Fast forward to June 24, 1989, Presbyterian Church, Westville. Frank went in the church door a 49-year-old bachelor and came out a married man, husband, father, grandfather and great-grandfather, all because of two little words, “I do,” and he has. The man deserves a medal or to be named in the “Guinness Book of World Records.”
Since then, he has become a U.S. citizen, worked in the meat department at Price Chopper in Malone, retired and swapped darts for bowling, of which he is very dedicated and skilled. He and Mum built a house in Westville, and Frank has become a very settled in, content American. He says he has no desire to go back to England because it’s not the England he grew up in.
He has also become a dyed-in-the-wool Yank, nicknamed “Frank the Yank.” That name also lends itself to his other pastime, cheering on the Yankees. My niece, Lesley-Anne, and her husband, Joe, gave Frank a Christmas gift of tickets to a Yankees game this summer. Just mention the event and his face lights up, he rubs his hands together, and his smile cannot be matched.
While nobody can ever replace my dad, I wouldn’t want anybody else to be part of our lives than Frank William Goddard. He has cried with us when my nephew, Kurt, was killed in a car accident, celebrated with us at weddings and birthday parties, been there to love us in all situations and to lend a hand. He recently added great-great-grandfather to his list of titles and dotes over the new babies. He deserves “Happy Father’s Day” greetings for filling the gap for nearly 24 years.
I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you he also does dishes and peels potatoes in addition to all the “guy” jobs. I think we’ll keep him. Love you, Frank and “Granddad.” Thanks for always being there.