Freddie Goodhart

His "proper" name was Fredrick Phillips McCormick Goodhart. Everybody called him Freddie. He was born to in the late 20's. He had a thing about his age and where he was born. I knew him for years before we deduced he was born "when Hoover was President."  Freddy never looked or acted his age.

I met Freddie and his wife, Vicki,  shortly after they were married in 1971. I was living outside Washington D.C.  Freddie and Vicki came to a Sunday pickin' with John and Fayssoux Starling , Ben Eldridge and a bunch of other DC pickers.

Freddie and Vicki invited me to come down to visit. I was teaching school in Md. and during the summer, I headed down to Lexington. That's where I met the  "tribe". Rita, Sonny, Billy, Michael and Lawrence. These were Freddie's children from his first wife, who had died.

I remember Vicki putting a gallon of milk at each end of the table.Spagetti sauce was made by the gallon.  Food just vanished, and so did the kids when the feeding frenzy was over. It left me sorta' breathless. It was one of many, many visits to Lexington, Va. the hospitality of Freddie, Vikki and the keds.  Jefferson Street Second Hand Shop.

 Freddie was a car freak. On the day we met he was drawn like a magnet to my 1937 Ford .Camelback. He didn't get that car, but we traded many a car in the years I knew him. I found later he had owned a junkyard and had most every car ever made. I had many a fine trip "junkin" with Freddy.

His main concern in life were his family. His second and third concerns were music and "junk".

Freddie took up mandolin and eventually banjo, guitar and piano. He could pretty much tell you the call letters of every AM radio station in Virginia, Maryland and Florida, and played on many of them. He played with all the the best, and knew the rest. There are stories Ralph Stanley's bus blocking Second Street while Ralph was trying out one of Freddie's banjos. He sold cars to Don Reno in Roanoke, when Reno was in the car buiness. He played with Mac Wiseman in his "pickup" bands.
He was a great, and generous, musician

 Freddie, as a master of junk had to be master of the deal. He always had something "wasn't for sale" to keep you coming back.  He had a way of dealing with people, rich or poor, in the same relaxed, off hand way. Freddie didn't need "no stinking diploma" to wheel and deal. Everything was for sale, except the kids and Vicki.

Everyone in Lexington knew Freddie. No student at Washington and Lee could have survived the 60's 70's and 80's without Freddy's Jefferson Street Second Hand Shop or Freddie's junk yard. He sold furniture to students, bought it back in the spring, and resold it next year. He sold $200.00 cars to students and anyone else who needed cheap transport. He would buy 'em back when they quit, junk it and make a profit...again. Furniture, musical instruments, old cars, and most anything else to make a profit...and keep it fun. He even tried his hand at a saw mill run by a hit and miss engine...it about got the best of him. He traded it for an old Volvo when his arm got well.

 Freddie's shop and junk yard supplied Lexington with the unusual: 1930 Cracker Jack toys, Roseville Pottery,  old cars, used car parts, used furniture, and everything in between. His 1938 Packard touring car,  a 1938 Buick Convertible, and pre war F 5 Gibson mandolin, were commonplace. No one was surprised by whatever came and went through Freddy's shop or his junk yard. It was like a "clearing house for the unwanted, unusual, and unimaginable."

The Jefferson Street Second Hand Shop hours were sporadic. In summer, when I was there, we were out of the shop by 3:00 and heading for Goshen Pass to swim in the river. If it was really hot, we'd leave earlier. There were times there would be notes on the door inquiring about hours and certain goodies hanging on the walls.  One guy kept showing up until he finally found Freddy open. He got what he wanted and wrote a clever song about the shop... Freddie's Open.

Freddie's shop was a local treasure. Deals were done, stories told, junk swapped, tune's picked and sung. It was a low key meeting place for lunch, a haircut at Wendell's Barber Shop next door, or a visit to Vicki's Art Gallery two doors down.

Florida was Freddie's second home.  He had numerous house over the years, buying and selling, always at a profit. He'd leave the ice and snow for music and junking in. Florida was his picking place; he picked music and picked treasures for the Lexington operation from Estate sales and flea markets. He would leave mid January and stay till tax time. Vicki would join him for a few weeks in February, as she had her own Art Gallery in Lexington to run. Some years, Janice and I would slip down to spend a week...picking music and junking right along side him.

Freddie had a brain hemorrhage the day before we were going to visit him in March. Vicki asked us to come on anyway. We made it to the hospital for have a conversation with him. Freddie died 4 days later surrounded by family, and music.

 Freddie's son, Billy offered this Eulogy on the phone. "At the end, the General (Freddie) tipped his hat, flicked the reins, and started down the long road. Wasn't long before he found a 15 foot high Pink Flamingo...his first find for the new shop."  A more formal l eulogy followed, but Billy was probably right.

I'll be looking for his new shop one of these days myself. I want to show Freddie my 1917 A-4 Gibson Mandolin like the one he sold me in 1976 which someone walked off with. I've got a 55 Olds rocket hood ornament and another New Mexico license plate to swap for the 1955 Motor's Manual to keep my '54 Chevrolet truck running, That book might be for sale by now, but I'll have to pay his price, I'm sure.

One thing for sure; people from all walks of life and in many places have Freddie stories. I for one, have my share. All of them make me smile.

Addendum:

It's been over a year since Freddie died. Vicki planned a memorial service for him. We all came together, but Fredrick had other plans; a hurricane turned us away in August. We did all over again in Oct. '18 during the first cold spell of the fall. I think every musician he ever played with showed up and showed off, cold fingers and all.

Suddenly  it was over. We drove the dark winding road out of his favorite Lime Kiln venue, which he did so much to resurrect.

 Dark, rainy cold and over...Freddie was gone.

Vicki has worked hard to sell the farm. It's just too much for her to keep up by herself. It looks beautiful. Freddie's son Seth has made arrangements with his siblings to continue the Jefferson Street Second Hand Shop. I wish them all well.

Happy trails, Freddie. I miss you...and thank you for the patience you showed in teaching me to become a descent mandolin and guitar player, and introducing me to SO many wonderful musicians. I enjoyed every tune of it! Let's Keep on the Sunny Side!