I'm sure it comes as no surprise to any frequent visitor to this page that I possess a fascination with women pioneers.
I'm not talking about those who hoisted up their skirts and headed west on wagons and horseback with children strapped to their hip, although these women are admirable, indeed.
But rather pioneers of new industries, those who saw an opportunity and jumped in with both feet.
I've gushed over Alice Guy-Blaché, for example, the premier French female pioneer filmmaker. And Hedy Lamarr, who invented the technology that would be used in cell phones.
This week, our country lost another pioneer, at the impressive age of 106.
Television was a fledgling industry in 1953 when Lillian Brown volunteered to produce an educational program in Arlington, Virginia. She also hosted a children's educational series, which was filmed in the same studio as Face the Nation.
The producers of the popular political news program noticed that guests on Brown's show wore make-up -- even the men. They approached her to ask if she'd be willing to touch up the guests on their show. For which they would pay her $19.
She agreed. Her first subject was Sam Rayburn, whose bald spot was a positive beacon under the stage lighting, as Brown saw by looking at the monitors. Lillian added a touch of powder that made all the difference.
While she was not trained as a cosmetologist, Brown discovered she had a knack for make-up artistry, and continued to work for Face the Nation, even as, in 1956, she became the director of radio and television for George Washington University, where she created one of the first television courses for credit.
Dwight Eisenhower was the first president to enjoy the benefits of Brown's make-up tools. John Kennedy sat in her chair, first as a senator. Kennedy was himself a pioneer in grasping the importance of how to present oneself on the small screen. He wanted to understand every detail of the process, from camera lenses to lighting to makeup.
Brown also assisted first ladies in their TV appearances, perhaps most famously for Jacqueline Kennedy for her White House tour in 1962.
Not limiting herself to make-up, Brown was also quick to jump in to correct wardrobe faux pas. A screamy tie, for example. Or an unsightly bit of leg when the gentleman crossed his legs. She kept such accessories as ties and knee-high black socks in her bag of tricks.
In all, Ms. Brown served nine presidents. Including Richard Nixon. One of her biggest challenges was preparing him for his resignation speech. She found Nixon a sobbing mess when she arrived. Nothing she said could console him. Any makeup she applied was washed away.
Then she had a brainstorm, recalling a story about a Christmas tree, the President's dog and getting locked in a bathroom by a secret service agent. That did the trick, Nixon laughed, and minutes before the broadcast, Brown was able to complete her task.
Brown once told The Times, “Unlike high-fashion makeup artists who want to make a person look as glamorous as possible, my goal is to make people look exactly like themselves.”
A native of Huntsville, Ohio, there was nothing to indicate where Lillian Brown's life would take her. She earned a two-year teaching degree and worked at a rural school for several years before moving to Cleveland, where she worked at a local department store. She also joined a women's orchestra, playing the violin.
In later life, she continued to teach in a variety of venues, and at the age of 75 published the first of many books.
When she retired at age 95 from Georgetown University, where she taught a public-speaking course, the school begged her to stay.
A life well-lived by a woman who saw a need and filled it.
And kept learning all her life.
