at the fieldhouse, me of change for his mid-60s. king in members of through the door and passes. During the equipment. Afterwards as they headed conference. te fieldhouse, Plank of the games. Bur becoming acquainted cities who were, well, counter with a reckless Dick Vitale. A had asked to do an "after a game he view in a hallway of vitale was shouting houses in other press voice. I had to ask him to He recalls Vitale nality," to which he " iw legendary Kansas histocrat, his counter- opera Capital-Journal opening. ld be made through last spring, Plank haikis, a white a red sweater vest, oat and tie he had but Plank remained a of a reminder of bygone him. w says Debbie Luman, rives assistant. "I just s's just one of those smile, and he likes to Louise Ecord, Wil-ative assistant. smile walking to the skp paused to talk to a front desk of the media working with people like young," he says with emur is evident after sitting in the bleachers. picture taken, to which ★★★☆★★ he smiles his smile and says, "I hope I don't break the camera." He doesn't want to sit back down. His back is stiff. "Are we about through?" he asks. Plank walks carefully back down the steps gripping the rail. He isn't going to leave the building until he has finished making his rounds, visiting old friends. He often comes back to the place when he has business in Lawrence. When Crowd Systems took over Kansas events management this season. Plank was simply told he was no longer under contract one day, and it was over. No party. No cake. Just an old man sent home with his memories "I don't know what the situation was," he says. "Whether I'm too old or what, they did not contact me." Ask him if he misses it and he has no reservations. "Definitely," he says, laughing. "It got to be a habit, actually." To many, including members of the press and Jayhawk sports community, Plank's presence meant something. To them he was the words on the statue of Phog Allen — the part people may stop to glance at but don't really digest. Track coach Stanley Redwine has seen Plank throughout the last four-and-a-half years from his office in the fieldhouse and at the annual KU Relays. They would see him around, say “hi” and make small talk, even if they didn’t really get to know him. In fact, if you say his name, they might ask, “who?” But it’s the image of his smile that makes them remember. "O yeah, I know who he is." Redwine says. "It seems like he works every event." Max Falkenstien recalls the 20 years Plank greeted him at the door when he checked into the media room. "I didn't really know Fred that well, but he knew I liked to play golf and I knew he liked to ask golf," Falkenstein says. "He always asked me whether I'd played, no matter what the weather was like, whether it was 10 degrees or 70 degrees." Those who worked with Plank more closely say he was more than just a friendly face and a warm smile. They say the old gentleman was what Kansas sports was all about for 46 years. Jim Porter puts it best, because he knows Plank best. Porter was on the bowling team way back when with Plank and Sarge Morgison. He is the custodian manager in the house, where he has worked for 18 years. He's an older man with somewhat of a gruff voice, but mention Plank, and he turns to jelly. "You look at Allen Fieldhouse and you look at Kansas basketball, and it's about traditions and great people," says Doug Vance, who served as the Assistant Athletes Director for media relations for 20 years. "Fred fit that mold. He was always one of the first people to arrive and I always wanted to take the time to talk to him." "He was always willing to help anybody at any time," he says. "He was willing to work weird hours. He did the jobs no one else was willing to do. He's just one of the nicest gentlemen you'd ever want to meet." ★