Franklin Leslie Aker (27JUL50 - 09JUL94)

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A Brother Remembers

On Saturday, July 9, 1994, I received the call from my youngest brother, Andrew, in St. Louis, MO, that our brother, Frank, had died.  Our Mom was visiting me, in Gaithersburg, MD, and I didn't have the heart to tell her, so I just handed her the phone. I watched her face as she heard the tragic news and her expression turn to sadness. After she hung the phone up we just held each other and started to cry.

 

I first met Frank in the summer of 1950; we were separated by only 22 months. As his big brother it was my job to teach him the ropes of being a little brother. Frank was very quick at picking up language and when he was told that I was his "brother," he replied "Bubba." When I told him his name was "Frank" he gave me a thoughtful glance, smiled, and responded with "Goo Goo." Throughout our lives these expressions became our family nicknames. They were shortened to "Bub" and "Goog," and even as we got older we continued to use them.

 

Since we were so close in age we spent a great deal of time together and our relationship grew very strong. We often disagreed about things of monumental importance. Who was a better shot Davy Crockett or Lucas "Rifleman" McCain? Later, it was which music group was better, The Beatles, or the Dave Clark Five. Eventually, it was which motorcycle was faster, BMW, or Yamaha; and which camera lens was sharper, Leica, or Canon.  Despite our differences of opinion we remained close friends.  I can still remember his first favorite record, "The Ballad of Davy Crockett" by Bill Hayes.   As kids in the 1950s, we had the 45-rpm record, and Frank played it until it was literally worn out.  

 

His favorite musical was "West Side Story."  He was given a copy of the sound track in the mid 1960s.  Due to the supposedly racy language of a couple of the songs Frank would play them repeatedly.  This despite our Mom's obvious discomfort with what she thought they were saying.  Eventually we acquainted her with the actual lyrics and only then did she actually enjoy the music.  He could be quite the rascal.

 

After graduation from Einstein High School in Kensington, MD, class of 1968, Frank attended Webster College in St. Louis where he studied fine arts and photography. He worked for the Washington University Medical Center in St. Louis for many years, where he did surgical and electron microscope photography. Frank was employed at K&S Photo Labs as a photographer and graphics designer when he died.

 

Frank collected and restored old clocks, Leica cameras and European motorcycles. He designed and built custom audio speaker cabinets. He played classical guitar and enjoyed translating popular phrases into Latin. Frank always enjoyed the time spent with family, friends and especially his many nieces and nephew. He was a true Renaissance man.

 

Many of my favorite memories of Frank are those associated with motorcycles. I can remember the many times we would ride to visit friends in Takoma Park or at Mount Carmel, near Sugarloaf Mountain in Maryland. Frank on his trusty BMW and me on my Yamaha. In the early 1970s, Route 28 north was considerably less traveled and the speed limit was not regularly enforced. I recall a time when we were both cruising at over 100mph on a long straight, side by side and neither bike able to pass the other. As we slowed for a turn, Frank swept by me on the inside and I couldn't catch him for almost a mile.

 

Frank loved to ride long distance and rode from St. Louis, MO to Kensington, MD often.  It was an 18-hour ride and Frank did it in one sitting, stopping only for food and fuel.  The only time he ever had to give up was when he got caught in a snowstorm.

 

I visited Frank often in St. Louis. In 1975, I was on my way to Colorado, with a friend, to spend some time near Aspen.  I found Frank's house, but no one was home.  We were exhausted, so we dragged out our sleeping bags and went to sleep in his back yard.  Frank came home from work and awoke me with a bear hug.  He was as glad to see me as I was also to see him.  That was the only time I can recall visiting him in St. Louis when we didn't go motorcycle riding.  Frank had a nice collection of street bikes.  His collection consisted of several vintage BMWs, a BSA, and a Moto Guzzi.

 

During the early 1980s, I lived on Cape Hatteras Island, NC. Frank had recently married and talked his bride into going on their honeymoon on his BMW. They started in New York and rode to St. Louis, and then to Miami. On their way back to New York, they took the ferry from Swan Quarter, NC to Cape Hatteras and visited with me for a few days. Frank's new wife held up pretty well and Frank was in his glory. Sadly, they divorced a few years later.

 

Ironically, Frank was killed while photographing a restored Moto Guzzi motorcycle for a friend.  I phoned him the day before his death just to chat, he said he was running late for a luncheon with his lady.  All he had time to say was that he would talk to me later.  Later never came.  He was my first friend, my best friend, and I miss him greatly.

Franks Picture Page