me with, for showing me paths to follow, for introducing me to many interesting folk and steering me away or saving me from a few inveterate bores. Thank you for being an inspiration. Thank you for being a friend. Ian Ralston is Director of the American Studies Centre at Liverpool John Moores University. Chris Brookeman never lost sight of the importance of maintaining the teaching of American Studies in schools. The schools networks that he helped develop were unrivalled. In co-operation with BAAS he defended the viability of American Studies in teacher training, and contributed centrally to the establishment of an American Studies GCE, and to an effort to introduce A level American Studies that was eventually derailed only by the government’s sweeping changes to education in the 1980s. A small part of the outreach he achieved was an annual week-long summer term course that brought school pupils from all over London to the Polytechnic of Central London. During Wimbledon fortnight he filled the venerable (and at that time noticeably unrestored) with students and their teachers during the day, and took his guest lecturers home to watch the tennis in the evenings, generating a heady mix of cultural, political and sporting conversation that lasted for days on end. His enthusiasm was infectious and magnetic. He was not much of a committee person, but his presence at BAAS conferences seemed to be accompanied by a small personal maelstrom wherever he went. He was always pleased to meet you. His friendships were deep, but freely shared. His reach was international, affecting teachers of American Studies in San Francisco and Texas as well as within the confines of Greater London. The links that he and Alan Morrison forged between PCL/Westminster University and the Smithsonian are valued today. Chris’s energetic support for multidisciplinary American Studies was immensely valuable at a time when the subject was under threat and the community owes much to him. There can have been no better prize for Chris, though, than meeting Hazel through the work in which he invested so much of himself. Chris’s struggle with Parkinson’s started early and lasted for decades. Hazel and her family have maintained and loved him throughout. Philip Davies is Director of the Eccles Centre for American Studies at the British Library.

Too many wonderful memories of Chris to note here, but what a lovely, intelligent, thoughtful and amusing man Chris was. He enriched many lives and will always be in my thoughts for all he did. Thank you Hazel for letting us be part of this...and what wonderful photographs to treasure with memories. Ian Ralston

Hazel, to witness your care and love for Chris through the years, has been an inspiration. I will never forget the time we were together at Queen's square clinic; when the clinicians had given up on Chris, you stood firm and spoke loud on his behave. Love Nuri

We hope that you find this tribute to Chris a place of comfort, support and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.