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Fred Haman

June 26, 1930 – June 29, 2019



Rev. Frederick G. Haman, Jr., 89, of Denver, CO was born in Lima, Ohio to Frederick and Harriett Haman, and was preceded in death by his younger sister Marjorie Bowersock. He was a graduate of Wittenberg College in Springfield, OH and Hamma School of Theology in Canton, OH. He was ordained on May 22, 1957. He served as Pastor and Associate Pastor for congregations in Ohio, Texas, Tennessee and Illinois. He also served as Director of Congregational Relations on the staff of Interfaith Ministries for Greater Houston, and Visitation Pastor at Christ the King Lutheran Church in Houston, Texas.


In 1958 he accepted the call from the Board of Foreign Missions of ULCA to serve in Malaysia and worked with four Chinese evangelists in nine Malaysian villages, preaching weekly in the Cantonese dialect until 1961. From 1971 until 1986 he was on staff of the Ecumenical Institute/Institute of Cultural Affairs based in Chicago, IL. His work included assignments in Iowa, Oklahoma, Washington, Colorado, Wyoming, Utah, and Washington, D.C., as well as the nations of Venezuela, Jamaica, Nigeria, Italy, Belgium and Wales.


From a young age he felt called to be a Pastor, and his love of God fueled his passion for social justice and equality for all people. He had a great sense of humor and loved language, travel (having traveled around the world twice), literature, history, trivia, crossword puzzles, and was a sports enthusiast.


He married Ruth E. (Drischell) Haman on June 20, 1954 who became a missing person in November 1972. He is survived by their three children: Douglas C. Haman, Julianne P. H. Pappano (Richard), and Lorianne M. Nash. He is also survived by his daughter Aimee C. Duffy, daughter of he and Claudia Haman. He was preceded in death by his wife Peggy C. Sale. His step-children Shelley Sale, Hillary Sale (Ned) and Jeff Sale (Jaylin) also survive him.He also leaves behind nine grandchildren and numerous nieces and nephews.


He began fighting for social justice and equality before his time. His humanitarian efforts included the support of world hunger relief and several other social programs. Those of us fortunate to have known him are eternally grateful for the gift of broadening our view of the world and the lesson of acceptance of all God’s creation.


Fred was part of the Chicago Religious House with us in Fifth City many years ago.  (Jeremiah was in kindergarten or lst grade, so about 1983.)  I recall that he was involved with a Lutheran congregation at that time and also trying to keep us all healthy with Shaklee vitamins which helped supplement his income.  He also was part of the staff of Fifth City Business Careers as it started up.  Fred’s gentle manner and hearty chuckle comes to mind as I remember him.


His daughter Lori wrote the following in response to some of my questions: My daughter’s and I were able to drive up from Texas to be with Dad and Juli for almost a week before he passed. He made it there days past his 89th birthday. It was a full life. I still live in Texas, but he was in Colorado with my sister, Juli, talking care of him the last four years.


Our deep care to Doug, Julie and Lori who were all part of our Phase I programs.  Journey on, dear colleague,

           ~~  Lynda and John Cock

I worked with Fred in Uptown and he was a hoot to work with. …  Journey on, dear Fred.  In sympathy to all his family and friends,

           ~~. Isobel Bishop



Joe and I remember Fred Haman as what Bishop Jim Mathews would have called “a statesman of the church.”  Even in secular Uptown, he reached out to and pastored the People’s Church, just a stone’s throw from the ICA, and made it possible for us to hold a number of important community outreach events there.  I recall the twinkle in his eye and his pastoral kindness, even when the style du jour was “being the General.”


Joe, now at the ripe old age of 91, was a contemporary of Fred, along with Phil Townley.  Even then, back in the early days, they were a slightly “older” trio of pastors who had been seasoned in the trenches of the local church and the social justice efforts of the 60s before becoming part of our Order, and seemed to have an “understood fraternity.”


We celebrate Fred’s competed life, and the many acts of service he performed around the world (many of which we just learned about by reading his obituary), and especially his abiding love of his family, the church and the Order.

          ~~  Marilyn and Joe Crocker


In celebration of his unique and unrepeatable life, here’s an episode Fred and I shared once upon a time:

Working out of the Brussels Nexus in 1970 something, Fred and I were assigned to go to Rome for a few days work with the Rome House. As was usual, we took the train from Brussels to Paris and went across the city to another “gate” to catch an overnight couchette to Rome, arriving in Rome at about 7:30 a.m. Many will remember that a “couchette” was a regular coach compartment during the day, but in the evening the seats were folded to create six stacked bunks, three on each side of the compartment.


We modest Americans usually took our shoes off and slept in our clothes, but many of the Europeans and others would change into night clothes before retiring. This particular evening there was an older Italian gentleman who withdrew to the lavatory, changed into his flannel pajamas, and returned to bid us all a good night.  However, on the top bunk  across from the bunks Fred and I were occupying, was an attractive young French woman who decided to undress and put on her nightie, right there in front of God and everybody. (Fred and I were among “everybody.”) I’m quite sure that both of us did our best to avert our eyes, more-or-less successfully.


We managed a night of relative rest and when we awoke the next morning, to our relief, the young woman was already dressed for the day. For whatever reason, she struck up a conversation with us, during which we learned that she lived in Rome. We never knew what prompted her to do so, but as we were pulling into the station in Rome, she extended an invitation to the two of us to come to go home with her for breakfast. I recall clearly, Fred and I did a double-take, and after a reassuring glance at each other that conveyed “No way!”, we graciously declined her invitation as we made our way off the train and to our first appointment of the day.


I had not seen Fred in years, but I miss him just knowing he is no longer physically among us. May he rest in the peace he so well deserves.

          ~~  Randy Williams