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Tributes
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Alan Barton
Fred … pains my heart to.loose you My Friend! A great friend is one that even though you don't often get together, you just pick up from the last time as if it was yesterday. It was so nice to visit You n Sandy last summer. This is how I will remember You. Wish we could have made that fly fishing trip to Montana that we often talked about. I will carry You along on All fishing trips and will remember our great friendship. My sad heart weeps with Your Family and Friends. Good memories are left behind, bad ones fade away. You did good my friend. My prayers go out to Sandy for this loss and for a peaceful journey forward. Love you DH! Al
Charles Martin
The first time I met Fred- when I flew out to Connecticut to see Sandy, Fred had his hand-crafted boat with him. This boat was a piece of artwork. I marveled at the workmanship as we exchanged pleasantries. I have always stayed in contact with Sandy from our early years and consistently heard how Fred's unconditional love for her was unmatched and how special he always made her feel. She said she could just be herself without any inhibitions. When Fred proposed to Sandy, he called me as her oldest brother (our father had passed) to ask for my approval. That should tell most people everything you need to know about Fred. I told him to please treat her with respect, love and affection and you have my blessing. He was respectful, kind, affectionate and just the person I hoped my sister would settle in with and marry. Sandy shared with me their milestones, trials and tribulations as well as all the fun they had together. When Sandy started having serious medical challenges, Fred and I grew closer- collaborating about the serious decision making that was thrust into their world. We texted and talked nearly every day through the last critical 2 years. He was my sisters rock, protector, advocate, friend and husband until the end. He was the epitome of unconditional love for my sister. I will miss him on so many levels. He was one of the finest men I have had the pleasure to know. I know you are in Heaven Fred- I hear the fishing is good up there, so rest easy my brother. Chuck Martin
Francesca Foelber
I will always remember Uncle Fred singing/humming as he buzzed around the kitchen. He didn't seem to have an "off" button when it came to making music. I have a clear memory (I must have been only 5 or 6 years old) of one Montello Christmas where we had a "12 days of Christmas" theme. I was on grandma and grandpa's deck helping him strap on our sand box's turtle shell (he was a turtle dove) to his back as he sang Chrismas carols to me. I was freezing, but I didn't want to leave and miss the show. I also remember being in awe of his woodworking- the canoe he built being most memorable for me. I couldn't believe he made it himself. The wood was so glossy and smooth as he had just lacquered it recently. It was beautifuly crafted and he was so proud to show it off. He was my Godfather and gave the warmest hugs. I still have his Navy sweatshirt he gave me somewhere- it was like 8 sizes too big and I was swimming in it but I felt so special that he gave it to me. Fred and Jess, we are so sorry for your loss and praying for peace in your hearts. Love and hugs and prayers.
Jeffrey Burger
I was sorry to learn of Fred's passing about a week ago. I have not spoken to Fred in many years, and really lost touch with him after my having moved from the NY metropolitan area more than 40 years ago. I have recently spoken to some of our mutual friends from our teenage years about Fred's passing and everyone agrees that Fred was a great friend and a wonderful teammate. I want to express my deepest sympathies to Fred's family and friends and I want you all to know that Fred touched the lives of many people and that he will live on in our memories.
Kevin G Burk
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Fred & Jessica Montello
From Jess: I like to think it's because of dad that music became such a huge part of my life. There wasn't a moment when it wasn't blasting, often to the neighbors chagrin, from every corner, and his voice could be heard loud and strong. Some mornings I still wake-up hearing "Rocky Mountain High" as my internal alarm clock -- this was often our Sunday morning "wake-up call" to get ready for 7:30AM mass. I am an early bird now just like he was, although maybe not as early as he liked to get up. Picturing him sitting, drinking his "navy mud" and listening to the birds before the world woke-up is how I'll remember him. I swear sometimes he really could understood what they were chirping about! Also with his apron on, cooking up some recipe he found online, singing for the world to hear. He truly missed his calling as a chef, and carpenter, and singer, and, and...
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