When I think of my oldest brother Frank on his birthday, I miss him in a lot of ways. I miss his big smile and the friendly way he always greeted people. I miss him singing bass with Marcella’s alto in the row right behind me at Mt. Olive church. I miss the days when he and Ernest would play baseball with the children at our reunions. I miss Sunday nights at his house when all of us would watch “Bonanza” or “Hee Haw,” just relaxing and laughing, drinking pop, eating popcorn, or some times, snow cream. And when Frank and Marcella were about to leave after our reunions, maybe you remember how he would say, “You better come and go with us.” I miss that, too.
Like Ernest, Frank was willing to help others even though he was a busy man every day. I could give many examples of Frank helping me. This little story is about only one situation. There were dozens more.
When my children were still very young, Bill was away overseas for six months in the US Navy two winters in a row (1961-1963). I had little money, so I really needed a job and a way to get to work. Frank and Marcella invited me to live with them so Marcella could take care of Mark and Kim during the day, and I could teach school.
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