When someone leaves this old world, it’s always uplifting to realize his was a life well lived, and I can think of no one who had a more fulfilling life than Fred Barber.
Fred was an accomplished, multifaceted person who found a way to excel and enjoy the benefits of his profession while still finding time to support his beloved community, state, and university. And he did so with an underscoring of faith, hope, and charity. Fred was a good neighbor. He would help get your ox out of the ditch.
When Fred arrived in Athens in 1961, he had a reputation as a special athlete who loved the outdoors. He also gave the classroom the same regard he gave the locker room, where he was highly respected.
Early on, Fred learned if you fancied dishing it out, you better be prepared to take it, too, something too many young men never learn. Fred aspired to lead and overachieve in life but also was blessed with a stroke of altruism. He served on boards – both pharmaceutical and local – and aspired to see his community grow and prosper.
Fred never met a bird dog he didn’t like. He swooned to the explosion of a Bob White quail on a covey rise and the coo of a mourning dove on an early morning shoot. He supported wildlife gatherings and causes and was confident he would see Lard and Tom Cotton, his favorite bird dogs, in his next life.
There is a place near Camilla, Covey Rise, where Fred and many of his friends were invited annually to hunt quail. This lodge on the banks of the Flynt River – the best in plantation-style living – was an experience that brought ultimate satisfaction to Fred when its hosts, Robin and Brian Singletary, invited him and his sons, Fred Jr. and Downing, among others, for three days of communing with nature.
You have all those classic hunting opportunities with quail that fly with alacrity on a crisp winter morning as you listen to the whistle of a Bob White, mesmerized by the most rewarding outdoor scene imaginable.
Bird dogs, frisky and rambunctious, are a joy to watch as they bound about through brush and bramble. Then suddenly, they wheel about as they grasp the scent of a wild bird with their keen noses and freeze in a pose that any wing shooter reverently respects.
When the day is over, hunters gather by the Flynt, speaking in deep reverence of the experiences they enjoyed as their hosts shuck oysters for them. And if there is no place like that where Fred is now, he likely will be organizing one in short order.
I got to know Fred when he arrived on campus in Athens as a freshman with a widespread reputation for running the football, collecting yards, and scoring first downs and touchdowns with the greatest of ease.
I was there when he was central to the fullhouse backfield offense of Vince Dooley’s first team, a serendipitous gang that could have won every game on the schedule with a few breaks.
Even so, they finished with a 7-3-1 record and brought such warmth and harmony to the community and the state that there was a great outpouring of love and affection for these upstart ‘Dogs – as “Dawgs,” was not yet entrenched in the UGA lexicon.
Time causes memories to fade, and new faces and fresh victories in the vault bring about chapel bell ringing episodes that often replace our most memorable games.
I have to say that in the last 75 years I have not seen many teams that stirred and warmed the hearts of the alumni more than that first Dooley team, of which Fred Barber contributed significantly to its success.
This man was a “Damn Good Dawg” for many reasons, and I am already thinking about the hurt I’ll experience on the rest of fall’s Saturdays, and on the banks of the Flynt River come February.