Butch in Cincinnati, sunbathing in the backyard, Wyatt Avenue.  Bill (Ribarsky, cousin) took this picture.

Bill (Ribarsky, cousin) took this photo at the Air Force Museum in Dayton, Ohio.  Butch is in front, and Bonnie is behind.

My memories of Butch must always include Bonnie, Bill (my brother), and our families.  Every summer in our youths, we stayed at one another's homes for 1 or more weeks.  At the apartment on Ashland in Detroit, Bonnie and I slept on her twin bed, and Butch and Bill slept on Butch's twin bed.  We would run through the neighborhood, even crossing 4-lane highways.  

Once, I asked to take Pal, their long-legged collie, on a walk.  A little dog barked at him through the dog's screen door, and Pal yanked free of my hold, charged that little dog, and pulled it through its own screen.  Oddly, I cherish even that memory.

The 4 of us children had a kind of freedom that children don't have today.  We were baby boomers, so lots of other children ran through the neighborhoods.  Sometimes, the 4 of us would walk up to the nearby pharmacy, sit at the soda fountain, and drink 5-cent colas.

Butch was very protective of Bonnie.  On more than one occasion, when Bonnie and I got into a silly argument,  Butch would nail me to the floor and sit on me until I yielded the argument to Bonnie.  I always wished that my brother would defend me in the way that Butch defended Bonnie.  Instead, Bill would stand back and laugh.  That was Bill's nature, though.  He was easy-going and casual where Butch was intense.

Bicycles were essential parts of our experiences, especially at my home on Wyatt Avenue in Cincinnati.  I had an old, old red-and-white bicycle with lots of metal on fenders and elsewhere.  Bill had a new 3-speed bike.  Butch streamlined my bike by sawing off all unnecessary metal in fenders and elsewhere.  He then reversed the handle-bars, and, with my lightened bike, he raced after Bill. I see in my mind's eye exactly where in the backyard Butch worked on my bike.  

Then, I remember a magical night in Detroit when Butch bicycled while I sat on the handlebars.  We rode in the dark for what seemed like hours, and I can still feel the breeze on that summer night.

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Fred is survived by many other loving family members.

Fred is predeceased by parents Fred and Evelyn.

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Fred Erbert

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Fred Herman Erbert Jr.

28 enero, 1944 – 13 enero, 2019

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Fred Herman Erbert Jr.

28 enero, 1944 – 13 enero, 2019

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