Frank was the subject of the favorite series I ever wrote, a series that produced an amazing outpouring of praise for Frank from hundreds of readers. But more than that, Frank became a very dear friend -- in his humble way, a sort of father figure. Those who know me best will understand why I grieve.
I saw Frank for the last time on Tuesday, when I visited him after learning he was gravely ill. He had been very sick on occasions before, but I knew seeing him that he was tired, and ready to go, and at peace with that. I sat by his bed and we talked for a few minutes, just a few spare words. Frank kept saying "OK" and "good." Then he smiled, that great Frank smile, and drifted back to sleep. I touched him and said goodbye. And then I went back to The Providence Journal and wrote his obituary, which will be in tomorrow's edition.
|Frank in 2006, with my granddaughter, Isabella.|