Frank Joseph Gifford

My first, closest and oldest friend died this week; yet I did not know him when he died.

We werent close at all, presently.

I can hardly remember my own home phone number; yet, I still remember his phone number from 40 years ago, before we used area codes. Still, I did not know him when he died.

Id only seen and talked to him once in the last ten years or so and Ill hold dear the chance we had just to say hello, even if it was at another close neighbors funeral.

Through a face that spoke the years of a man far more aged than he, his smile and laugh were like fingerprints. Unchanged, and the same as the 10 year old kid that I remembered. I doubt that I appeared any younger to him. We leaned in, shook hands, smiled and laughed; both uncomfortably lacking the words that really meant anything.

Again, I did not know him when he died.

He was the best friend I had until I was 1012 year old. We created matchbox race tracks in his mothers flowerbed, climbed our garage roof, played ice hockey on Lake St Clair after school, played whiffle ball in his backyard for hours on end, which turned into years on end,

We listened to the Dead, J. Geils, The Who, Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Sabbath, while our parents went to Neil Diamond concerts, at Pine Knob.

We would wait for his brother Rich or sister Liz to let us use his 8-track to listen to KISS Love Gun and Destroyer and Alive. A red tape player and a white tape. It would change sides right in the middle of a song (for those that remember 8-track). Hes the reason why Im the KISS fan that I am today. Wed cut guitars patterns out of plywood in his dads wood shop, put the KISS make-up on and hold concerts in our other friends garage for the neighbors at $0.25 or $0.50 per ticket.

Nerf basketball in the bedroom, bottle rocket fights, a stolen Playboy, attempted table tops with BMX bikes off the neighbors landscaping.

We spent too much time arguing over Free Press vs. Detroit News and Chevy Citation vs. Chevy Chevette and Chevy Impala wagon or Pontiac Safari wagon. He played for the Astros with the cool white uniforms with orange, red, yellow brown uniforms and I played for the Royals with the crummy powder blue uniforms. This was really what we worried about back then.

Wed loosely held onto a paper route with another friend and after wed collect the weekly dues, wed spend the money at the pizza shop playing Galaga and Centipede.

We drifted apart as we approached high school and spent very little time communicating since then.

Notwithstanding family, whats it mean to be the most important person in someones life, if only for a short time. Who knows? Because it was about 38 years ago, does that make it less meaningful than the people who are important to us today? It doesnt feel that way right now and hasnt felt that way since I heard of his passing earlier.

For that period in life, maybe when life is most simple and clear, Frank was my closest friend and the most important person in my world aside for family. He was that guy I road bikes with, played street hockey with, pretended to be KISS with, played matchbox with, trick-or-treated with, drank Mello-Yello with, played whiffle ball with.

Later in life , he was a skilled painter and an artist and people who knew him spoke well of him.

Rest In Peace my first and old friend, Frank. I hope to see you again one day.