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Frederic Arthur (Fred) Clark, who had tired of reading obituaries
noting other's courageous battles with this or that disease, wanted it
known that he lost his battle as a result of an automobile accident on
June 18, 2006. True to Fred's personal style, his final hours were
spent joking with medical personnel while he whimpered, cussed, begged
for narcotics and bargained with God to look over his wife and kids. He
loved his family. His heart beat faster when his wife of 37 years Alice
Rennie Clark entered the room and saddened a little when she left.
His legacy was the good works performed by his sons, Frederic Arthur
Clark III and Andrew Douglas Clark MD, PhD., along with Andy's wife,
Sara Morgan Clark. Fred's back straightened and chest puffed out when
he heard the Star Spangled Banner and his eyes teared when he heard
Amazing Grace. He wouldn't abide self important tight *censored*.
Always an interested observer of politics, particularly what the
process does to its participants, he was amused by politician's outrage
when we lie to them and amazed at what the voters would tolerate. His
final wishes were "throw the bums out and don't elect lawyers" (though
it seems to make little difference).
During his life he excelled at mediocrity. He loved to
hear and tell
jokes, especially short ones due to his limited attention span. He had
a life long love affair with bacon, butter, cigars and bourbon. You
always knew what Fred was thinking much to the dismay of his friend and
family. His sons said of Fred, "he was often wrong, but never in
doubt". When his family was asked what they remembered about Fred, they
fondly recalled how Fred never peed in the shower - on purpose.
He died at MCV Hospital and sadly was deprived of his final wish which
was to be run over by a beer truck on the way to the liquor store to
buy booze for a double date to include his wife, Rush Limbaugh and Ann
Coulter to crash an ACLU cocktail party.
In lieu of flowers, Fred asks
that you make a sizable purchase at your local ABC store or Virginia
winery (please, nothing French - the *censored*) and get rip roaring
drunk at home with someone you love or hope to make love to. Word of
caution though, don't go out in public to drink because of the alcohol
related laws our elected officials have passed due to their
inexplicable terror at the sight of a MADD lobbyist and overwhelming
compulsion to meddle in our lives.
No funeral or service is planned. However, a party will be held to
celebrate Fred's life. It will be held in Midlothian, Va. Email
fredsmemory@yahoo.com for more information. Fred's ashes will be fired
from his favorite cannon at a private party on the Great Wicomico River
where he had a home for 25 years. Additionally, all of Fred's friend
(sic) will be asked to gather in a phone booth, to be designated in the
future, to have a drink and wonder, "Fred who?"
Published
in Richmond Times-Dispatch on July 9, 2006
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Tim
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Totally the best obit ever written. I am stealing, too. I would have loved to be Fred's one friend.
ReplyDeleteBuzz D
For real. He lived near me.
ReplyDeleteLt. Col. Gen. Tailgunner dick
Very nice! Change a location here, change a name there and it will work for me too. Not exactly a last will but definitely a testament.
ReplyDeleteClassic. I'm making a copy of this to act as a model for my own. I doubt, however, that my Lovely Bride would allow it to be published.
ReplyDeleteBrigadier Major Mike
Are you sure he is dead? You didn't see his death certificate.
ReplyDeleteBased on the roll over part of him's O.K.
ReplyDeleteTim
Please tell me it's not Fred Reed
ReplyDelete(fredoneverything.net)
Are you sure he is dead?
ReplyDeleteQuite sure. I'll just say again, he lived near me, the obit is for real, and he's gone. I'll say nothing further to respect his family's privacy.
Lt. Col. Gen. Tailgunner dick
Fred Reed, (fredoneverything.net),
ReplyDeleteis an admirer of Joan Baez.
No thanks.
Couldn't have been Fred Reed....Fred Reed is an admirer of Joan Baez.
ReplyDeleteCouldn't have been Fred Reed
ReplyDeleteHe's in Mexico somewhere, not Midlothian.