The Clark Kent that didn't fly.

Superman he wasn't. But his mind could fly. He was a rough hewn, wild man who lived in West Virginia. He had an auto wrecking yard where cars would give of their last to keep other cars alive. Very, very smart but still took chances, lived and played hard. You could say he never grew up. One day he was burned badly and went to a hospital's burn ward. From what I could gather, he was burning out old cars before they were to be crushed. He was too close to one, and up he went. Something like seventy five percent of his skin was gone.

Frank was 43. Last week he decided enough was enough and asked to be taken off life support. At that point, his kidneys had shut down and he had been through pneumonia. So, at four in the morning on the third day of February in the year of Anno Domini 2007, he went to a far country where we will all go.

He was extremely bright. Bright people can get very bored. This can be dangerous. Sometimes fatal.