Frederic Ze

Frédéric Ze, 83, died Thursday, August 21, 2025, at home in Phoenix, Arizona, lovingly surrounded by his family, including his wife, his four daughters and two of his sons-in-law and most of his grandchildren. Fred was born on or about October 26, 1941 in a very small village far from any modern town or city in colonial Cameroun in West Africa. His childhood was marked by illness and other hardships that could not quell his intelligence and thirst for knowledge. Despite many obstacles, including long treks through frightening forests, he attended elementary school, impressing his teachers with his intellect and determination to always improve and learn more. He eventually won a place at the Ecole Normale or Teacher Training School where a Swiss missionary was so impressed by his scholarity that he worked to secure him a Presbyterian scholarship to study in the United States. At this time Fred only knew his native language of Bulu and schooling language of French, but he was assured that he would do fine in the US, and so he did. After nine months at the English Language Institute in Parkville, Missouri, Fred was sent to Lewis and Clark College in Portland, Oregon where he studied Physics. There he met his future wife, Susi, and they both eventually attended Michigan State University where Fred earned a Master of Arts for Teachers in Physics before they both returned to Cameroun where they taught at the Collège Evangélique de Libamba and Fred also held the equivalent job of Assistant Director. After four years and the birth of Lisa and Monique, they returned to Michigan where Fred began graduate studies. He realized that the Ph.D. program he wanted to pursue was offered at the University of Iowa and so they moved to Iowa City, where Martina was born. Upon completing his Ph.D., Fred was offered a job at the Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory in Livermore, California, as a research physicist. There their fourth daughter, Rémie, was born. Fred spent his entire career at the lab working in the field of laser fusion. In 1994, the National Physical Science Consortium invited him to take a one-year professional research/teaching leave from the lab to research the reason why NPSC-supported graduate students were having severe academic problems and to suggest steps to increase their graduate degree completion rate. Working with many students, teaching faculty members, and administration, he prepared a comprehensive report and recommendations and spent many hours creating a handbook for those students to aid them in their graduate studies. In 2003, after nearly 25 years at LLNL, Fred chose to retire and devote his time to translating a book for his uncle, Evening Chats: Reflections on Traditions of the Bulus of Southern Cameroon by Daniel R Evina Nna, and ultimately writing his own memoir, which he completed shortly before his death. From his very simple beginnings in colonial Africa to his successes as a research physicist at a national laboratory, Fred lived an incredibly amazing and adventurous life, contributing in his own small way to the knowledge base in laser fusion.But to his family, Fred was simply Daddy, Grandpa, and Papa and he loved them all fiercely. He doted on his daughters and they could always get Daddy on their side; hence the cats, the rabbits and the fancy hutch he built for them, and the heartfelt wedding toasts and innumerable supportive actions. We have all been blessed to have shared his life and will miss him terribly. In addition to his wife, Susi, Fred's family members include daughter and son-in-law Lisa and KmWr Winters and granddaughter Amara of Royal Oak, Michigan and bonus granddaughter Amenta of East Palo Alto, California; daughter Monique and grandchildren Joshua, Torii, and Gavin of Stockton, California; daughter and son-in-law Martina and Eric and grandchildren Owen, Oliver, Zoe, Elijah, Lou, and Gigi of Phoenix, AZ; daughter and son-in-law Rémie and Josh and grandson Reece of Phoenix, AZ. A celebration of life will be held at a date in the future when we will read excerpts from his still to be published autobiography. My earliest memory of my father is my hand in his. To me, Daddy was a man of few words, which meant four things. First, the words and sentiments he expressed aloud are indelibly etched in my memory. "You are the oldest." "You set the example." "You protect your younger sisters." "Family always comes first." "When your mother and I are gone, your sisters will be the only ones who truly know you." But more than these words, the example he set as a father left no room for confusion as to the importance of family. Indeed, the second thing him being a man of few words meant his love for us was always present in his care. Daddy was our first and fiercest protector and most committed provider. His love for us was shown in his consistent and absolute presence in our daily lives. Except for business travel that took him out of the state, my father never missed a dinner, a recital, or a game. He was my ride to school and to so many practices including those ridiculous 5 a.m. basketball practices. The third thing him being a man of few words meant for me was when he spoke more than a few, it could feel like a lecture. What I finally understood as an adult that I could not as a child was the emotional strength and vulnerability it must have taken for Daddy to deliver these long lessons, not in his first or second, but his third language, to children who could not comprehend how much he had sacrificed for us, all girls, to be offered opportunities he had worked so hard for us to have. I know that he, who had overcome so much growing up in a small, rural village in colonial Cameroun, was confounded by the anxieties and dramas of his American-raised teenaged daughters. And yet, he never retreated, always offering compassion when we needed, and then a firm admonition to let the hurt go and keep moving forward. His commitment to and love for us was as deep and profound as the ocean. Finally, the joy he showed as each of his children began their own families was only matched by his incredibly generous gifts to his sons-in-law, be those material gifts or words of advice and care, and his absolute tenderness with his grandchildren, permissive with them in ways that felt at once impossible and revelatory, seeing in each of them their unique gifts, tending to their vulnerabilities with care and affection, and always offering them a truly unconditional love. My daughter remembers his last words to her, after a very American teenage-girl-specific event that surely confounded him as much as anything he had experienced with his own daughters, where what he told her was to remember that she was, at heart, a kind and sweet person. She will carry in her heart her forever these seemingly simple words. For that is the fourth thing that my father being a man of few words meant. The words that he spoke to us about who we were and what we could be were absolute and true. I am eternally grateful that I was blessed with this man to be my father. I hope never to forget what my small hand in his strong hand felt like. My Father was everything a father should be and more. He gave all of his children everything he had, in so many ways, no matter what. We all knew that above all else, he was a dad who could be counted on to the very end. The best story I can tell to sum up who my father was to me is the story about the time he waited until I arrived at his bedside (the last of his daughters to do so) simply because I asked him to, so that I would have the opportunity to say goodbye. I will be eternally grateful for that and all of his sacrifices. I will love him, miss him and keep him in my heart always, knowing that he has returned to the extravagant universe that intrigued him so, and will always be everywhere around those he loved. What I will remember most about my father is the solid unconditional and unwavering love that he had for me. I always knew that no matter what, he would always help and protect me. My father was the man who painted his own two-story house, could coach soccer (although I do believe he was disappointed at the way American girls played soccer versus real "footballers" the rest of the world over), and tutor any math or science subject. There was nothing he couldn't fix or build I truly believe that, and if there was a tool for it he certainly had it. It must have been quite a shock to have 4 relatively girly girls, as one of my earliest memories was my father taking me and my younger sister to see what must have been one of the "Jaws" movie sequels in the theatre. All I remember about that is a lot of blood in the water and leaving the theatre before the movie ended. I grew up thinking I was one of the luckiest kids around and it was in large part due to the great sacrifices that I'm sure my father and of course my mother made for all of us. In high school running track and cross country, the boys on my team were terrified of him. I thought that was pretty cool and also hilarious. I remember him swimming in our swimming pool once and him laughing at how cold it made him, and how our fireplace always had a wonderful fire in the wintertime. I will never forget being walked down the aisle by him, our father daughter dance, or watching him hold all of my babies. In particular, I will not forget the emotion he showed when meeting my first-born boys Owen and Liam in the NiCU. How I loved to see him hold my babies. All my children loved him so much, they couldn't wait to see Papa, to hug him, to sit with him, especially my youngest Gigi. My father will be missed terribly. There is a hole that can never be filled a loss that can never be forgotten or ignored, but I believe that even that is lucky. Lucky to have had such a larger than life father, that nothing could ever make that hole shrink or fade. I am lucky to have such a painful missing piece of me to remind me always that I had the greatest father. I hope he was proud of me, and I hope he knew how proud I was to be his daughter and to have him as a father.could be counted on to the very end. I am fairly certain my dad was the smartest person I have ever met. I also always thought I was as unlike him as anyone could ever be. I spent my childhood disappearing into fantasy worlds inside my head, and my dad was as much of a scientist through and through as I could ever possibly imagine. In fact, his work at LLNL was core to recent (2022) breakthroughs in fusion that may ultimately change energy production for the entire world and hopefully make electricity production clean and cheap for everyone. My dad's mind worked in a way unlike anyone else I knew. I remember distinctly him trying to help me with my homework when I was in middle school, and he could not comprehend how to explain it to me to make my 6th-grade mind understand. And yet he tried. I always remember him trying to help me with my homework, no matter how much it must have frustrated him over and over again. And I am sure homework is not the only way my sisters and I frustrated my dad, tested his patience, and infuriated him with our choices. And yet. There was never a moment I did not feel his neverending protection, his fierce love, and his loyalty and and commitment to his family. When I got married that protection, love, loyalty and commitment automatically extended to my husband. I will always cherish watching them just sitting and chatting together. And even more so when I had my son. The smile that lit up my dad's face when he saw my son gave me a new appreciation for my dad. He was a wonderful Dad and an even more wonderful Grandpa. Even those outside our family could attest to that. Typically the quiet man on the chair, his funny side would come out when you least expect it. Yes, my dad could be very funny and stubborn and cut and dry and loving and set in his ways and the best dad us girls could have ever asked for. As I got older, the more time I spent with my dad, the more I recognized myself in him. Now I know so much of him is in me and I hope to hold on to the parts of me that are the best of him. He will always be the smartest person I have ever met and my heart is just profoundly changed now that my dad is gone. I know his faith always remained in science, but I hope that his energy keeps on and in some way, knows that we will remember him and keep him in our hearts always.