Issue date: February 24, 1999

Snapshot on Atherton's Fred Herzer: His mind's eye works overtime Snapshot on Atherton's Fred Herzer: His mind's eye works overtime (February 24, 1999)

He doesn't see any limits on his horizons

By TOM GIBBONEY

Fred Herzer is the kind of guy you would expect to have a twinkle in his eye. He is upbeat, gregarious, enjoys his leisure time with his wife, swims with his grandchildren, and rides his exercise bike every day. He will talk your arm off on just about any subject, including the stock market, which he monitors constantly.

On many a morning, he will saunter out of his Atherton home down to the train station, hop on a car bound for Menlo Park, where he jumps off and heads up to McDonald's for breakfast.

"That's where I get to practice my Spanish," he says, referring to the language spoken by many of the restaurant's servers.

First-time acquaintances might think Fred's activities are pretty extraordinary for someone who is 72 years old. And they would be right, even if they don't know that Fred lost his sight when he was 9 years old, in a Southern California train accident.

"It was a matter of kids playing too close to the tracks," he said.

Fred has no hard feelings about his blindness, or the railroad. In fact, the train has been his primary means of transportation for many years. Known as the "hopper" by conductors, Fred simply uses his cane to find his way aboard, or in summer, he listens for the air conditioning units that are located over each doorway.

Fred has lived near the Atherton train station for more than 30 years in a house he had built for $13 a square foot. It was a good deal back then, and no surprise, since financing homes was Fred's business. He made up for not being able to see by asking a lot of questions and knowing his mathematics.

"I love to bargain. When you're buying, the price is always too high. When you're selling, it's always too low. I love mathematics. I love calculations and ratios. I've been pretty successful at it."

Fred found his niche quickly after graduating from Berkeley in 1949. He started out selling real estate and insurance in San Bruno. He soon began financing construction and residential loans, accumulating real estate along the way.

The business grew, and in the process he met Virginia, when she became his secretary in 1953. They have been together ever since.

On an early home deal, Fred recalls riding out to the site with the appraiser, who shared critical information on the spot. He estimates that he financed 3,000 or more homes in his career, and at one time owned more than 30 rental properties. Today, Financial Services is in the hands of his son, David, who continues to operate out of the firm's Oak Grove Avenue offices in Menlo Park.

Occasionally, deals go sour. Fred admits to "getting whacked" a time or two.

"I once made a loan to a guy in Hayward on a house that ultimately slid down a hill. You can't be in business without some disasters," he said, with a chuckle.

Now Fred plays the stock market, which he follows actively by radio and telephone.

"I'm a little bit cautious now. As you get older, you have to be more conservative."

Playing the market keeps Fred busy on many a morning, but his favorite hobby is playing duplicate bridge with some of the area's best players. When Fred competes, about twice a week now, every table must play with his special Braille cards.

"I'm the only life master bridge player using Braille cards west of the Mississippi River," Fred says proudly. With nearly 700 life master points, Fred is a threat at any bridge table.

But while he enjoys the big-time competition in Palo Alto or San Mateo, Fred often plays "home style" bridge with Virginia and a few friends.

"I'm always looking for people to play," he says.

Fred and Virginia are avid travelers, often heading to Palm Springs or Europe for better weather or to exercise Fred's language skills.

Does he feel he missed anything due to his lack of sight? How about driving a car, watching television? Fred thinks a minute, and says no.

"If I had a little airplane, that would be fine. But I don't miss anything. I can listen to TV. I have a 20-month-old granddaughter who they say is beautiful. But I do see her in my mind."

Tom Gibboney is publisher of The Almanac.




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