Your Red Cross Update

At 91 years old, Fred Sullivan wakes up every morning at 4:00 a.m., laces up his shoes, and gets moving. Before most people are even thinking about coffee, Fred has already exercised, completed 110 modified pushups, and set out on a three-mile walk. This steady, disciplined routine–along with donating blood every eight weeks whenever possible–has been part of his long and healthy life.

Fred divides his time between Walnut Creek, California, and Port Angeles, Washington, following the seasons. He and his wife bought their Walnut Creek home in 1961, and each year he heads north in April and returns to California in October. Wherever he is, he stays active, engaged, and connected to his community. That commitment extends to the blood donation chair, where Fred holds a special distinction: he is the oldest blood donor at the American Red Cross Pleasant Hill Blood, Platelet and Plasma Donation Center.

Fred’s blood donation journey began when he was just 17 years old. As a senior at Roosevelt High School in Port Angeles, he heard there was a need for blood at the local Elks Club. Students were excused from class to donate, and Fred eagerly joined his classmates.

“A group of us went down and lo and behold the guy behind the bar at the Elks Club said, ‘If you’re old enough to give blood, you’re old enough to drink!’ so they gave us all a shot of bourbon.”

Those were different times for sure! That first experience sparked a lifelong habit of giving. From college days at Western Washington University to teaching, military service, and retirement, donating blood became something he simply did, as naturally as any other part of caring for his health.

Over the decades, Fred built a remarkable career in education. He worked for 56 years in the Mt. Diablo Unified School District, teaching and leading at every level from pre-K through high school, and later serving in district administration overseeing state and federal programs. Along the way, he earned a master’s degree, taught at Cal State Hayward, and continued to donate blood whenever he could—even discovering during his U.S. Army service that donating during the workday came with a bonus: the rest of the day off.

Aside from travel to Europe and Asia and a few unavoidable lapses, Fred has aimed to donate every eight weeks since his teens no matter where he finds himself. In California, he donates through the American Red Cross; in Washington, he gives through another nearby donation center. Over the years, he’s received trophies and recognition for the many gallons he’s donated, but for Fred, the reward is simpler. “After I give blood, I feel like I’ve had an oil change,” he says. “I feel better afterwards.”

Fred’s approach to wellness is practical and balanced. He eats thoughtfully, cooks most of his meals at home, and believes in moderation. Breakfast is usually cereal; lunch is nuts and fruit; dinner is a proper meal—often homemade soup prepared in large batches and frozen for later. He rarely eats out, though he happily admits to one indulgence: a mango smoothie from a local coffee stand after cutting wood in Port Angeles.

He also stays mentally and socially active. Fred plays piano for an hour every day, volunteers, helps maintain park trails, works in his yard, and even drives neighbors to appointments. His love of the outdoors—shaped by summers working in Olympic and Yellowstone National Parks—still shows in his hiking and daily walks.

When asked for advice, Fred keeps it simple. He recommends iron supplements for donors, especially women, and reassures first-timers that donating blood doesn’t hurt. “The first little jab is not much,” he says. “Once they get it going, it’s no problem at all.”

Fred Sullivan’s life is a powerful reminder that healthy habits, generosity, and consistency add up to a lifetime of positive impact. By taking care of himself—and showing up regularly to help others through blood donation—Fred proves that giving back can be a lifelong practice, one that keeps both body and spirit strong for himself and the people whose lives he’s touched.