Don't worry about the past and don't worry about the future.
  • 93 years old
  • Born on July 12, 1920 .
  • Passed away on March 21, 2014 .

MEMORIAL SERVICE, ARLINGTON CEMETERY, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 14, 1pm

The Memorial Service for Fred at Arlington National Cemetery is scheduled for Friday, November 14, at 1pm. For those who would like to attend, please meet at the Administration Building (tell the security guards you are there for a service) at 12:30pm. You will need a car to drive to the burial site.

Following the service, you are invited to a small reception at Anna's condo on Capitol Hill, 1335 A Street, SE, Unit C. Please call Ann (703-628-3734) or Fred (703-628-3040) if you get lost and need directions. 

Donations may be made in Fred's name to the causes he loved: Appalachian Trail Conservancy and Marine Corps Heritage Foundation.

Facebook post from Fred's granddaughter, Anna:

Grandad was 93 years young. While he retained the wisdom of a 93 year old who had been through so much, he still carried himself with the spunk of a 23 year old. When I got a crick in my neck, he always had a solution for me (Just get a man in your bed!). There was no way to slyly pick a wedgie around him without him remarking to the room, "Are you going to the movies? I saw her picking her seat!" He was the Macgyver of canned soups ("It needs more ketchup!") and the grilled cheese master ("The key is butter on both sides. Both sides!"). And despite his almost weekly driving trips across the country (at last count, he had over 701,000 miles on his truck), he was always there to give advice, to hug me, to show pictures of the bear he encountered and scared away on his latest hike. He was just always there. 

But he was not just my grandfather. And he was never an ancillary character in my life. He was my hero. He was the epitome of what a true gentleman was and taught me how to act like a lady (to a certain extent). He taught me the value of a smile when there aren't many to go around. He taught me how to always laugh and be certain that everything will turn out for a reason, and a positive reason at that. He was a happy man who made friends with everyone and kept a positive outlook despite all the hardships he had been through. He was my Zeus atop Olympus and then one day, he just disappeared. Just like that. And somehow, at 93 years young, it feels like it was too soon. But, for a man like that, I don't think there would ever be a time that I would be ready to say goodbye.

For now, I will just pass the days, remembering him every time I pass a McDonalds, every time I see a HoHo, every time I need advice, every holiday, every time a million little things happen. 

The last and final time I talked to him, he said, "Just keep smiling, Smurf. No matter what." And I guess, for him, one of the most honorable, respectable, loving men I will ever have the pleasure of not just knowing but calling my Granddad… for him, I'm going to keep smiling. No matter how hard it might be right now.

 

Posted by Laurie Potteiger on 12th July 2017
Remembering Fred during his birthday week. What a guy! He is missed.
Posted by Laurie Potteiger on 21st March 2017
I miss Fred's visits to the Appalachian Trail Conservancy. Re-reading these tributes to his life sure makes me smile.
Posted by Nancy Benefiel on 21st March 2015
As a little girl growing up in Beltsville, MD I always looked forward to the visits of Fred and Miriam (our cousins) from Georgia. My Aunt Cora Lee and Miriam were so close. Miriam was a sweetie. Fred was always pulling pranks/jokes on everyone. He always always had a smile on his face. He was such an inspiration to me and everyone. When I heard he walked the Appalachian Trail once he retired, I was ever more impressed. The world lost a wonderful human being. Will forever miss you!
Posted by Sue Cavendish on 21st March 2015
Unc' Fred was top grade Warmed our hearts and made us smile Best Unc' ever made Peace & Love, Sue
Posted by Laurie Potteiger on 15th April 2014
Fred was such a gentleman, and so considerate. He knew how to make you feel special and went out of his way to do so. I will never forget the last day I saw him. He came into the Appalachian Trail Conservancy in Harpers Ferry, just about a week before he passed unexpectedly. He was grinning from ear to ear when he walked through the door. The smile stayed on his face the whole time as he asked about the most recent crop of hikers and reminisced about his own A.T. hike. He was so happy and looked so full of life I asked him what his secret was. He said, "Don't worry about yesterday and don't worry about the future." Then he paused and added, "Don't worry about today either!" But I also think part of his secret to being so joyful was being focused making other people happy. I am so grateful to have known Fred.
Posted by Sue Cavendish on 13th April 2014
So many memories of our favorite, Uncle Fred. I don't know where to begin so I'll begin with my earliest memory. All 4 of my family (mom and dad, aka Millie and Dave Hazard, sister Marilyn and me) went out for a few hours. Aunt Mim (Miriam) and Uncle Fred lived within walking distance in post WWW housing community known as Greenbelt. So we came home to a huge Yard Sale sign and found our belongings - toys, furniture, clothing - outside in the yard with price tags on them. It seems that Mim and Fred decided to pull a fast one on us. Imagine how frightening a scene that would be. This story got told many times over the years as we recreated the scenario with laughter! Another popular story - this one another Fred original. Early family vacations as a child were at Cobb Island, MD where we stayed in cozy, primitive cottages and went crabbing, fishing, boating. The cottages had partial walls up 7 feet or so, but not all the way up to the open beamed exposed ceiling/roof. So one morning, my parents were awakened by close up view of a live Maryland Blue Crab dangling over their heads with pinchers pinching and claws snapping hung from a fishing line over the wall. It seems that Uncle Fred got up early and caught the first crab of the day. Evidently he invented this alternative to the alarm clock and the screaming voices probably woke up all of Cobb Island. Millie Hazard was the original "lemon meringue pie" baker. (This was before Melissa took over that role.) Mom's were said to be the winningest, painstakingly prepared with everything from scratch. Fred told Mom that her pies were good but that she should keep trying for better. And Millie kept baking, just for Fred. So anytime Fred visited Maryland, Millie instructed him to "call first" instead of stopping by. That's so she could get out the rolling pin and start baking. One thing for sure, even in here 80's, she never made just one pie. It was always a two-for: One pie for service with the meal, and one pie for Fred! After Mom passed away in 2001, Fred was on a search for a new personal baker - that's where Melissa took on the lemon pie baker role. Another story is the time Rick was a new baby. Millie and Dave had the opportunity to "get back" at new parents Mim and Fred. So Aunt Millie and Uncle Dave were babysitting for Cousin Rick (younger Fred). Well all was fine until Mim and Fred returned to check on their bouncing baby boy to see him dressed up in a pink girl's bonnet - immediately removed by Mim and Fred. How shocking for the new parents! Uncle Fred called me before he was going on his Appalachian Trail hike to invite me to go along. That's when I would have been in better shape and was doing some day hikes in the area. My reasons for saying, "I can't," were twofold: 1) I was a single mom with a middle school son and 2) I had a mortgage to pay. As the story turned out, nothing stopped Uncle Fred from going and completing the 2000 mile trip by himself in one season. You know what they say, "Once a Marine....." Little did I know that his hiking would continue into his 90's! And too, like father, like son - so Cousin Rick, keep hiking! A few years ago, I asked Uncle Fred why he didn't move back to the MD/VA area. He said, "Why would I want to do a thing like that?" I said that all of the family who care about you are here and we could see you more often. He said something about not wanting to move from his house in Stockbridge and that he'd just let his son, RIck, take care of it after he died. (Seems like that part is coming true, Sorry Rick and Ann.)

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