Carlos E Fernandez's Obituary
He was an accountant by profession, and also a fun-loving, witty, caring person, and a devoted husband to his wife of 16 years, Alejandra.
And to me, his only son, Andre, he wasn’t just my dad. He was like a trusted friend or that older brother you can have fun with and confide in no matter what.
It is with love and respect, that we mourn the passing of Carlos Enrique Fernandez, who left this world on the morning of June 30th, 2026, after a battle with Acute Myeloid Leukemia.
Although we feel great sadness in this difficult moment, we celebrate his life and the person he was to his son, his wife and the extended family that loved him so much.
Carlos was born in Havana, Cuba, and was the lone son of Elena Rosario Paez Pumariega and Carlos Manuel Fernandez. He came to South Florida from Cuba at age 13 as part of the Pedro Pan movement, organized with help from the U.S. government and the Archdiocese of Miami in the early 1960s to send unaccompanied children to the U.S. to spare them from being drafted into the Castro dictatorship’s military.
Once he arrived, he studied at the now-defunct Graham-Eckes School, a boarding school in West Palm Beach. He spent a year there until his parents were able to reunite with him and move to Miami.
During that time, Carlos became a multi-sport athlete, swimming, running and playing basketball.
There, he even once shook then-President John F. Kennedy’s hand during a visit to the school, something he never forgot and liked to tell people throughout his life. One of the most gratifying trips we ever shared was one we took to Dallas years later where we visited the Sixth Floor Museum exhibit and Dealey Plaza where the assassination took place.
Carlos was loved for being a good friend and for his witty sense of humor. He never shied away from telling a funny story even if it was self-deprecating.
After Graham-Eckes, Carlos attended Miami Senior High School in the late 1960s where he played football.
But his time on the football team didn’t last long as he recalls the game he got benched from being the team’s punt returner after he forgot to call for a fair catch.
“I got hit so hard, the ball went flying in one direction, my helmet in the other and me to the ground. The coach at the time told me to go to the bench and I never got back in,” Carlos often recalled.
No matter, Carlos also succeeded where it mattered most - in the classroom. Even while working part-time jobs and going to night school, he graduated high school.
He would later earn degrees in accounting and marketing from Miami-Dade College and later FIU as part of their first graduating class. He became an accountant and worked in that profession to the end, still worrying about getting his clients’ services done on time despite undergoing treatment for the cruel disease which would eventually claim his life.
He did my taxes for over 20 years, and always tried to help his clients save money as much as possible. If you owed a lot to the IRS, he would say in Spanish, “Don’t worry, I’ll sharpen the pencil and see how much we can trim this down.”
At age 29, Carlos married Michele Stroud, a former co-worker at one of the jobs he worked while going to college. Their union lasted nearly a decade until they went their separate ways. But they shared a long-distance bond through their son, Andre Carlos Fernandez (me). Although they were both accountants, I didn’t follow in their footsteps, and chose to become a sports journalist.
Carlos would marry and divorce twice more over the next 25 years. But he didn’t find true happiness again until he met Maria Alejandra Mairena. They married in 2010 and spent nearly 16 beautiful years together where they each found happiness in their love for each other.
Carlos survived prostate cancer 12 years ago before the terrible disease resurfaced in recent months in the form of leukemia. But he remained devoted to her and she to him as she cared for him through the toughest of times during his final years and was by his side as he passed from this world.
Carlos loved a good meal whether it was home-cooked or at one of his favorite restaurants. He was always down for a good time and didn’t believe in letting life hurry him up when he was having fun.
A slow eater, he was often the last one to finish his plate, and couldn’t stand being rushed at restaurants as his son frequently witnessed during lunches we shared at places like Season’s 52 and other spots in Coral Gables in recent years.
That love for food made him overweight in recent years. But his sense of humor about it made his friends and his son’s friends laugh and come to love him for that fun personality. Before his son’s wedding in 2010, he discovered that the store from which he rented his tuxedo labeled his size as “Portly.” He swore never to rent from them again.
As a proud Miami High Stingaree his whole life, he jumped at the chance to co-star in an online high school football show that his son and one of his close friends, Manny Navarro, filmed on-site at Miami High for their employer, the Miami Herald.
His sense of humor carried through as even with barely any knowledge of the subject matter he kept a smile on his face and “made predictions,” even jumping the gun just to spike the ball and yell “Stingarees” to predict a game that didn’t even involve them.
No matter how bad the Miami High football team was in recent years, he’d still ask me: “Hey, did we beat (Coral) Gables this year?”
Carlos was also a big fan of The Beatles and the Miami Dolphins.
His ringtone was The Beatles’ hit, “Eleanor Rigby,” could be heard blaring even in his hospital room in his final days whenever someone called him. If a Beatles song came on the speakers somewhere in public, he’d recognize it and even sing a few bars and tell you what year or era it was from.
He liked most Miami teams, but loved the Dolphins most of all.
He watched and attended some games during the 1972 Perfect Season and the team’s glory years in the early 1970s. He always told stories about watching the 1971 playoff win over the Kansas City Chiefs in double overtime, and watching the playoff loss in overtime in 1981 against the San Diego Chargers.
I’ll always have fond memories with my father that are linked to the Dolphins.
My dad took me to multiple Dolphins games as a kid and, in 1985, took me to meet legendary coach Don Shula and several players at the team’s “fan fest” at the Orange Bowl.
He also playfully made me believe when I was very young that he was Manny Fernandez, the Dolphins’ former standout defensive lineman - something I refused to disprove until I was older and realized, “Dad, Manny Fernandez was bald. You’re not.”
Manny Fernandez and my dad did both pass away within a couple of months of each other. Interesting.
My father and I didn’t live together for a long time after he divorced my mom. But I still have cherished memories with him.
When I was a teenager, my father took me to a recording of “The Dan Marino Show,” knowing Marino was my favorite player growing up. I was too young to go inside because the show was recorded at a sports bar. But my dad went in and got Marino to autograph a cap for him that he then gave me.
As we say goodbye to Carlos, moments like that, and so many more, mean the world to me, as does the fact that he was able to see me grow up and succeed in my profession.
When he was physically able, he’d love coming with me to high school football games and would even roam the sidelines with me at games, even making friends with some of the high school coaches, who still ask me about him from time to time.
He often proudly told people, if there was a big game going on that he knew I was covering, “Hey, Andre is there right now.”
Even in his final days, despite feeling terrible due to the effects of his chemo treatment and other medications, he watched World Cup matches with me from his hospital room. The day before he passed, he asked me, “Is the USA playing today?”
Hopefully, I live long enough to see the Dolphins win a Super Bowl and I can share that story with my dad when we see each other again someday.
Carlos is survived by his son, Andre, his aunt, Martica, and his loving wife, Maria Alejandra, and we will both honor his memory for the rest of our lives and cherish the memories we have with him.
A viewing for Carlos will be held Monday, July 6 from 6-10 pm at Van Orsdel Funeral Home located at 11220 North Kendall Drive (SW 88 St.).
A memorial service at Van Orsdel will take place Tuesday, July 7 at 11 am followed by burial at Our Lady of Mercy Catholic Cemetery in Doral (11411 NW 25th St, Doral, FL 33172).
In lieu of flowers, I’d like to encourage anyone who would like to attend to make a donation to the American Cancer Society on Carlos’ behalf:
What’s your fondest memory of Carlos?
What’s a lesson you learned from Carlos?
Share a story where Carlos' kindness touched your heart.
Describe a day with Carlos you’ll never forget.
How did Carlos make you smile?
