Originally published Sept. 17, 2013: The latest unconventional obituary to go viral celebrates a dad from Georgia who ”attracted more women than a shoe sale at Macy’s.”
“Our dad was a unique and special guy,” Mark McCullough, the oldest of William “Freddie” McCullough’s six kids, tells the Savannah Morning News. “I wanted to do things differently to honor him with an obit that fit him.”
Mark, a filmmaker, is developing a TV show based on his father.
From the obit, it sounds like Dad already wrote the series for him:
(Freddie) hated vegetables and hypocrites. Not necessarily in that order.
(He) was great at growing fruit trees, grilling chicken and ribs, popping wheelies on his Harley at 50 mph, making everyone feel appreciated and hitting Coke bottles at thirty yards with his 45.
Freddie loved to tell stories. And you could be sure 50% of every story was true. You just never knew which 50%.
(He) adored the ladies. And they adored him. There isn’t enough space here to list all of the women from Freddie’s past. There isn’t enough space in the … phone book.
You can read the rest of Freddie’s adventures here.
Another dad who became famous online is a self-proclaimed “old-fashioned, redneck” whose daughter did not adhere to his “modesty guidelines.” You can read about how he gave her an inventive lesson on skimpy clothing here.
And a dad from Canada struck a nerve when he got fed up with his kids not playing outside. He decided to flip back the calendar to 1986. You can read about his experiment with no cellphones, no computers and no Internet here.
Even dads who aren’t around can make a lasting impression. A boy who never got the chance to know his father, an Army sergeant killed in Iraq, is keeping alive the selfless spirit of his dad. Read about the 8-year-old’s generosity here.
And, perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised that the man who wrote “people say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day” worked for the government. The (real) father of Christopher Robin and whimsical progenitor to Winnie-the-Pooh was a spy — or more precisely a propaganda writer for a secret military unit during World War I. Bother.