A few weeks before his death, Fred telephoned a friend and talked about the event that he saw coming. His part of the conversation went something like this: “I have had a fulfilled life, I am 76 years old, I have enjoyed a wonderful marriage, I am the father of three fine sons, I am blessed with six grandchildren, and I am glad to have lived in this city for most of my life.”
Hearing about this conversation, as I did at the reception held by Fred’s family in their home a few days after his death, buoyed me up. The spirit with which he finished his life was of a piece with the way he had lived it. He was a man who enjoyed both being where he was and the people with whom he associated.
And yet, his personal style was quite unconventional. For example, for many years I had never seen him dressed up. Instead, he would spend time at City Hall wearing khaki pants, open shirt, and sneakers, instead of the professional clothes worn by others who worked there. In my early days working there, I often wondered who this person without apparent portfolio could be.
But Fred was never a city employee. Rather, he was a citizen who gave his time freely to the city in which he lived. As a person of some wealth, he was free to give professional services to the community without financial recompense. This he did over a period of four decades, serving on the planning board and in other important positions in which he felt he could make a difference.
In fact, he did so by reason of his superb skills as thinker and problem-solver. To the issues faced by municipal government he brought his training as a lawyer, combined with a great store of practical knowledge gained by his work as a builder and inventor. In receiving services from him, our city benefited in a wide variety of ways.
Most citizens knew nothing of this man’s generosity to their community. Though his service on municipal boards brought him before the public, most of his work remained behind the scenes as he dealt with difficult and complicated issues. To my knowledge, Fred never sought to draw attention to himself but instead felt content to help in whatever he could.
I was always impressed by the way he dealt with people of all sorts. He did not let his own emotions stand as a barrier between himself and others. This inner freedom allowed him to negotiate successfully where people with large vested interests would fail. Whenever he offered counsel to me in my capacity then as a city official, I found it imaginative and yet practical.
Of all his public interests, the most important was housing. He championed formulas that would allow poor people to stay in the city in decent and affordable homes. At the same time, he worked on preserving the historical character of the city’s buildings while helping with commercial development as well.
The details behind all these areas of Fred’s activities are known to only a few others and would not be of interest to many readers. The main point is this man’s extraordinary service to other people, sustained over so many years. His seems an unparalleled record of generosity directed toward the community of fellow citizens.
Though I had many conversations with Fred over the years, I never asked him about his motivation. Probably such an initiative on my part would have led nowhere. I suspect that he did not want recognition of his good deeds; he might never have expressed to himself in so many words what drove him to work so hard for others.
But I feel inspired by what he did. A man who had an advanced education at famous schools, who could have gained top positions in the world of work, he decided early in his carrier to walk to a different rhythm. He remained very much his own man and found time to do private projects that interested him too, but his work for the public and the common good remains as his chief legacy, one deserving of deep respect.
Richard Griffin