Wednesday, July 25
Frank
My friend Frank died suddenly on Monday. Out of nowhere. May have been his heart -- I haven't heard for sure yet. Words can't describe the sense of loss, for him of course, and mostly for his family and hundreds of friends. And for ourselves. People are trying, and they're doing a great job capturing in a few hundred words what Frank was like.
But still. He was just a few years older than me, and we met after our wives met in a park because our kids found each other. Our kids are the same age, born three days apart in 1990. We were both pretty much new to town, and our families spent a lot of time together between about 1993 and 2001, and then we moved west and we started new jobs and our kids started running in different school circles and, y'know, we get busy. Frank and I served on boards and committees together, share the presidency of a church of all things, and our families went camping together and sailing in his hand-built boat, we helped each other move a number of times, we drank a lot of beer in his backyard and so on and so on. We planned a series of fishing movies featuring him as the Pharaoh of Evans. He dreamed of retiring to a sailboat in the Caribbean.
He was for sure the smartest guy I've ever known, about everything and anything. He knew his philosophy, and baseball, and fly fishing and pretty much everything else. At his house yesterday I saw on his desk a book on how to write a screenplay. And he had tremendous joy in sticking it to the authorities of any shape or stripe.
I can't believe he's gone, but I'm so glad we ran into him in the grocery store about two weeks ago, in the vegetable aisle. He was talking to two or three other people, and while we visited two others came up to pat him on the back and exchange pleasantries. Seems like everyone knew him, and was friends was him.
Anyway. Life goes on, perhaps, but not nearly as joyously. See ya, Frank.
But still. He was just a few years older than me, and we met after our wives met in a park because our kids found each other. Our kids are the same age, born three days apart in 1990. We were both pretty much new to town, and our families spent a lot of time together between about 1993 and 2001, and then we moved west and we started new jobs and our kids started running in different school circles and, y'know, we get busy. Frank and I served on boards and committees together, share the presidency of a church of all things, and our families went camping together and sailing in his hand-built boat, we helped each other move a number of times, we drank a lot of beer in his backyard and so on and so on. We planned a series of fishing movies featuring him as the Pharaoh of Evans. He dreamed of retiring to a sailboat in the Caribbean.
He was for sure the smartest guy I've ever known, about everything and anything. He knew his philosophy, and baseball, and fly fishing and pretty much everything else. At his house yesterday I saw on his desk a book on how to write a screenplay. And he had tremendous joy in sticking it to the authorities of any shape or stripe.
I can't believe he's gone, but I'm so glad we ran into him in the grocery store about two weeks ago, in the vegetable aisle. He was talking to two or three other people, and while we visited two others came up to pat him on the back and exchange pleasantries. Seems like everyone knew him, and was friends was him.
Anyway. Life goes on, perhaps, but not nearly as joyously. See ya, Frank.
