It must have taken place in 1944/1945 or so, when Fred and I were four or five and were best buddies.

It came to pass one day when we were walking by the house of Fred’s next door neighbor, the Johnsons, we saw a few small papers had collected near the bottom a short bush that was close to the front of their house. We thought we’d pull that paper out. We both tried to reach in to get it, but the bush was too prickly for us. We then got this bright idea that we could burn the paper to get it out of the bush. Fred said “I can get some matches from my house” which was next door. He left and soon came back with the matches. We had to get down on our bellies and reach way in to even touch the paper. I don’t remember which one of us struck the match. We were both guilty for sure. I do remember, to this day, seeing the flame get started on the paper. It got bigger and bigger, like our eyes. Well, of course the bush caught fire. We never thought of that. We both were so surprised, we panicked and ran home as fast as we could, never looking back. Fred didn’t have far to go and I had only a quarter of a block to run to get home. I never did see how big the flames got because I never looked back. There were a couple of other bushes next to the one we burnt and they must have ignited too. I don’t remember seeing how scorched the front of the Johnson’s house was or if there was lots of smoke either. I don’t remember anyone coming and putting out the fire either. We just didn’t stick around. Maybe the Johnsons put it out with a hose. I don’t even know if they were home.

I do remember our fathers, Elmer and Harry, telling us in later years that they had to repaint the front of Johnson’s house. I don’t know if that was a big or a little job. I don’t remember getting a spanking or confronting the Johnson’s either.

I still remember seeing that flame on the paper though, getting larger and larger after we lit the paper and how scary it was for us...

Doug Selander

Fred and I loved to have a game of golf every time he came to Rockford. He was very competitive and a good sport. A rare quality for a golfer.

Fondly, 

Fraser Macdonald, Fred's brother-n-law

I have a special memory of my uncle Fred which has had a big impact on my life the past several years. I decided to buy a historic home to create special memories. Uncle Fred helped me at several points with his sound real estate experience. He always let me make my own decisions, but was protective about the best outcome for me. A year into negotiations, and three days before closing, he advised me to walk away from the deal. I reflected on his advice, and did just that, I walked away. This was very hard to do so close to the finish line. He knew how heart-broken I was. We had talked all along though that if this home was meant to be, it would be. 

Two days later, my attorney called and said, "How do you feel about closing on a house on Tuesday?" I couldn't believe it, we were able to work through these final details and I called my Uncle Fred right away. 

After closing, I picked up the keys to my new 'old' home and have had many adventures since then. This summer, I had a family of seven groundhogs out back, a mom and six babies! Uncle Fred loved hearing about me working to get these little guys trapped and relocated to another place as I never thought in a million years that I would be doing something like that. I will always treasure our talks together and will be forever grateful to him helping me through one of my life's biggest turning points.

Thank you for being such a treasured person in my life, Uncle Fred. I will love you always.

Your loving niece, Janet 

One of my favorite memories of my Uncle Fred was him buying some special candies for me when I was a child. I was around four years old, and at my grandparent's home. I was very shy, and I know he wanted to win me over with this bag of candy. The candy was a bag of large, orange marshmallow-like peanuts. Well, I loved those and it made quite an impression! And he did win my heart. They were called 'Circus Peanuts.' You hardly see this candy anymore but, I recently found them in a market while shopping. I immediately thought of my Uncle Fred and that endearing childhood memory when I saw them.

All my love, 

Janet 

Fred was born on our Swedish Grandpa's Fred Anderson's birthday, the 4th of February. Mom got out of the hospital right before Valentine's Day so she told Sandy and I that Fred was our 'little Valentine.'

We had many special memories. Early on, I remember mom making pancakes for breakfast and Fred eating them as fast as she could make them. As kids, we talked about the delicious ice-cream we would get from Elmer's Grocery on Broadway.

Growing up, Fred had his neighborhood buddies that he hung around with that liked to cause mischief. He and a friend were lighting matches and set fire to our cranky next door neighbor's bushes. Mother had to make amends with them. There was one nice neighbor next door, a Mrs. Peterson, who would give cookies to Fred when he knocked on her door.

On Halloween, there was a big parade on Broadway and prizes were given for the best costumes. Mother had dressed Sandy in an antique baby gown and she won a prize. The next year, Fred thought he would get a prize and put on the gown. Well, that didn't go so well. He told the story that a group of boys chased him through an alley with sticks. Then a dog chased after him. The gown was dirty and torn when he finally got home.

Fred confessed some teenage escapades that he had been drag racing with dad's prized white Ford. Our Uncle Dutchie had remarked to Dad, "Harry, I thought I saw Fred driving your car on Mulford Rd." Fred innocently said, "Oh, there are many cars that look like dad's Ford."

When Fred got out of the service, Dad, Mom, I, little Joni and baby Jean went to O'Hare airport to meet him. We waited and waited and no Fred. Dad and I went up the escalator looking for our Air Force Fred in his blue uniform. No Fred. We went back to where Mom was and there was Fred in civilian clothes, grinning from ear to ear. He had come down the escalator on the other side and had seen us looking for him. How happy we were to see him again.

Fred and I had many chats during his illness. We talked about the coyotes and fox sightings we have both had in our yards. Fred had a gruesome fox story, he would always tell many times. I would act like it was the first time I heard it.

My married last name is Macdonald which is a revered Scottish name in Canada. (My husband is Canadian.) I would answer our phone and there would be a voice singing "Old Macdonald had a farm", with E-I-E-I-O. Guess who, our Fred.

My neighbor friend's husband had passed away several years ago and I went to his church service. While we were outside talking with her son, a butterfly kept fluttering around him and then trying to land on his shoulder. He kept trying to brush it away. It was strange. Later, my friend told the story of her being on a lake where they were going to disperse her husband's ashes, and a butterfly appeared. "Butterflies shouldn't be that far from land, she said." Was it her husband's spirit?

Several weeks before Fred passed away, I found a beautiful birthday card he had sent me a couple of years before about hummingbirds. It was so touching. I didn't see many of them at my feeders this year, maybe I wasn't looking at the right time. My feeders were down and right after Fred left us, I looked out and there was a hummingbird getting nectar from some of my plants. The next day, Janet said she also saw a hummingbird in her yard for the first time and there are no plants there to attract them. I would like to think that could be Fred's spirit.

These are some of the memories from our life and I will share one more. When we were young and went to visit our Grandparents in Pittsville, Wisconsin, our Grandma had us three kids sing a song we had learned in our Sunday School for her church. It was "This little light of mine, I'm going to let it shine." My brother Fred did let his light shine and his light made a lot of people in his life smile. I will miss him always, forever.  

With love, 

Shirley