Mel Farman  , of Bedford, Massachusetts, formerly of Winchester and Lowell, died on August 15, 2020. He passed away peacefully after a lengthy battle with cancer, outliving his prognosis by three years through tenacity, optimism, and force of will. He was 84.

Mel was born in Lowell to Anne Portnoy Farman, of Chelsea, Massachusetts, and Max Farman, a Russian immigrant. Max started a junkyard to support the family, and Mel and his brothers worked long hours there after school and on weekends. Years of ripping coils out of mattresses, baling newsprint, sorting rags, and breaking down refrigerators left Mel with a profound respect for manual labor and a profound determination to avoid it.

He was an effortless overachiever. In high school, he was on the debate team and the newspaper staff; he was an officer of Aleph Zadik Aleph, an international youth-led fraternal organization for Jewish teenagers; a major in the Boy's Regiment, and a writer for the  Lowell High School Review  . In college, at the University of Pennsylvania, he was the president of his fraternity, Tau Epsilon Phi, a member of the Sphinx Senior Society and the Varsity Boat Club, the manager of the Penn Crew; and a writer and editor for the  Daily Pennsylvanian  . In his senior year Mel received a letter inviting him to work at  Time  magazine  ,  and though he declined the job, he kept the letter in a scrapbook alongside a collection of clips, news stories, yearbook photos, awards, snapshots, and diplomas.

Graduating from Penn in 1957 with a BA (with honors) in Journalism, Mel first employed his finely honed linguistic skills to write marketing copy for Prudential Insurance. To alleviate the boredom, he and his coworker Robert B. Parker (who would become his best friend and later the bestselling detective novelist) moonlighted, unsuccessfully, as Parker/Farman, the "world's smallest advertising agency." The agency's address was in the historic Berkeley Building, noted in later years as the office for Parker's iconic detective Spenser.

Mel quit Prudential when he was told he was being promoted; he was afraid that by his own ennui he would spend his entire career writing about term life insurance products. He didn't want a 9 to 5, and while he went on to lead visual communications at Arthur D. Little, and served as the principal writer for Herman and Lees, a design communications company in Cambridge, he was a freelancer for most of his professional life.

Mel was a storyteller and a master of brand identity before brand identity was a thing. He worked with clients including Polaroid, Raytheon, the Aga Khan, the Smithsonian, the National Gallery of Art, and George Washington University, and consulted for government agencies including the Department of State, the Department of Justice, and the Treasury. He wrote scripts for documentaries, including  The Power to Change,  a 1980 film about renewable energy narrated by Joanne Woodward, and a late 1970s-series of nutrition films. (He lobbied to title the film on geriatric nutrition "One Foot in the Gravy" but was overruled.)

He traveled the world, from Paris to Karachi to Sardinia and Moscow and Cairo and Jerusalem.  He wore suits only when necessary, didn't do meetings before noon, and worked almost exclusively on projects he was interested in with people he liked.  He created the career he wanted, and with his wife, Luann, the life he wanted to live.

Mel had dinner with Bob Parker in Harvard Square almost every Friday night for more than 40 years.  He was an early reader for Bob's crime novels, and, in the pre-Cloud era, the keeper of the drafts.  Mel worked with Bob's widow, Joan, to choose a writer to continue the best-selling Spenser series, and then worked with Ace Atkins, the writer they chose, to help keep Spenser true to Bob's vision. In the process, Ace and Mel became very close friends.  For nearly a decade, Mel helped Ace with his research in Boston and throughout Massachusetts.

He loved people, and maintained lifelong friendships with Frank Kaplan, his elementary school classmate, Howie Gardner, who he met in high school, and Gerry Hirschhorn, his college roommate.  He was friends with everyone, from the women who filled his prescriptions at the Bedford pharmacy to the cashiers at Stop & Shop and the neighbors he hung out with at the Condo Association's pool. Even when his health was failing, Mel made the Friday night trek to Harvard Square to see his pals at the Legal Seafood bar, tossing the keys to his 1996 Passat to the laughing valets he considered friends as he climbed out the passenger side door. (The driver's side door didn't open, but—as Mel frequently pointed out—the windows worked fine, and the car drove great.)

Mel was a ferocious reader. He was a scholar of the Holocaust and the rise of the Nazis, and for kicks, he read dense books about history, media, and culture. He was fanatical about music—his playlists  would combine the Andrews Sisters, the Seekers, Hank Williams, the Beatles, Benny Goodman, Mozart, and the Klezmer Conservatory Band—and he was the first person anyone knew with an iPod. He loved Sid Caesar and Mel Brooks and Monty Python and old radio shows. He was curious every day of his life and could answer any question on any subject without breaking a sweat.

In 2014 Mel was diagnosed with colon cancer that later spread to his lungs and his brain. He powered through surgery, chemotherapy, and two rounds of brain radiation, and charmed a phalanx of doctors, nurses, and techs along the way.  He refused to give in or give up, and despite his illness, he was cheerful, self-effacing and funny.  Towards the end of his life, his regular response to "how are you feeling?" was "a little rough around the edges."

He was a man of extraordinary wit and kindness.  He was beloved.

He leaves his wife, Luann Ebert; his daughters, Julie and Suzanne, and her wife Wendy; his granddaughters, Amanda and Hannah; his younger brothers Ed and Barry and their wives Jane and Toby; 13 nieces and nephews; 13 great nieces and nephews; and his ever-loyal canine companion Kendall.

Donations in Mel's memory may be made to:

Save A Dog, Inc

604 Boston Post Road

Sudbury, MA 01776

 https://www.saveadog.org/donations.asp 

Brigham and Women's Hospital

Development Office

116 Huntington Ave., 3rd Floor

Boston MA 02116

 https://give.brighamandwomens.org/give/tribute-and-memorial-giving 

USC Shoah Foundation

University of Southern California

650 W. 35th, 4th Floor

Los Angeles, CA 90089

 https://sfi.usc.edu/get-involved/ways-to-give