Throughout Southeast Connecticut, small pantry boxes filled with food have become a silent source of help for many. While residents might already be familiar with Purple Pantry Boxes, the woman behind them possesses a story shaped by loss, determination, and an unwavering belief in dignity.
Sue Brown does not label herself extraordinary; in fact, she remains humble and insists she is not a complicated person.
She was born on Long Island, and after high school, Brown eventually moved to Washington, D.C. She spent several years there before heading to law school at the University of Connecticut. She settled in Hamden, where she raised her two sons, and later moved to Milford, where she has lived for the past decade.
Unlike many law students who enter school unsure of their path, Brown says she knew what she wanted to do from the get-go. The decision came from a story she encountered when she was young, a real case involving a man wrongfully convicted and who passed before his innocence came to light.
“That was it for me,” she recalls, “I decided I was going to be a public defender.”
Brown followed that path for 33 and a half years, where she built a career advocating for people who often had little support within the justice system. Over time, colleagues and clients recognized her dedication and passion; she eventually became the head of the Milford Public Defender’s Office.
“I feel incredibly fortunate,” she says. “I got to spend my career doing exactly what I wanted to do.”
As she approached the final years of her legal career, Brown began noticing something that stayed with her. Every day, she saw an overwhelming number of individuals dealing not only with legal challenges but also with economic hardship and poverty.
Around the same time, she saw a news story about a woman in the Midwest who had built a small pantry in her front yard so neighbors could take food when they needed it. Deciding this was “the best idea” she’d ever heard, Brown got to work.
She proposed placing a similar pantry at the courthouse in Milford, believing it would help people passing through the court system who might be struggling to get by. After months of waiting, however, the plan was rejected over concerns that it might pose a “security hazard.”
Then, in March 2020, when the COVID-19 pandemic shut down businesses across the country, Brown remembered her pantry idea.
“What’s stopping you from doing it now?” a friend asked her.
As she reflected on this question, she realized she had to seize the opportunity. The first version of The Purple Pantry was created in the form of plastic storage bins placed outside with signs asking people to take food but leave the containers. As expected, the bins quickly disappeared.
Eventually, neighbors began to help, supporting the organization by building wood pantry structures instead.
At first, Brown believed that food insecurity in Milford affected only a small number of people. But today, she estimates that close to a third of the population in the area struggles with some level of food insecurity. Many of them are not homeless and not unemployed, but families that simply do not have enough to cover everything at once.
“You can go to work every day and still not have enough to cover your expenses,” Brown says. “Food insecurity isn’t always about being hungry; it’s about wondering where the next meal will come from.”
What began as a small neighborhood project has now grown into a network of pantry boxes across multiple towns, including Milford, West Haven, Branford, East Haven, Ansonia, and Bridgeport. The organization also remains entirely run by volunteers who stock the pantries and operate a home-delivery program for people who cannot easily reach the pantry boxes.
For Brown, this work extends her decades of experience as a public defender, allowing her to help people whom society often overlooks.
Over the years, certain moments have reminded her why the work matters. One day, while restocking a pantry, a man she recognized rushed toward her, dropped his bicycle, and hugged her.
“I got a job,” he told her, “I’m not going to need your help anymore.”
Moments like that resonate with Brown and remind her of the crucial work she does for individuals throughout the area.
As for the purple, it's a largely personal choice. Years ago, Brown’s husband was diagnosed with cancer. After three years of fighting the illness, he passed away, leaving her to raise their sons, who were just 10 and 13 at the time. Shortly after his death, she went to her hairdresser and asked to add purple streaks to her hair. The stylist hesitated and reminded her that she was a lawyer who appeared in court daily.
Brown insisted: “I need to wake up every morning, look in the mirror, and smile.”
Purple had always been her favorite color, and the streaks became a reminder to find light even in the darkest moments. Now, over a decade later, the purple remains.
Brown’s relationship with her two sons is grounded in love and deep resilience. After losing their father, she raised them while building her career as a public defender. Now adults, they remain closely connected; her older son lives in Brooklyn and is preparing for law school, while her younger son works in New Zealand’s growing film industry.
Approaching 65, Brown laughs when asked about the future: “I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up.”
In her free time, Brown often practices yoga, volunteers in the community at the Milford Arts Council, and enjoys simple moments that help her stay connected with the people she loves.
But until the day that communities do not need the pantries anymore, she will continue stocking boxes, organizing volunteers, and working to build a world where nobody has to face hardship alone.
"I need to wake up every morning, look in the mirror, and smile."
"You can go to work every day and still not have enough to cover your expenses. Food insecurity isn’t always about being hungry; it’s about wondering where the next meal will come from."