" A woman shouldn’t have to be a black belt in karate to walk up and down the streets of Boston, " City Councilor Brian Honan of Brighton said last Tuesday, July 23. A candidate for Suffolk County district attorney, Honan was spearheading the city’s effort to raise awareness about a masked assailant who had been attacking young women in his district — work made more difficult, he reminded me, because of the more than 50 percent turnover in rental units on Comm Ave. He helped organize a community meeting slated for July 25 on the issue, gave me the phone number of his police liaison, and talked about the challenge of rallying the community. But he didn’t tell me that he was scheduled for surgery to remove a malignant tumor at Brigham and Women’s Hospital three days later.

The concern about safety, the sensitivity to neighborhood concerns, the personal stoicism — it was typical Honan. On the morning of July 25, every car on Sutherland Road — in Honan’s district — had a notice about the meeting on its windshield. And that community meeting at St. Columbkille’s Church was the last political event Brian Honan ever attended. He died on the night of Tuesday, July 30, from surgery-related complications. As of the Phoenix’s Wednesday-morning deadline, funeral arrangements had not yet been announced.

At age 39, Honan was unique in the politics of Boston, a city where even the most green politicians learn to deliver killing blows without a second thought. A rising star, he was known for his cheerful and jocular nature. He was always ready with just the right quip to cut through the tension and win you over.

Politically, Honan also represented something special. He was elected to the Boston City Council in 1995, at the age of 32. A former Suffolk County assistant district attorney, he was part of the first wave of young, energetic city councilors that have subsequently taken over that body.

The brother of state representative Kevin Honan, the councilor came out of the Ward 21 political organization of his uncle Charlie Doyle, a long-time political activist. Doyle and the Honan brothers hosted an annual summer cookout at their Gordon Street headquarters, an event always attended by politicians of all stripes. This year, notable guests included the candidates for state treasurer and lieutenant-governor candidate Chris Gabrieli. The year before, Shannon O’Brien herself and Mayor Tom Menino put in appearances. Brian Honan, of course, did much of the hosting. Two years ago, he regaled me with tales of the epic basketball games that he and his brother engaged in as teens in the driveway.

Honan’s politics were progressive. He was committed to the Boston model of law enforcement that focused on heavy community involvement. He thought it vital that Boston maintain healthy race relations after so many years of community tumult.

In Brighton, Honan’s presence could be felt on every street. His ubiquitous blue-and-red campaign signs appeared in every corner store, including the local Indian grocery. After each Labor Day brought its influx of students, Honan made it a point to arrange for special trash pick-up to clean up the streets. It was a small gesture, one that wouldn’t echo in any political biography, but it symbolized his profound commitment to his area. Brian Honan’s life was short, but it touched many others'.