Hearing of the passing of Fred Collins (Collin's Entertainment, Greenville, S.C., I've since had numerous flashbacks of times spent with this unique man. The result has been more than one outward burst of embarrassing laughter.
You can mark his contribution and impact to this industry by a simple observation of the industry today. His gaming expertise, political savvy, ability to take on just about anyone regardless of size without fear, usually with success, but above all his incredibly outgoing, unique, Fred-is-in-the-House personality. I'm sure there are articles elsewhere celebrating his achievements, but all I want to do is share my two favorite Fred stories.
I couldn't have been greener when I met Fred at Notre Dame University in the AMOA Notre Dame Executive Development program, Group One, Session one, probably 1984. I didn't know a soul in the room of 25 veteran operators. I was clearly "the kid." But I noticed that this very outgoing man next to me appeared to know everything there was about, well, everything. So I thought I should get to know him. It was not hard.
I said, "Hi Fred, I'm Randy Chilton," and that is about all I was able to get out. Fred ran the conversation from that point on, as was usually the case. He had a polarizing personality. You either loved him or you didn't. I never competed against him in business, where I'm sure his extreme competitiveness made that experience pleasant for some and not so pleasant for others. I clearly came down on the side of wanting to know more about this man.
I have a picture on my wall at home of Fred and a group of AMOA members playing golf in South Bend, Ind., during one of the AMOA seminars. The year was probably 1985. Peopling the picture are Jerry Sequin (former AMOA program director), John Estridge, Sr., Bill Stone, Jim Stansfield, Gene Urso, Ted Furkin and, of course, Fred. I'll never forget it.
You see, I was 24 years old, and, as the new blood, everyone was being pretty nice to me. At that time in my golfing career, just coming out of some pretty competitive years of playing the game, I was really serious about every shot for no good reason. My intensity was so annoying that I had developed a habit of taking an unbelievable amount of time standing over the ball before I could pull the trigger and hit it. Today, I can only imagine how agonizing that must have been, and how restrained most of the gentlemen I played with were for not calling me out.
Not Fred. After about three hours of seeing my human statue imitation on the tee box, standing for what must have seemed like an eternity over each shot, he couldn't take it anymore. I remember it like it was yesterday, standing on the 12th tee box ready to drive the ball, standing, standing, standing, waggle, waggle, and then in the loudest, most booming voice you've ever heard on a golf course, spoken in a disgusted tone, "Boy, hit the damn ball!"
Everyone almost fell down laughing, including me. Everyone wanted to say it, but Fred did. To this day, 20 years later, I'm conscious of that moment, always concerned that Fred's going to yell at me again. That won't change with his passing. Needless to say, I'm a much faster golfer today.
Fred's straightforwardness was only outclassed by his graciousness. He always invited me to South Carolina to visit him. One week in the 1980s I spent some time with Fred in his hometown. We toured the office, then visited a bowling center that a lot of operators were throwing enormous amounts of money at to get the location. I got my video poker education that day, and it was quite an education for a boy from Wichita.
Fred was organizing dinner for the evening, and said we needed to go by and pick up a friend of his to join us. We drove to the county courthouse and picked up his friend - the Judge. The Judge jumped in the car, and we were out for the night. Seeing the two of them interact for an evening is another memory I won't forget. I was afraid to ask if this judge was presiding over a Collins case at the time. I just assumed he was.
Fred was MOA president in 1975 and was very young for that job. He was off the board by the time I came along, but the stories are legendary. It's been said the biggest compliment you can give someone is to say they remind you of no other person you've ever met. That's Fred. They broke the mold when he was born. The big smile, the larger-than-life laugh, capped off with that jet-black head of hair - there's no one like Fred.
I grieve alongside his family and the people who loved Fred. They have a big void to fill now in their lives. I hadn't heard much of Fred in recent years, not because he hadn't been around, but rather our paths didn't cross like they had in the past.
But when you're walking around the ASI or the next AMOA, where I'm sure
tributes to Fred will be aplenty, you're excused now for the smiles and
laughter that you're sure to experience when the conversation turns to a
great man, a man that made a difference, a man that loved this industry
like few others.