Tuesday, February 3, 2015
I met Frank in 1950. He and I shared the same curiosity for nature and science in general. We each had our down cellar rooms filled with rocks, stuffed animals and such. We molded figures in plaster of Paris and painted them up and sold them to sympathetic neighbours. We both developed an interest in painting and art. We spent many a summer in the fields where the Fairview Mall is now catching butterflies etc. or rock hunting in the Niagara Glen. When Frank got to be 6 foot something we put him in goal when we played street hockey every winter on Kernahan until it was dark. When Frank went to work at the Standard he wrote a column about 3 guys trying to bake bread. That was at my house. As all gangs do we drifted off into our own lives. Sometimes when I came home from Toronto Frank and I would get together for a cold one. We exchanged Christmas cards every year. When I cross his name off my list as I have for so many, I'll reflect on those halcyon days and my good friend Frank.
