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| Frank in 2nd Grade |
I remember playing with Frank before we ever even started kindergarten. Frank was always bigger, stronger and faster than me. He was also more obnoxious, disrespectful and fearless. When we went to the park, Frank wouldn't play on the swings or teeter-totter like a normal kid. Instead he would stand on the top of the monkey bars, or climb the park sign. If I told him, "I don't think we are supposed to be doing that", he'd answer by simply saying "Why not?"
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| My nephew doing his best Frank impersonation on the same sign that Frank had hung from 45 years earlier. |
That was pretty much his response to everything growing up. Why not? If he was told to wear dark pants and dark shoes to our First Communion, he would wear just the opposite. Why not?
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| Frank, in the back row, looking saintly in his white shoes. |
He learned early to question authority, and it drove authority crazy. The week before our First Communion, we had a dress rehearsal, complete with us receiving unblessed hosts on our tongue. Each of us solemnly paraded up to the front of the church, as instructed by Sister Dolorita, received our hosts, and returned quietly to our seats. Except for Frank, of course. After eating the host, before he even got to his seat, Frank exclaimed "Ugh! Needs salt." That earned Frank the first of many trips to Sr. Mary Esther's office.
Frank was the kid who taught cuss words to the other boys. He was the one who told me that babies didn't come out of their mommy's belly button. When he got bored, he would turn his eyelids inside out. And he was most likely the one who put a turd in the urinal in the boy's bathroom, but I've never been able to confirm that. "Why would anyone in their right mind do something like that?", Sister asked the boys she had gathered in the bathroom. Inside, I imagine Frank was saying "Why not?"
To say that he was full of energy was an understatement. In one way or another, he was a part of some of my fondest (and most painful) childhood memories.
As the grade school years went by, Frank wore more and more on the teachers and principals. At least once, the 7th and 8th grade girls were forced to give up their recess. Instead, they gathered in the church with Sister Ann Vincent, to pray that the devil would release his hold on Frank. At some point, something broke. I don't know if it was Frank's choice, or the principal's choice, but he left St. Thomas to finish his grade school years at the public school. In a strange way, I missed Frank, but I'm sure he was enjoying himself with a new group of teachers to annoy.
Frank and his old classmates were reunited when we got to high school. He hadn't changed much. He still had little patience for anyone who couldn't keep up with him. He started to soften a bit though. One moment he might be making fun of someone, but the next moment he might be sticking up for someone who was being made fun of.
I didn't see Frank much after high school. Our interactions were limited to class reunions and sporadic e-mail exchanges. I knew he had gotten into body building, and I knew that he had become a firefighter. He once sent me an e-mail apologizing for being a jerk all those years ago. He added "I never had kids but if I had I would have instilled in them the importance of appreciating the talents of those who didn't necessarily run in the same circle."
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| Frank channeling that energy. |
It is fitting that Frank's calling ended up being helping those in need. From what I read, he was an amazing fire fighter and had touched many lives. I can't help but wonder why he ended up choosing that career. If I had asked him, I'm sure he would have said, "Why Not?"
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| Captain Frank Reed 1965-2017 |
