Kevin R. Brock, one of the FBI’s most transformational leaders in the years following 9/11, passed away last month.
According to his obituary, Kevin “served as a lector in his local parish and participated in a prison ministry. His love for the FBI and the Catholic Church inspired his efforts to improve both institutions, the former via a series of articles and media appearances and the latter by investigating corruption and helping to bring justice for victims of abuse.”
FBI Director Robert Mueller clearly recognized Kevin’s unique organizational skills and leadership abilities. In 2004, Kevin was selected the first assistant director for intelligence for the FBI’s new Intelligence Directorate, acting on recommendations from the 9/11 Commission.
Of Kevin’s appointment, Mueller stated, “To be fully successful, the Office of Intelligence requires personnel with a wide range of work experience and knowledge of every sector within the FBI. Kevin’s wealth of experience and expertise in nearly all of the FBI’s priority areas is invaluable.”
In 2005, pursuant to a post-9/11 presidential initiative, Kevin was appointed as the first principal deputy director of the National Counterterrorism Center, serving in that capacity until his retirement in 2007.
During his 24-year career, Kevin’s other bureau assignments included special assistant to the FBI’s deputy director and field assignments in Detroit, Seattle, Los Angeles and Albuquerque. In recognition of his exceptional leadership and dedication, he was presented with the Presidential Rank Award for Meritorious Service to the Nation in 2006.
I met Kevin during the 1980s as a first-office agent in the FBI’s Seattle Division. Kevin was a supervisor with administrative oversight of the division’s fleet of governments vehicles. I had a recent fender bender with a bureau car and was required to report the incident to Kevin.
Back in those days, bureau cars were “sacred cows,” as they had to be shared among agents, dictated by seniority. If you were an agent in the FBI at that time, you were keenly aware of the infamous career enders known as the “three Bs”: booze, broads and bureau cars. The cars topped the list, instilling the utmost dread for probationary agents.
After explaining in agonizing detail what happened, Kevin just smiled and said, “Don’t worry about it. You’re fine.” My spirit soared. I was light as a feather. That was Kevin; a leader with compassion and magnanimity.
Since those early days, our careers took separate paths. We reconnected well after our retirements. In the intervening years, Kevin had established NewStreet Global Solutions, providing consulting and technical solutions to companies supporting public safety and the intelligence community.
We would occasionally meet for a beer and share our concerns about how and why the FBI was becoming unrecognizable from the organization we had devoted a good part of our lives to. By then, I’d read many of Kevin’s edgy, but spot-on, opinion pieces addressing the numerous FBI controversies that had erupted since our retirement. Kevin had eloquence and a unique talent for the written word.
Kevin was a patriot and stalwart supporter of the FBI, committed to preserving the integrity of the institution. He never hesitated to call out those who abused their authority, violated the public’s trust or dishonored the FBI.
Kevin always seemed to exude an inner strength. He kept his illness private, as I expect he simply wanted to be perceived as the same Kevin by those of us who knew him and cherished his friendship and generosity.
Attending the visitation with family and friends prior to Kevin’s funeral was truly moving. While Kevin’s devotion to his Catholic faith was evident as a source of strength, it was equally clear that this strength emanated from those closest to him. What was truly remarkable was discovering the rich tapestry of Kevin’s life beyond his career in the FBI and public service.
In his wife of 42 years, Kevin found the soulmate of his prayers, and together they became parents blessed with eight children: seven daughters and one son. During the visitation, I made a point of checking on Kevin’s son, who has remarkably thrived despite the odds. He’s now evening the score with four boys of his own. Once again, well done, Kevin.
The Brock family’s resilience is truly remarkable. Kevin courageously battled his illness for eight years, undergoing numerous treatments in a private struggle to extend his time on this earth. Throughout this journey, Kevin’s wife and children exhibited incredible strength and grace, warmly welcoming friends, visitors and even previously unknown FBI colleagues like myself who came to pay tribute to a unique individual they admired or who had touched them in some way.
Kevin’s family likely came to terms early on with the reality that his days in this life were coming to an end. Yet, amidst their sorrow, there was also a palpable sense of relief knowing that his pain and suffering would finally cease. While there was undoubtedly loss and grief, there was no room for regret, only a profound acceptance that it was Kevin’s time to be called home.
I will miss Kevin and our chats over beers.
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace. Amen.
Mark D. Ferbrache was an FBI agent from 1983 to 2011 specializing in white-collar criminal investigations. He later worked in the bureau’s National Security Division and CIA’s Counterterrorism Center. He is currently employed as a contractor in the U.S. intelligence community.