Frederick Forbes Angus (1935 - 2007)
Every
human being is special but Frederick Angus brought a whole new meaning
to the word 'special person'. To know Fred took time; he didn't make
the best 'first impression', never a debonair dresser, yet you were
immediately attracted by something magical, his vast knowledge,
retentive memory, and unassuming demeanor.
Over
time, in fact a short time, you grew ever fonder of Fred and ever more
appreciative of his intellect and unassuming manner. Fred's intellect
and memory were as good as it gets; he used this God given talent to
develop a passionate interest down to the minutest detail in several
areas mostly historic, or Victorian including: Music, especially
Gilbert and Sullivan; the American Civil War; historic typewriters;
books; license plates; nineteenth century cameras; gramophones; World
War I; and all things railway and especially tramway related. He could
rattle 'off the cuff' dates, information and history like no one else
and all well founded and without error.
Fred
was a man of faith, he was at ease in any church of any denomination or
synagogue, he would tag along with his friends and simply attend the
church that they did. He came by this ecumenism honestly, his father
was a Presbyterian, his mother an Anglican yet they exchanged Christmas
cards with Pope John XXIII! He supported St. George's Anglican, where
his mother attended, yet home was St. Andrew and St. Paul where he kept
up the long tradition of providing the Angus flower arrangement on the
altar at Christmas. He has requested of his successors that this memorial
tradition be continued with his name added to that of Donald and Mary.
He
was also a man of many physical talents including model building of
trains, streetcars and ships, book binding and repairing, and
restoration of old things in general. There was nothing that Fred
couldn't fix, if he didn't know how, he read up then fixed it.
Fred
was born in 1935 and he lived through the era when the railways and
tramway systems underwent profound change, steam to diesel, tram to
bus. Fred's railway interests were tweaked by the old Montreal rush
hour trams that took him to school in the late 1940s. On a trip to St.
John NB, circa 1949, he discovered a string of scrapped trams: the
family purchased car 82, Fred was hooked! The number 82 was to be
retained throughout his life as his 'lucky number'.
Fred
joined the Canadian Railroad Historical Association in 1950 following
in his father's foot steps and served in various capacities until his
death. Of particular note was his editorship of Canadian rail for 26
years. His devotion and generosity to the railway preservation cause
was unwavering. When a crisis arose, Fred or his family could be called
on to help with sober council and financial help if necessary. The new
Exporail pavilion will be christened shortly the Angus Pavilion in his
and the family's honour.
Fred
was a devoted son, he took an early retirement from the CPR to attend
to his aging mother and saw her through to the end: she died at the age
of 94. All the while he made friends, numerous friends in several
countries around the world, most of whom shared his passion for railway
history. We have friends of his here in attendance today from Texas,
South Carolina, Ontario and Quebec. His friends stood firm beside him
till the end, even to the point of taking him to visit the Knowlton
Museum 13 days before his death. Fred returned the favour with his
sincere friendship, always one to keep contact, he spent hours on the
phone having dialed all the required numbers (including internationals
from his hospital phone) from memory, he kept but didn't use an address
book.
Fred fought the great
fight, when he was diagnosed with terminal cancer, he immediately
decided to live life to the fullest, "every day really counts now" he
said! His caregivers including all the staff at the Jewish General
Hospital, the CLSC and others came to care for Fred beyond the call of
duty. Even some other chemo recipients on the Thursday schedule kept in
contact with him by E mail.
When
the end came, the doctors put him on morphine, but only for a single
day. Fred asked to be taken off, "it's affecting my brain" he said. He
protected his greatest asset to the end.
Fred, our phone isn't ringing, we miss you!
Peter Murphy, friend
August 21, 2007