1970

P.O. Box 3934 Modesto, CA 95352

In place of a column this month I give you a few belated comments relating to the life and passing of J. Frederick Michael Jr. They have been prepared with special thanks to Joe Sandberg of Wilmington, Del., and Ben Armfield of Washington, D.C., who Contributed much to these memorial words about their friend.

Fred was killed in an auto accident on April 11, 1985, between Chapel Hill and Durham, N.C. His life certainly reflected much of what was central to our era as young men, and his is to be admired for the special ways in which he responded. Although he enjoyed football games, the Nugget, and duplicate bridge, the focus of Fred's interests increasingly centered on the issues of the day during our turbulent years at Dartmouth. He was an intellectual, idealist, and liberal, and worked on Eugene McCarthy's election campaign. Eventually his preoccupation with these concerns led to his withdrawal from Dartmouth. In those days such a situation inevitably resulted in an invitation from Uncle Sam. Since service in Vietnam and a request to kill just wasn't an option for Fred, he chose to join a branch of the military whose purposes he could support. He studied Eastern European languages at the U.S. Army Language School in Monterey, Calif., for a year and was then stationed in Germany for two years as a translator.

Following his discharge Fred returned to Dartmouth and graduated. His remaining years were spent in the Chapel Hill area, where he worked full time at the University of North Carolina library and had nearly completed his dissertation towards a doctorate in American literature at the time of his fatal accident. Fred's obvious love of language and good writing, his gentleness and thoughtfulness, and his quick mind and sense of humor would have made him a good teacher.

In his last years Fred was involved in folk dancing, wrote movie reviews for a local newspaper, and held parts in community theater. He had a keenly active mind and was always absorbed by some new topic, usually in the arts and literature. Fred lived with a group of friends and was somehow the center of their community, undoubtedly on account of the honesty and kindness of his ways. He is remembered as a low-profile but creative success—the kind of success not counted by the usual measures, but by the fact of making a life which creates happiness both within and about.

Fred's many friends in Chapel Hill and vicinity held two memorial services there, and burial was in his hometown of Fernandina Beach, Fla. Fred's family and friends have lost a special sort of person. The class extends its deepest sympathy to Fred's mother, Lorah Michael, and his sister, Lisa Michael.