Preface
I first met the guy who would (largely) become the Frank character in the fall of 1979 in east Charlotte. He showed up in front of our house on Powder Horn Road in the Idlewild Farms subdivision. He was jumping off a plywood ramp on his bicycle with wild abandon and popping long wheelies.
He was fourteen and I was fifteen. He was cool but not arrogant – a most amicable guy. It wasn’t long before he, my brother Joe, new friends, John and Tom (brothers), and I were exploring the densely and deeply wooded areas surrounding the newly completed neighborhood. It was a great place in which to be a teenager back then. Today most of the then-forested areas are apartment complexes.
This Frank guy loved adventure. High adventure was to become character Frank’s forte. His breakfast bowl was green. Boy, he sure loved his weed (as it stopped his epileptic seizures). But unlike so many teenage stoners, he was never listless or lazy; in fact, he seemed to have a higher energy level than any of us. He was the first to climb a young pine tree (until it bent over). The first to drop his bike into a deep-bowl clearing. The first to make an amazing discovery.
Once we had wheels and drivers licenses, we ventured out farther. Crowders Mountain. Kings Mountain. Pisgah National Forest. The Uwharrie Mountains. But our favorite was always Morrow Mountain State Park, only an hour east.
When he called during a college break and asked if I wanted to go ‘to Morrow tomorrow’ … well, I was in. All in. In for it.