Fred Herold Jr.

If you said he was a churchgoer his entire life, you wouldn't be wrong. He was born on March 4, 1920, in Dallas, to Fred and Clara Mae Herold, the same month his mother enrolled him in the Cradle Roll Sunday School Department at Pleasant View Baptist Church.

In those days, Dallas was spread-out, rural and folksy. Fred's neighborhood, now a tangle of paved streets, brick homes and stop signs, was back then wide-open grazing land for cattle. The grassy expanse off Fisher Road and Hialeah Drive belonged to Fred's father, who ran a dairy. Working alone, seven days a week, Fred Sr. fed and milked 24 cows, churned the butter, loaded the truck and delivered bottles of milk and cream to 50 customers. Fred Jr. got up early and pitched in before school but his mother made sure he knew his future was not as a dairyman.

He played childhood games of the 1920s: horseshoes, washers, marbles. He used home remedies: kerosene for cuts, castor oil for stomachaches, carbolic salve for insect bites. He learned to entertain himself and speak when spoken to. Fred found he took more pleasure in "doing for others" than in letting them do for him; this became a theme of his life. "Don't worry about me," he'd say, "but is there anything you need?"

In July of 1933, when he was 13, he became a Christian, and by the next year he was teaching Sunday School. As he graduated from Woodrow Wilson High School in 1937, he reached what he called "one of my turning points." His parents gave him a choice: they'd help him buy a car and he could start working, or, they'd help him go to college. He sought his pastor's advice, took it and went to college.

Arriving at Baylor University in Waco in 1939, he intended to become a pastor. But his education was interrupted by Pearl Harbor and World War II. He joined the U.S. Army Air Corps as a volunteer in 1942 and after washing out as a pilot, found his niche as a navigator on a B-24 Consolidated Liberator bomber named "Lady Luck."

He and his lead crew — 704th Bomb Squadron, 446th Bombardment Group, Eighth U.S. Army Air Force — survived 30 bombing missions over Belgium and Germany. He wrote about their D-Day trip in his diary: "English Channel quite a sight to behold. Grateful to be at 20,000 feet instead of ground level."

Fred never mentioned the Air Medal or Distinguished Flying Cross with four Oak Leaf Clusters he earned before being honorably discharged as a Captain. He would brag, though, that he "left the service one day and re-enrolled at Baylor the next."

Fred's story page 2

The war, of course, changed him. Back in school, he was now a business major and a member of Delta Sigma Pi business fraternity. One day in the fall of 1945, just days after his return from military service, he noticed a girl in Statistics class struggling with the lesson. She just didn't "get" numbers and Fred, a math whiz, offered to help.

The girl, like Fred, had grown up on a Texas dairy and had strong ties to the Baptist church. Fred tutored her in statistics and she passed. They attended a football game, fell in love, and for the rest of his life, Clairene Stevens's upbeat, outgoing personality served as a balance to Fred's solemn, honorable nature.

They were married in Mineral Wells, her hometown, in 1948, and moved to Dallas and East Grand Baptist Church. They joined their Baylor friend Ralph Langley at Wilshire Baptist on October 21, 1956.

Fred became an accountant, settling in for 25 years at Van Waters & Rogers, an industrial chemical firm. He and Clairene welcomed two children, Larry in 1955 and Diane in 1959.

As a family man and a friend, he was measured, dependable and honest. When given an assignment at work or church, or getting roped in to his child's science project, "he would not rest until it was accomplished," Clairene said. He loved teaching Sunday School and Training Union, where his favorite texts were the Lord's Prayer and the 23rd Psalm.

After retirement, his efforts to serve only grew. He tutored at Dan D. Rogers Elementary School, counseled international students at Wilshire, served meals at the Stew Pot soup kitchen, and volunteered with Resource Dallas helping out-of-work accountants sharpen their job-hunting skills. Refusing to take it easy, he took a part-time job doing the books for an insurance firm. All along, he visited the sick, the bereaved, the lonely. In short, he was that much-desired but rarely found "good and faithful servant."

Fred passed away from natural causes on May 21, 2020 at the age of 100. He was preceded in death by his parents and younger brother Earl. He is survived by his wife of 71 years, Clairene; son Larry and his wife Ellen Barry of Chicago, Illinois; daughter Diane and her husband Paul Irwin of Bedford, and granddaughter Julie of Irving.

You're invited to remember Fred whenever you recite one of his favorite verses, Psalm 103:1: "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name."

And if you'd like to make a donation in Fred's honor, you can contribute to the George A. Mason Pathways Endowment at Wilshire Baptist Church, 4316 Abrams Rd, Dallas, 75214, (214) 452-3100.