FRANK AND HECTOR (names have been changed): AN UNEXPECTED REACTION
Death is a huge topic. No one scenario is definitive. There are hundreds, thousands, millions of stories. This is only one of them.
This is a story about Frank and Hector, and it took place about 5 years ago.
Frank and Hector were co-workers of mine; we worked in a large law firm. I worked in Word Processing, and they worked in a related department, Duplicating.
Here’s how it worked: lawyers would bring documents in to us, for typing or formatting, editing, etc. Word, PowerPoint, Excel. Then if they just wanted a document Xeroxed 50 times, they would bring it to Duplicating.
Or sometimes, we would do some Word Processing on a document to get it clean, then bring it to Duplicating to be finished up.
Also, Duplicating kept the Supplies for both departments. So we would call over to them and they would bring us supplies, or we would go over to pick them up off the shelves.
The point is, there was a lot of back and forth between the departments, and we got to know the guys quite well.
Frank and Hector were two really friendly guys and they were about 40, very fit and athletic, and full of energy and enthusiasm. You always knew when they entered the room, because they brought so much positive energy.
There was a different vibe in the 2 departments: Word Processing was more white collar, and Duplicating was more blue collar. They were allowed music, and they always had a radio going — usually rhythm and blues or light rock. We weren’t allowed music, even on headphones — it was said to be “unprofessional.” (That’s a topic for a different discussion!)
Anyway, because of the music in Duplicating, there was a little more convivial atmosphere, and Frank and Hector became really good friends.
They both had very distinctive voices:
Frank had a loud, booming voice and laugh — everything he said had an implied back slap. He would say,
“ALAN, WHAT’S IT GONNA BE? WHAT DO YOU NEED?”
— 10 copies, double-sided and stapled.”
“GREAT! I’LL HAVE THAT FOR YOU IN A JIFFY!
(DAVE, YOU WANNA GET THOSE?)
SO AL-AN, HOW WAS YOUR WEEKEND?”
And I’d say, “Pretty good, how was yours?”
He’d answer, “OH OF COURSE YESTERDAY WAS SUNDAY SCHOOL! ALWAYS DO THAT!”
And I’d say, “Oh, you still do Sunday School?”
and he’d boom “Yeah, always a lot to learn! Always a lot to learn! Plus now I teach the little kids. AND I MENTOR THEM, TRY TO BRING THEM UP THE RIGHT WAY.”
So Frank was deeply religious. One time I suggested that Duplicating put in a little cocktail bar so people, as they waited for their documents, could take a sip.
“OH VERY FUNNY ALAN! OF COURSE I NEVER TOUCH THE STUFF MYSELF!”
On the other hand, Hector, I’m pretty sure, imbibed. And he smoked. He would take smoking breaks outside. And Frank would join him, though he didn’t smoke. A perk of being Manager. They were really good friends, and they actually spent a lot of time together outside the office as well.
Hector also had a very distinctive voice: high-pitched, fast, always talking, and then laughing at what he said:
“Yeah Yeah I’ll get that for ya! Ha ha ha ha ha! I’ll get it right now ha ha ha!”
And he really loved Superhero movies, so he’d say “Hey Alan did you see the new Batman movie ha ha ha ha ha Oh it’s great ha ha you should see it ha ha!”
So they were great, fit guys, in the prime of life. I don’t think I ever heard them complain about anything, they were always smiling.
Then one day we came in to work on a Monday. We were at our desks, ready to work. And someone said, “Did you hear Frank died over the weekend?”
We said, “Frank … Frank, what, Frank in Duplicating? No, it can’t be! He’s what, 40?”
It turned out he had Type 1 diabetes, had it most of his life. And he was sick a lot, though I never saw any evidence of it.
And over the weekend, Frank just collapsed, and there was nobody to help out, and that was it.
So we were all shocked, it was inconceivable. But eventually they announced there would be a funeral a week later, and they made it possible for us to leave the office to go, an hour and a half each way.
So I went, and there were lots of people. Frank’s church group had about 100 people in a separate room, and then the work people and friends and relatives were in another room, and the rooms were adjoined. They pulled out the dividing wall.
In front, Frank was in a casket. And there was a guy playing organ, these mournful chords. And 2 singers, and they were singing words like,
“Jesus … take him! Jesus … he is yours!”
For me the waterworks started and it was like Niagara Falls from my eyes all night, I’m not ashamed to admit it.
And one by one, people came out to eulogize Frank. His Mom and Dad went separately, his siblings, his childhood babysitter (who remembered
Frank as an ideal kid despite his hardships).
His Mom said something like, “I visited Frank in the hospital and he said — Mommy! Why is this happening to me? — And I had no answers. I don’t know, baby.”
And it was all so, so sad, and the waterworks continued! And there’s nothing wrong with that, it was very cathartic. But still it was just so sad!
…
And then Hector got up and spoke. And it was a COMPLETELY different approach. It was ALL jokes, ALL funny stories about Frank and their misadventures together —
“We were driving to a nightclub, and the GPS broke down, and we got lost. And Frank said we should go south. So we did, and we got even MORE lost! We ended up in the next town over. And then we got a flat tire. Frank said ‘Maybe I should pray.’ And I said ‘Prayer is good. But I sure hope the GPS starts working again ha ha ha…’”
So it was all very funny. And it went over EXTREMELY WELL! Everyone laughed and it was such a relief to the atmosphere in there. Both approaches are valid, but it was a great mood-lift!
Afterwards, I ran into Hector in the men’s room, and I said “Hector, that was such an interesting approach you took out there.”
And he said, “Yeah that’s all I could do ha ha ha all I could do was remember the funny times that’s all I could do ha ha ha all I could do was be myself!”
* * *
So I just thought it was really interesting – that there could be 2 such different ways to remember someone, both equally valid.
— Alan Taylor
