Fred Morrison

It was a simple idea, the Frisbee. And Fred, who died Feb. 9 at 90, was just the sort of fellow you would have wanted to invent it: playful in mind and in spirit to the very end. He once referred to himself indirectly as “Admiral Asteroid, Conqueror of the Cosmic All.” Early on, he convinced county fairgoers that his discs flew on an invisible wire: 100 feet for $1; the disc was free! I bought one of his legendary Pluto Platters–the archetype for all modern plastic flying discs–as a 10-year-old in the spring of 1957.

A few months later, the toy company Wham-O, which had acquired the rights to the Pluto Platter, heard that students back East were tossing around pie tins from the Frisbie Pie Co. Wham-O soon trademarked the name Frisbee. As part of the instructions molded into the bottom of the original Pluto Platters, Fred encouraged players to “Invent Games” and “Experiment!” And people did. From ordinary backyard play to international competitions, the humble plastic flying disc has united the world in fun. Who doesn’t know what to do with a Frisbee?

Fred often spoke of his total astonishment at how his simple idea for a better-flying cake pan took off. “It’s amaaaaazing … I’ve been the luckiest guy in the world!”

Smooth flights, Fred.

Kennedy wrote Flat Flip Flies Straight: True Origins of the Frisbee with Morrison