Mr. Iquied Thomas Frazier

REMEMBERING IKE/AC

Iquied Thomas Frazier was born on April 2, 1937 in Oklahoma to Aaron Frazier and Delphia Brooks-Frazier. He later moved to Oakland, CA with his sister, Rosie Chiles.

Ike attended school in Oakland and graduated from Oakland Technical High School.

Ike started his career at General Motors in June of 1965. He started in Fremont, CA and later retired from Akron, Ohio.

He met the love of his life, Audrey Pearl in 1973. He gained six beautiful stepchildren: Jeffrey Brewer, Mitchell Brewer Sr., Chandra Thomas, Michael Brewer Sr., Vivian Brewer and Andre (Jaws) Brewer, Sr. They were married in Kansas City on January 5, 1995. They were together for years 49 years and married for 32 years.

For pleasure, Ike loved watching westerns, antique cars and his camcorder. If anyone went to visit him, you would endure hours of westerns and be subjected to being on video camera, which you would later have to watch when you came back to visit.

He is preceded in death by his loving wife; Audrey Frazier, mother; Delphia Brooks-Frazier and father; Aaron Frazier.

He leaves to cherish his memory, his loving children; Jeffrey (Roberta), Mitchell (Mary), Chandra, Michael (Sarah), Vivian, Andre, Larry (Ingrid) and his bonus son, Damien. His sister Abbie, a host of grandchildren, great grandchildren and a great great-grandchild, nieces, nephews, cousins and many other family and friends.

When Great Trees Fall



by Maya Angelou

When great trees fall,


rocks on distant hills shudder,


lions hunker down


in tall grasses,


and even elephants


lumber after safety.



When great trees fall


in forests,


small things recoil into silence,


their senses


eroded beyond fear.



When great souls die,


the air around us becomes


light, rare, sterile.


We breathe, briefly.

Our eyes, briefly,


see with


a hurtful clarity.


Our memory, suddenly sharpened,


examines,


gnaws on kind words


unsaid,


promised walks


never taken.


Great souls die and


our reality, bound to


them, takes leave of us.


Our souls,


dependent upon their


nurture,


now shrink, wizened.


Our minds, formed


and informed by their


radiance,
fall away.


We are not so much maddened


as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of

dark, cold


caves.



And when great souls die,


after a period peace blooms,


slowly and always


irregularly. Spaces fill


with a kind of


soothing electric vibration.


Our senses, restored, never


to be the same, whisper to us.


They existed. They existed.


We can be. Be and be


better. For they existed.

― Maya Angelou