World's Oldest Man, Red Sox Fan Dies at 113

Around the world, Fred Hale Sr. will be eulogized in this way: The oldest man in the world was a Boston Red Sox fan who kept waiting, year after year, to see his team win it all.

This autumn, barely a month short of his 114th birthday, Hale finally got to enjoy that Red Sox title. He died in his sleep Friday at The Nottingham in DeWitt, just 23 days after that World Series triumph, as if it left him free to say farewell.

It makes for one more fitting tale about these already legendary Sox, except that it isn't altogether true.

Yes, Hale cared about the team. But it would be inaccurate to say the Red Sox were his greatest passion. Hale, for instance, did not specifically remember the last Red Sox championship in 1918, a World Series played when he was 27 years old. He came to his loyalty later in his life, and he began to follow the Red Sox for the most familiar of reasons:

His wife, Flora, was a fan. Until her death in 1979, she'd often listen to the games in the living room of their home in Maine. Their five children joined the Red Sox nation due mainly to their mother's loyalty. As the children grew up, Hale noticed the way they all cared about the team, and he ended up going to his share of games at Fenway Park.

During interviews about baseball in recent years, he repeatedly explained that he wanted the Red Sox to become champions for two primary reasons: Fred Sr. wanted them to win it as a kind of memorial to his wife and to his daughter Carolyn, a fervent Red Sox fan who died in 1992, and because he knew how much it would mean to surviving members of his family.

On a more fundamental level, the team was bound to him by reasons of geography. Fred Sr. was raised on a farm in Maine. He lived in that state until a few years ago, when he moved to Onondaga County to be near his son, Fred Jr., a General Electric retiree.

Hale had a pure and beautiful Maine accent, and he always defined himself by his home region. In a 2003 interview, when asked why he wanted the Red Sox to win it all, Hale replied, "They're native, you know? From Massachusetts? New England?"

In other words, they were just one more part of who he was.

Still, the Hale family was touched by all the Red Sox-related attention offered to Fred Sr. He seemed to epitomize the long vigil shared by so many fans, which made him the star of a news conference during the World Series. The old man's name appeared in news reports around the globe. Albert Tapper, a Boston-raised millionaire, had even hoped to fly Fred Sr. to Fenway Park next spring to throw out the first pitch in the season opener.

Despite that recent burst of celebrity, it would diminish Fred Sr. to remember him only as a Red Sox fan. His grandson, Fred Hale III, 51, is serving as family spokesman. When he was born, his grandfather was already retired. What he remembers, with awe, is Fred Sr.'s devotion to routine.

"My grandmother was the one who doted on the grandkids," Fred III said. At home, no matter what, Fred Sr. did his chores. The old man continued to work almost until he moved to greater Syracuse, helping out at a family lobster pound. Even his passions - hunting, beekeeping, fishing - were governed by the seasons and his internal clock.

Fred Sr. bagged his last deer, his grandson recalled, on an autumn day well past his 100th birthday.

In his final years, even from a wheelchair, the world's oldest man paid keen attention to the seasons and the patterns of life. At 109, just before moving away from Maine, Fred Sr. could still look at the New England sky and identify the destinations of many jets by their specific flight patterns.

In an interview about a month ago, a visitor kept asking Fred Sr. about the Red Sox. The old man offered some obligatory answers, confirming that he'd watch a few innings every night. Then he paused and stared out the window, where a strong autumn wind was tossing around the leaves.

Fred Sr. gave up on talking about baseball. He moved on to memories of his father's farm. He remembered helping his dad care for the newborn lambs, how he couldn't stand it when any of those lambs had to be slaughtered, how his father understood when he had to turn away.

Even at 113, the memory seemed difficult for him. Fred Sr. turned to the subject of the leaves.

"That wind," he said. "It sounds like it could take down this whole place."

Previous columns on Fred Hale:
For Sox fan, once in an epic lifetime  (October 9, 2003)
Oldest Red Sox fan not betting on outcome  (October 25, 2004)

© 2004 The Post-Standard. Used with permission.