He’s been gone a long time, now. Taken from his family by cancer. But I see echoes of him every time Carole and I visit her mom. He built the house her mom lives in. Back in the 1960s. And when I say “he built it”, I mean that. He even dug the foundation himself. Yeah.With a pick and shovel.
But what makes me think of Frank every time I go over there is the yard and the landscaping. He did all that himself, too. He had the forethought to purchase two lots so that he’d have much room and a place for his kickass garden. No matter how tired Frank would be when he got home from his job as an electrical engineer for Duke Power, he would work in his garden. And when that was done, he’d tinker with the trees and flower beds that make that yard a very special place in the Spring.
So, here’s to Frank Henderson. I think of him whenever I see the house he built and the yard he landscaped and planted.
|Every Spring is a treasure for the eyes.|
|The front of the house. I rarely take any photos of the front yard. But there it is.|
|The grassy area in front of the dogwoods and azalea bed was where Frank had his garden. He could have fed an army with the fruits and vegetables he grew there.|