Fred P White
September 3, 1955 – June 20, 2019
Frederick Perry White (63), of Apopka, FL, passed peacefully in his sleep on June 20, 2019. Fred was born on September 3, 1955 in Marion OH.
He is survived by his loving wife, Sarah White of Apopka, FL, his adored daughter, Brittany Corinne, of Cambridge, OH, and step-sons, Jeremy Boutwell and Corey McIntire.
Fred is proceeded in death by his father, Eugene Stark White, and survived by his mother, Mary Jean White of Orlando, FL. He is also survived by his sister, Carole Myrick (Bruce Myrick) and brother, John Graham White (Cathy White) of St Petersburg, FL. He had 5 nieces and nephews and 12 great-nieces and nephews.
Services will be on Saturday, July 13, 2019 at 1:00 pm at the Baldwin Fairchild Funeral Home (601 North Park Ave Apopka, FL 32712). In lieu of flowers, Fred wanted donations made to St Jude’s Children’s Hospital. (www.stjude.org)
- Memorial Service Saturday, July 13, 2019
Fred P White
July 13, 2019
Fred and Sarah was an amazing couple. Fred had given me a book of sorts that he had written, I think...about Math and he thought it would help my grandsons.. Derrick was having such a problem, so what could it hurt? Derrick is in his second year of college 😄 on a scholarship. I have to believe that Fred had a hand in this. Please Lord, watch over Sarah and their family.
July 13, 2019
So sorry the memory was too long and ended up being posted backwards...so you have to start at the end and read to the beginning...suits Fred, Please know that I will be laughing and crying with you all today.
July 12, 2019
Laughter, aggravation, music, more laughter, more aggravation, more music, and many deep and serious discussions. Our good friend Fred always had a smile and a twinkle in his piercing eyes. Always a bright spot in everyone's day, so many memories! You will be missed, our friend, no more suffering for you.
Connie & Dale
July 12, 2019
We finally did make it to the Pacific Ocean and then turned around headed back east.
At Calexico, California along the Mexican border we stopped at an abandoned filling station for the night. We started a small fire to grill some hot dogs and Fred broke out the guitar. Before long several people from the trailer park across the road trudged over carrying lawn chairs. Today they are Hispanic Americans but back then they were Mexicans.
Soon there were about twenty people sitting around drinking beer, swapping stories and listening to Fred sing. The owner of the filling station showed up. He was not happy to see a beer drinking party trespassing on his property. He demanded that we leave or pay him rent for the night. The group passed the hat and we paid the owner five dollars and had enough left over for gas the next day. The only stipulation was that we had to leave by 8:00 AM and not pee on his property. We did leave in the morning but I must confess that we indeed pee several times during the night.
I can close my eyes and still feel the hot Alabama wind whipping through the window and hear Fred sitting in the passenger seat strumming that old guitar. He was always the joker, sometimes the ace of spades and sometimes the queen of hearts. Good bye you traveler of dusty roads, so long you singer of songs, fair thee well my friend.
July 12, 2019
Another mile or so and the drive ended at a run- down group of buildings huddled under several sparse shade trees. There under one of the sparse trees sat Fred on a lawn chair drinking a beer.
And under another sparse tree set the prodigal VW bus. There were two boots sticking out the back and I could hear muttering. The boots emerged and they belonged to who is now an African American but back then was a black man. Fred introduced him as Mr. White but I’m not sure if that was actually his name. He was originally from Kentucky so Fred had already deduced that they were probably related. Mr. White had an incredible collection of old belts from combines, tractors, trucks and other implements hanging in an old shed and he was convinced he could find one the right size. He definitely didn’t like German vehicles (thus the muttering) but he seemed to take a liking to Fred and before long he had the old girl back up and running.
Mrs. White called us into dinner about that time and this was the first time we actually had a meal since the bus broke down. She asked where we were headed? “California”, Fred replied. She asked why we were headed to California ? And Fred replied “ To find gold”. Mr. White shook his head like black folks do when white folks don’t make any sense. Their children were silent but wide-eyed watching Fred forking great mouthfuls of potato salad and devouring roasting ears two at a time.
When ever we hit a town, Fred would work the bars trying to find work. He was the front guy and definitely the out-going one. We seldom found any work but usually could score a meal and a place to stay the night. I was just the driver and the mechanic. They made a movie of this trip years later but changed the title to “Driving Miss Daisey” at the last minute. Morgan Freeman plays me and Jessica Tandy plays Fred. They did a pretty good job but Fred thought the dialog was a little weak.
We finally did make it to the Pacific Ocean and then turned around headed back east
July 12, 2019
So, our plan was to drive until the battery went dead (thirty miles). Then I would take the battery out and drape the jumper cables around my neck and walk to the next farm to charge the battery. And then walk back to the bus (hopefully getting a ride somewhere along the line). Fred would stay and watch the bus (there again, everyone here knows Fred, right?).
The first day we did this twice and made about 65 mile which took a total of ten hours.
I need to make a footnote here…Fred was a practical joker or in his case an unpractical joker. Again, I realize I am preaching to the choir here. The thing he enjoyed most was hiding and then jumping out and scaring the shit out of you. I can see several people shaking the heads in agreement. Well, one might think that it would be difficult to hide in a 1969 VW micro bus, and it was, but Fred was up to the challenge. At least twice a day he would pull this off and at least twice a day he would scare the shit out of me. This was back when everyone was talking about the rapture so I always assumed that Jesus had taken Fred and left me behind and about that time Fred would jump out of a cramped space and scream “gottcha!”.
So day number two I headed out with the battery to get a charge. I found a willing farmer and he even gave me a ride to the bus. When we arrived back there was no Fred. I again figured that maybe Fred was taken up into the heavens but noticed that not only was Fred missing but so was the 1969 VW micro bus. I could see Jesus taking Fred but a 1969 VW micro bus?
It was then I noticed the paper plate nailed to a fence post with an arrow on it pointing west. I probably need to make another footnote here for the younger folks out there…this was before cell phones, internet, facebook. If you were not actually standing there talking to someone then communication was non-existent. So, we headed west for several miles and came onto another paper plate with an arrow pointing right at a dusty drive.
July 12, 2019
To say Fred was a bit of a wild card is like saying the Pope is a bit of a Catholic! But I’m not telling you something you don’t already know.
It was about 1971 or so and I had just bought a 1969 VW micro-bus and was on a break from college ( ie, I had just flunked out) . Fred thought this would be a good time to drive it across the country and so we headed out to drive US Route 50 to California and hopefully back. US Route 50 was a two lane road and this suited us fine since we were in no hurry which was a good thing since the bus would do like 50 mph on a good day going downhill.
We figured the trip would take about three weeks… or three months depending on how often the bus broke down. It turned out we were closer to the latter. We had about $300 (which was a lot of money back then) and a plan to earn some on the way. As you know Fred was a good guitar player and singer and he would earn money playing in bars and clubs on the way to finance the trip. I am wondering where were our parents in all of this ? Did they not have ANY advice to give on how ridiculous this was ? Did they not care ?
Anyway, we set off.
I have twenty-eight stories to tell but in the interest of time I will limit myself to just two.
We made it to Kansas before the bus broke down. We had already ran out of money. As it turned out bars and clubs were not interested in hiring a pretty good guitar player and singer (who knew?). The generator belt broke in that long and desolate stretch from western Kansas to eastern Colorado. The ranches were about five miles apart. We found that if we could charge the battery, we could drive nearly thirty minutes before we ran out of power. The nearest town was two hundred miles away (you do the math).
July 12, 2019
Fred was a unique, witty, intelligent, loving cousin and friend. We cherish our memories of him. Love to family and friends. Don and Lannette Davis
June 28, 2019
Up on the roof....good memories Fred. Fly high friend...fly high ❤
June 24, 2019
Marion Harding Class of 1973 original. We all knew Fred. His music and political comments will be missed.
Sympathy to his family and many friends in Florida
June 23, 2019
One of my long time friends ,He was one of a kind,wanting to make a difference ,he did to many.Writer,teacher loved by many. We will have to make the bean soup ,Farewell Rip