Sadly the marriage didn’t last, but the stoutly built bungalow remains perched on a sandy hill to this day. During this time Fred taught English and Sex Education at Beaufort High School and having made his contribution to the burgeoning minds of Beaufort youth, left early to make a pilgrimage to the tomb shrine of Avatar Meher Baba in Ahmednagar, India.Ī job offer in North Myrtle Beach drew Fred to Windy Hill, South Carolina, where he built a home with his own two hands.
After graduation the couple resided for a year on North Street in Beaufort. His newly acquired brawn snagged him a wife, Jean Lindesay Wessell of Wilmington, North Carolina, and the newlyweds repaired to Chapel Hill, North Carolina, where Fred graduated from the University of North Carolina with a degree in English. Upon graduation in 1963, Fred worked for a year alongside his father on the family farm at Kane Island, learning the secrets of successful farming and developing a physique like Arnold Schwarzenegger. He moved on to Beaufort High School where he established himself as a bon vivant and a ladies’ man. He left the comforts of home to attend Episcopal High School in Alexandria, Virginia, where he played quarterback on the cake football team and had many adventures circumventing the constraints of an all-boy prep school. Helena’s Episcopal Church, and riding his bike on the sandy backroads of the old town. He enjoyed Little League baseball, being an acolyte at St. He spent his youth divided between the freedom of small town living and the joy of summers at Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina, with his extended family of aunts and uncles and rambunctious cousins. and brought home to an idyllic childhood on Bay Street overlooking the Beaufort River. He was born in Wilmington, North Carolina, to Flora Graham Trask and John Maurice Trask, Sr. Trask shuffled off this mortal coil on December 15, 2021, at his home in Beaufort, South Carolina. She is one of the good ones.ĭenise, you will ever be in my thoughts and prayers, and please forgive me for crying over losing you.Fred G. Tommy, you and the boys take care of and watch over Denise, like you did for me. For I will be along soon enough, but not just yet - for I still have things to do here. When you get to that big O-club in the sky, look for my boys and tell them I miss them too. My dearest friend Denise, I will always miss you and will think of you often. I will miss reading her new works, and even more, I will miss our discussions on them. Her writing was not only entertaining, but always intellectually stimulating.
Her presence in my life was a quiet, gentle reassurance that someone cared and understood what I had gone through in my past - and that there was a path that I could safely travel into my future.
She taught me that no matter what shape or color we are, that no matter how we are raised, no matter who we are, that we all have something to offer in this world. Her ever present helpful attitude and encouragement were instrumental in my finding not only myself, but in finding it within myself to forgive to forgive myself for my failings, to forgive myself for not being a better person, and to forgive myself for not saving those who I had promised to bring home. She always kept me on an even keel, and pushed me to look ever forward - she helped me to learn that although our past shapes who we are, that we are not locked into being one thing.
In addition to being a wonderful author, she helped me through some very tough times.
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