It was late summer ’87, I walked into Fred’s little office (which many ahem… used to smoke) to tell him I had to leave because my practical training time on my student F-1 visa was up
Fred asked if I wanted to stay on. I said, of course. I had a such a fun summer (hot as it was) but I really couldn’t unless I changed my visa status.
So Fred asked if I was a member of the Publishing Employees Credit Union. I said no that I was living from paycheck-to-paycheck. He fished out a Ulysses Grant note and told me to go see Carlos Vasconcelos (sp?) at the credit union and bring back paperwork for a personal loan.
I made some calls to see what it would cost to hire an immigration lawyer–$8K. Gulp…
Fred co-signed that loan without hesitation or question. The paperwork for that change of visa status stated (I’m paraphrasing here…) that the paper couldn’t find anyone as qualified. ( We all know photographers are a dime a dozen, even back in those days) Fred signed that paperwork.
Over the years when we would catch up. I’d ask him why he wasn’t worried about me skipping out on that loan. He’d just laugh.
Fred, I’m so thankful and I wouldn’t be here in this country without your help. LOVE YOU. Rest in Peace Fred.
I would have loved to tell this tale at a roast rather than posthumously like this, dear Fred. David Bauman, I’m going to miss him.