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Writer, artist remembered for 'kind and gentle' demeanor

Lead Summary
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By
Lori Sorenson

The community of Luverne and Rock County lost a kind and gentle soul early Sunday morning when Frederick Manfred Jr. passed away in Sioux Falls under hospice care.
He was 62 years old and had fought the effects of kidney disease most of his adult life.
Fred was born in and lived in Luverne most of his life, and his friends knew him as a big man with an even bigger heart.
"He was gentle — and very empathetic,” said Ben Vander Kooi, who graduated with Manfred in the Luverne High School Class of 1972. “He cared a lot about people and what they were doing.”
Another classmate, Joel Christensen, was with Manfred in final moments.
“Fred was a very special friend, a best friend. We knew each other since the first grade, so our friendship had a huge impact on who I am today,” Christensen said.
“Fred was kind and humble and had a silly sense of humor. He loved to banter.”
Manfred grew up the son of regionally acclaimed author Fred Manfred Sr., but the junior Manfred left his own mark on the world of writing — poetry, children’s stories and columns.
He wrote an award-winning newspaper column, “The Spirit of Sports,” for the Rock County Star Herald, and then turned to plays.
In 1979 he penned a full-length play, “Tongues of Stone,” about his Blue Mounds ancestors from 1912-1939. It was performed at the Blue Mounds State Park for audiences of more than 500 people.
In 1996 he taught a theater class in Luverne High School in which he encouraged students to interview older citizens to learn about their roots.
He became well known in the arts community — particularly in the Green Earth Players theater group.
And he wrote an autobiographical account of life after his kidney transplants, which provided a glimpse of what it’s like to live with a chronic health condition.
But his friends and family say his kidney disease is perhaps what allowed him to make the most profound impact on those around him.
Tammy Johnson is Executive Director of the Luverne Housing and Redevelopment Authority, which means she manages the Blue Mound Towers where Manfred lived more than 20 years.
“He was a beautiful mind in an ailing body,” Johnson said. “He never played the ‘poor me’ card. He was creative, smart and kind.”
She said she could tell he was getting worn down, but he told her, “I try to be a living example of what it’s like to live with limitations.”
Christensen recalled this same perseverance in his friend. “In addition to his love for people, I think the thing he will be most remembered for is how he embraced his kidney disease and lived life in a positive way,” he said.
“Fred was very smart and took responsibility for his body which is why he was able to live with the issue for 35 years,” he said.
“He was admired by patient and medical staff alike in his dialysis unit and was actually involved in the unit’s technical training program. As his brother-in-law, Tom, coined, he was a professional patient.”
Manfred’s sister Freya shared that his doctor once remarked that “Fred's drive for independence supersedes everything, and I've never seen it in anyone so strongly.”
In a 2002 Star Herald story about Manfred’s search for a living kidney donor, he spoke about becoming familiar with the eight to 10 other dialysis patients in the unit with the same schedule.
“One of the emotional events of dialysis patients is to show up at your unit and see an empty chair,” he said. “The majority of kidney patients die of heart failure, so they’re encouraged to exercise for endurance. That’s why I ride my bike everywhere.”
Freya said he lived so long after stopping dialysis. “He'd cared so well for his body, many parts of his body were in amazingly good shape for one on dialysis so long,” she said.
Manfred served as the resident representative on the HRA Board, and Johnson said he advocated for residents in the tower.
“The tenants there are going to miss him,” Johnson said. “He had that way about him … that he connected with people. He was a people magnet.”
She said Manfred lived in a small apartment and had difficulty moving around, but she couldn’t talk him into moving to a more spacious apartment.
“He chose to live humbly. He lived on the seventh floor and faced north. He could stare out that window forever and watch the snow fall on the Mounds.” Johnson said. “He told me ‘I’m looking out over home (Manfred grew up on the Blue Mounds). I can’t lose this view.’”
In the past few weeks, she said she’d had a conversation with Manfred about his quality of life and if he would continue his dialysis.
“He told me, ‘I really don’t have much quality of life anymore, but maybe I’m still here for a reason,’” Johnson recalled. “And I told him, ‘Fred you are a blessing. You are the blessing that came with the job when I started here.’ And he told me, ‘See? I’m still working my magic.’”
Christensen said Manfred was a “true inspiration” in adulthood.
“In the last couple of weeks, Fred talked about the number of blessings he had. I think that is remarkable when you put it into the context of what he was going through,” Christensen said. “He was special. I’ll miss him dearly.”
His family and friends are planning a memorial service for the weekend of June 25. See page 7A for the complete obituary.

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