I first met Doc Freud at WOS in 2014, my first trip to the Salt. He came wandering into the impound area as we worked to prepare the Milwaukee Midget for the next morning's backup run. And it was apparent he knew Chris and most of the others already. It was evident that he was rooting for Chris to set a new record, in an obscure, low powered, stock bodied class. And, frankly, I was surprised he took any notice at all. That's the way of it in most other forms of racing. Your direct competitors take notice of you, but by and large, your only friend is: obscurity.
Of course, that was before I got to know Glenn.
He was truly interested in all things that were being achieved, whether those achievements were at the "pointy end", or whether they were from a group of "midwestern misfits" campaigning an orphan chassis powered by a "tractor engine" designed in the 1930's . . . . .
I found him to be a caring, kind and sentient human being, one who appreciated the best qualities of others and always promoted the positive. We stayed in contact via the forum, and I appreciated his humor, wit, insight, and advice. I considered Freud a "replacement" dad for my own departed father.
I'm visiting my son in Tacoma at Thanksgiving, and I had hoped to trek north for a visit with the Doc if that would be possible. I guess that's not going to happen now . . . . .
Requiescat in pace Pater. Atque in perpetuum, Pater, ave atque vale. Although you are gone, be assured you will not be forgotten . . . . .
May the next part of your journey be smooth, and downhill, with the wind at your back . . . . .