Fred Brown, Sr.

I first met Fred Brown seventeen years ago at my second-ever road race - a hilly 6.5-miler in Ashby, Massachusetts on September 13, 1975. Fred was 68 years old at the time and had been competing as a runner and a racewalker for 39 years. At that time, he had finished over 1800 races. When Fred was forced to stop competing five years ago due to cardiovascular related angina, he had completed over 2000 races. In one particular year, he finished more than 160. Had not Fred become involved in the organization of road races, the total might have reached 4000.

It wasn't until the mid-1970's that the practice of awarding medals, either to all finishers or to the first three in various divisions, began to come to an end. Fred saved every medal he had ever won and mounted them in cases on the walls of his home. Without resorting to any references, he could point to any of the more than 1400 medals dating back to the 1930's and describe in detail the race it represented.

Fred was not in Ashby as a competitor, but rather in his capacity as president of the North Medford Club. At the time, the North Medford Club was the dominant running club in New England. It was the region's largest and it organized more races than any other area club. The NMC claimed many of the most talented runners in Massachusetts and New Hampshire.

Over the years, it was Fred who single-handedly built the North Medford Club to its pre-eminent position. He put in countless hours in planning and traveling to races. These ranged in scope from national championships to racewalks held in the dark on wintry Wednesday nights in a Lowell industrial park which attracted no more than a half-dozen walkers. The number of telephone calls and letters related to running to which he responded over the years must have numbered in the hundreds of thousands.

By the late 1970's, clubs such as the Boston Athletic Association, the Central Mass Striders and the Greater Boston Track Club challenged NMC's position and, ultimately, surpassed it in terms of size and competitiveness. However, Fred never let this affect his tireless efforts on behalf of his beloved club. Until his death, he remained the president of the North Medford Club.

In addition to the 2000-plus races in which he competed, Fred was involved, often virtually alone, in the organization of well over 4000 races. These included the weekly Saturday morning 2.5 and 5.0 milers run around Fresh Pond in Cambridge, the NMC organized races held throughout Massachusetts and New Hampshire, the fabled Plymouth Rock to Provincetown Relay (1974-1988) and its replacement, the Lake Winnipesaukee Relay.

Fred oversaw every facet of the race organization of those relays, from the constant battles with local police and town officials to the stuffing and mailing of envelopes which included team numbers, packets of safety pins and Fred's infamous maps.

Seemingly every one of the Plymouth Rock to Provincetown Relays involved multiple controversies which swirled around Fred. I vividly remember the 1980 edition, when during leg two, unbeknownst to me, Fred had inadvertently sent the CMS runner, who was leading the race, in the wrong direction. Trailing the runner in a support vehicle, I had the suspicion that something was wrong. As a result, I sped ahead to see if I could find the exchange point. Some distance down the road, I found Fred and three fellow septuagenarians standing at the side of the road. Assuming they were manning the exchange point, the panic momentarily passed. As I pulled up to them, Fred yelled, "Say, Don, do you know where the exchange is?"

For the past 40 to 50 years, Fred unquestionably devoted an average of six to eight hours per day to his running/racewalking, race organization and the North Medford Club. During his later years, when his health began to erode, it was this devotion to purpose that helped keep him alive.

Unlike some runners, who know of no world beyond that of running, Fred was a true renaissance man. He was an amateur radio operator of some 50 years standing, an amateur astronomer, a stamp collector and a self-made cosmologist/philosopher. While a teenage caddy, he would often "earn" extra money by beating course regulars using only a two-iron and a putter.

With the advent of the Massachusetts "Bottle Bill," he would begin on January 1st walking around Spot Pond in Medford collecting discarded bottles and cans until he had $200 worth. He would donate that money to a local animal shelter.

At any given time, he had anywhere between twelve and thirty cats, all strays, in his home. When his dog, Kelly, died four years ago, he went to the pound and selected the one dog he was certain no one else would pick. He aptly named it "Tripod."

The name "Kelly Brown" frequently appeared in newspaper results the day following the Saturday morning Fresh Pond races. To those familiar with the Fresh Pond races, it was a clear indication that fewer than three women finished the race, as it was the policy of the paper to require that a minimum of three were to have finished in order to justify the printing of the results. (Note: Check the Boston Sunday Globe. Disciples of Fred still maintain that tradition.)

Ten weeks ago, Fred suffered a heart attack, When he regained consciousness, he looked up at the attending physician and said, "Gee, Doc, I'm sorry, I must have dozed off." He was released several days later only to suffer a second heart attack while being driven home. It was this which brought an incredible life to an end.

Fred's wake told more about the man than any words possibly can. He was dressed in his treasured orange and black North Medford Club uniform. Of the hundreds who attended, few shed a tear. They were too busy remembering and telling countless Fred Brown, Sr. stories. Fred, all who knew you, miss you. - - DD