Dear friends of Marcel, 

The following obituary was written for the St. John’s College Newspaper by Kee Zublin, Marcel’s friend and classmate: Thank you, Kee and all of you who have been able to express so beautifully what we are all still trying to figure out:

     There’s a story by Gabriel Garcia Marquez entitled “ The Handsomest Drowned Sailor in the World” that I never understood till the morning I read Veronica Fremont’s account of her son Marcel’s burial.

Marcel David Fremont (SF01) died on June 25, 2008 when his motorcycle collided with a truck in northern Montana. He was traveling around the country to visit family and friends before he was to begin his doctoral studies in neuroscience at Washington University, St. Louis.

At Marcel’s burial, Veronica describes how the mourners gathered around the hole to toss in a few mementos: a $2 bill, a sprouting potato. Then, as the attendants began to lower the pine box, one whispered “It doesn’t fit.” Attendants and foreman cranked the coffin back to the surface, and friends and family began stripping off pieces. The bereaved removed poles, bolts and blocks as they tried three times to consign Marcel’s mortal remains to the earth.

One of those present commented “He wasn’t ready to go.” Marcel’s father, Rick Fremont, countered that Marcel was a “connoisseur of awkward situations” and that he knew his friends and family “weren’t ready to let him go.”

Although I was not in that group, as I read Veronica’s account I could picture why Marcel’s coffin wouldn’t fit: He was simply too big for any hole in the ground. Everything about Marcel was too big to go easily into the ground: his shoulders were too broad, his legs too long, his oversized heart and brain too expansive.

And suddenly, I understood Marquez’s story: A drowned man washes to the shore of a tiny island village. The man is large, so large that the children who find him at first think he’s a ship or a whale. When they lay him in one of the village homes, there is barely enough room on the floor. Even when they merely look at the man, there is “no room for him in their imagination.”

The villagers grow to love the man, whom they name Esteban, and so they hold “the most splendid funeral they could conceive of for an abandoned drowned man.” And, as they carry him to the sea, they become “aware for the first time of the desolation of their streets, the dryness of their courtyards, the narrowness of their dreams as they face the splendor and beauty of their drowned man.” 

They let him go without an anchor so that he could come back if he wished, and they all held their breath for the fraction of centuries the body took to fall into the abyss. They did not need to look at one another to realize that they were no longer all present, that they never would be. But they also knew that everything would be different from then on, that their houses would have wider doors, higher ceilings, and stronger floors so that Esteban’s memory could go everywhere without bumping into beams…and they were going to break their backs digging for springs among stones and planting flowers on the cliffs so that in future years at dawn the passengers on great liners would awaken, suffocated by the smell of gardens on the high seas, and the captain would have to come down from the bridge in his dress uniform…and, pointing to the promontory of roses on the horizon, he would say in fourteen languages, look there, where the wind is so peaceful now that it’s gone to sleep beneath the beds, over there, where the sun’s so bright that the sunflowers don’t know which way to turn, yes, over there, that’ s Esteban’s village.

My friend Marcel’s life was too brief. But in 29 years, he knew and loved many people, and it is indeed true that where he has been we look around and realize that we are no longer all present and never will be. It is also true that we can fill the big empty space he left behind with something beautiful.

To make room for Marcel’s memory, we can build wider doors and higher ceilings, live less confined lives, think bigger thoughts. And we can honor our friend by emulating his insatiable curiosity, searching in unlikely places for water to bring forth flowers. Marcel could always see the hidden potential of little things.

He was big that way.  

**********************

In Marcel’s memory, Veronica and Rick, and brother Nathan, have established “The Marcel Fremont Fund.” The fund, administered by the Oak Park, River Forest Community Foundation, will donate small amounts of money for causes related to education, arts, sciences, recreation, and the environment. Those interested in contributing can visit www.oprf.org.  A donation can be made on-line by filling the “in honor of” line with the words “the Marcel Fremont Fund.”   

Dear Friends of  Marcel,

Bit by bit,  all the many, many little things that Marcel shared with others are now re-assembling in our home. It’s as if we are all trying to put together the pieces into the gentle man that we can still smell, feel and embrace - tender letters of love and friendship, paintings, photos of  extreme athleticism, tales of adventure and chivalry, shared poems, shared tears. The parts of him that he can no longer voice, I now hear from all of you.  What treasures!

In life, Marcel dug in the dirt with his bare hands, he climbed, he soared, he risked love and friendship, and did it well and hard!  And if he made a mess or cut his feet, or broke his bones or scarred his heart -  then that was all part of  it.  For he never shortchanged himself - or any of us.  In that light, I want to tell Marcel’s last best story.

    After the funeral, many of us assembled around the hole in the ground that was to hold his body.  Prayers had been said and the hardest moment was upon us, seeing our son, contained in a pine box, lowered into the ground.  Rick surprisingly announced the next ritual to the somber crowd – the  ceremonial “keying” of the coffin!  So, proffering me a pen,  he encouraged me to scratch my best imitation Marcel “blockhead” into the  coffin’s polished finish. (The blockheads had been a family joke since Marcel, as a toddler, scratched what we think was his very first blockhead drawing into the door of our brand new mini-van.) Rick then invited more graffiti and asked if anyone wanted to place items of value into the grave.  Well, who knew that a rubber frog or a sprouting potato or a $2.00 bill could be so valuable as to be chosen to accompany our son on his journey?  We did.  Or how much love was infused into the action figure, the arm patch, the hat, the books and the other odd assortment of offerings?  As a last item, one of Marcel’s friends held up a bottle of Bulleit Bourbon with a questioning look in his eyes?   I welcomed the bottle, even though I have never had whiskey in my life,  took a deep drink and passed it around for the others to share before resting the almost empty bottle atop the casket..  Thus fortified, we again braced for the next moment. The grave attendants then lowered the  casket into the ground.

As we watched,  we heard the first grave attendant whisper “It doesn’t fit”.  A second attendant and the foreman looked into the hole, made an assessment, and then slowly started to crank the coffin back to the surface.  Once up, a quick discussion brought them to the conclusion  that the side poles had to be removed.  We stared, unbelieving, as Marcel’s father, uncles and friends debated how best do so. Crowbars, hammers and  2’ x 4s’ were helpfully retrieved from mourners’ cars and the poles were thus pried from their place.  Seeing the outcome of their work, I gladly grabbed the first pole – now a staff -  as a gift of physical support from my son.  Chivalrous as always, he knew how much I needed something to hold me up.  My 88 year old mother, his grandmother, in her wheelchair, grabbed hold of the other one.  I immediately grasped the meaning of Regina (the queen) that represented all the strength and power she had infused into her children and grandchildren.

So, with bourban in my belly and a staff to support me, we watched as again the casket was lowered.  Apparently, removing the poles was not enough – something else had to be sacrificed.  This time it was the bolts that held the poles.  A multi-tool was produced from a mourner’s purse, and most of us started to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

It took a third try and the loud hammered removal of 4 wood blocks to successfully and finally accomplish the task for which we were all assembled.  Needless to say, it was pretty hard to stay somber and reverent at that point.  People laughed and joked through their tears. Someone said “He wasn’t ready to go”, But Rick countered with the best explanation:  He said “No!, Marcel was a connoisseur of awkward situations. He knew that WE were not ready for him to go.”  Thus, Marcel,  in death, as in life, diffused an awkward situation, gave us something to laugh about and left us with his last best story.

                                                                            +++

It has now been over 30  days since the death of our son, Marcel.  As we pass through minutes, hours, days and nights, we pray that grace will shield us from the pain that is hacking at our hearts.  Our bodies have become strangers to us as we feel things we don’t recognize as our own.  Everything we thought we knew must be learned again in a different language, in a different landscape. We still wait for that sweet - voiced baritone “hello”,  or the arrival of little notes with funny drawings or little gifts left on the porch.  The guitars sit unplayed, he no longer strains the joints of the kitchen chair while telling us stories of friends, travels, philosophy, science, love, risk….

But, we all have the Marcel that resides in our hearts and memories.  That is where he was and where he is.  His influence and effect on people still grows.  Thank you all for your beautiful letters, poems, photos, videos, music, paintings, drawings, food, plants,  e-mails and phone calls. Forgive me for not responding yet. I will in time.  Please know that Rick, Nathan and myself really feel and take much comfort in all your expressions of love.    I look at something on the website every day. I still look forward to new postings.  Rick is just beginning to do so.  I have just downloaded the photographs from the camera that Marcel had on his trip and will post some of these soon. 

If you would like to contact me personally you can e-mail me at marcelsmom at comcast dot net.

With love, affection and much gratitude for all of you,   Veronica Fremont

Read at Fitzgerald’s July 1, 2008

Lindsie Bear gave this to me the day of Marcel’s funeral. She explained to me that she had come home and Marcel told her that he had had an epiphany. He presented her with this document that he had written on a paper towel (of course!). He was 21 years old.

Instructions for Life

1. Take into account that great love and great achievement involve great risk.
2. When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.
3. Follow the three “R”s: Respect for self, Respect for others, Responsibility for all your actions.
4. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful lesson.
5. Don’t let a little dispute spoil a great friendship.
6. When you realize you have made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
7. Spend some time alone every day.
8. Open your arms to change, but don’t let go of your values.
9. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
10. Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll be able to enjoy it a second time.
11. A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life.
12. In disagreements with loved ones, deal only with the current situation. Don’t bring up the past.
13. Share your knowledge. It’s a way to achieve immortality.
14. Be gentle with the earth.
15. Once a year, go someplace you’ve never been before.
16. Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other.
17. Judge your success by what you had to give in order to get it.
18. Approach love and cooking with reckless abandon (freely give).

Marcel David Fremont, 29, of Oak Park, IL and St. Louis, MO. Son of Frede(rick) and Veronica Fremont (Kuehn). Brother to Nathaniel Fremont. Grandson of Regina Kuehn and the late Heinz Kuehn, Henry Fremont and June Fremont. Nephew of Angelika, Birgitta, Brian, Clement, Elisabeth, Christopher, Lynn, Gloria, Bill, Sue, John, Bruce, Katie, Nancy, Jim, Penny, Albert, David and Kyunghee. Cousin to Jenny, Erica, Aaron, Orchid, Sophia, Johanna, Sarah, Steve, Kate, Caroline, Charlie, Lisa, David, Kate, Alex, Bridget, Gordon, Gavin, and Arim. Uncle to Christian and Buckminster. Killed on June 25, 2008 when his motorcycle collided with a truck in northern Montana. Marcel attended Ascension Grammar School and graduated from OPRFHS in Oak Park, IL in 1997. He graduated from St. John’s College in Santa Fe, New Mexico in 2001. He was to begin his doctoral studies in neuroscience at Washington University, St. Louis, and was traveling around the country to visit family and friends. His love and kindness are carried in the hearts of all who knew him. Please post something so I can see and feel Marcel through all of you. Veronica Fremont

Visitation:

Monday, June 30, 2008
2:00 - 9:00 PM
Peterson-Bassi Funeral Home
6938 W. North Ave. (3 blks. east of Harlem Ave.)
Oak Park, IL 60707
708-848-6661

Funeral:

Tuesday, July 1, 2008
9:15 AM from Peterson-Bassi Funeral Home

10:00 AM
Ascension Church
808 S. East Ave.
Oak Park, IL 60304
708-848-2703

Interment:

Queen of Heaven Cemetery
1400 S. Wolf Rd.
Hillside, IL 60162
708-449-8300

We encourage you to attend Marcel’s interment, and invite you to offer an item graveside to accompany Marcel on his journey in the afterlife.

Open-Mic Celebration of Marcel (after Interment):

1:00 PM until closing
FitzGerald’s Bar & Grill
6615 Roosevelt Rd.
Berwyn, IL 60402

Please join us for a day-into-late evening-into-early morning celebration of Marcel’s life. Come share your favorite stories about Marcel with us — we would love to hear about how Marcel brought meaning and joy to your own life. We have use of FitzGerald’s stage and soundboard, so the Celebration will be a multi-media event. We encourage Marcel’s family and friends to share their love for Marcel in the medium of their choosing — music, spoken word, artwork, etc. Food/beverages will be provided. If you have any questions re: technical requirements for your presentation, please contact Julie at 708-655-1596.