The Dos Equis guy might be called “the most interesting man in the world” but to me, Frank Bechler held that title.
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This weekend is special for me.
December 10, 1943 was my dad’s birthday.
Even though he is no longer here physically, not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. His impact on me has been what you’d hope a dad’s impact would be.
Many of you have read “The Bus Trip” or “The Captain”. Mr. Frank, the bus driver, is a recurring character who pops up periodically providing wisdom and a story at just the right time.
This popular fictional character is based on my dad. The real Mr. Frank might not have had a story for every occasion that included NFL players, historical figures, or even mythical folklore, but the Mr. Frank I knew always had a humorous or impactful story from his life that seemed to be just perfect for the occasion.
My dad’s career path took him from working at John Deere to deputy sheriff to truck driver to college maintenance man.
He also served for 30 years as a volunteer firefighter. The phone would ring in the middle of the night and the fire captain would spring to action and go help people. I was proud of him.
“The Politician” as he was known on the CB radio when he drove 18-wheelers was re-elected numerous times in local political races. He won over Republican and Democratic voters alike.
Speaking of 18-wheelers, my son loves Smoky and the Bandit because Grandpa Frank let him watch it when he was young. That makes sense because my dad would take me along with him on some runs when I was young. He’d even let me get on the CB and find out from the other truckers where the speed traps were. In the days before Chick-fil-A, In-and-Out Burger, and Whataburger, the best meals I ever had were with my dad at those greasy, dirty, and very friendly out-of-the-way truck stops.
My dad was never much of a student. In fact, one of his teachers once said, “Frank don’t you have a twin sister that graduated last year?” Ouch!Despite his lack of academic prowess, he was one of the smartest people I ever knew. He seemed to know everything that mattered in life. He could fix anything. He could sell anything. He could bargain with anyone. He wasn’t book smart but he was street smart. Eventually, Mr. Frank even went back and earned his associate’s degree when he was in his 60s.
Mr. Frank motivated me with his work ethic.
He would get up before the roosters to drive his 18-wheeler to parts unknown. The home on the 50-acres I grew up on was built by him and my mom. He plowed neighbors’ driveways after snowfalls without taking payment. He not only worked hard but was extremely unselfish. Even as a local politician, he was always finding ways to make things better for the community. He was beloved, which resulted in a massive line outside the funeral home, a portion of US-12 getting shut down for his funeral procession, and eventually a property that was full of people and vehicles when we had the family auction after his passing.
Speaking of people wanting his stuff, he had a lot of cool things.
Some people own vintage cars or other collectibles, well my dad collected John Deere tractors and fire stuff. At one point, he owned eight antique fire trucks. We raised Dalmatians and together with the fire trucks, made regular appearances at parades. We even had a team (the Moscow Muster Busters) that competed in firefighting skills contests. My dad was always the quickest at driving a truck to a pretend fire and getting the water from the hydrant through the truck so that it shot out of the hose. In fact, we won the event at the national muster at Greenfield Village in 1984. Mr. Frank made customized John Deere lawnmowers that were also regular star attractions in parades. One of those tractors looked like a fire truck, complete with a siren and the ability to spray water. His tractors were featured in a national publication and the Facebook video of that John Deere fire truck has more than 2 million views.
Frank Bechler never met a stranger, or if he did, they didn’t remain a stranger for very long. He had a heart for people and was genuinely curious. People liked being around him.
Perhaps the most important part of his life was his bride.
Beth Bechler was the love of his life. There was an eight-year age difference between the two of them. My brother Corey and I would make jokes about that growing up (because that is what punk teenagers do). We would always ask them how mad Grandpa got when dad asked if he could take Grandpa’s 4th grader to the senior prom. (Disclaimer: they met when my mom was in college but why let the truth get in the way of a teenager’s joke?)
Like most coupled Frank and Beth were not perfect but that made it better. We saw them apologize to each other. We witnessed them working through things. To this day, I can still vividly remember my dad calling my mom “good-looking”. He adored my mom and that has stuck with me through all the years. He also adored his grandkids. Just like any good self-respecting grandpa, he did his best to spoil them. He didn’t grow up with much. In fact, his father immigrated to America, arriving at Ellis Island after a long trip from Germany in the early 1900s. He also wanted to give his two sons and grandkids more than he had, if possible. That was who he was. He wanted to leave the world a little bit better than he found it.
I could go on and on and on with more stories, but this isn’t a therapy session. You might know Mr. Frank as the beloved fictional character in my books but I wanted to give you some insights into what the real-life Mr. Frank meant to me. He is a recurring character in my books for a reason. I would not be the leader, husband, father, or man that I am without his example and impact. I say all of this despite knowing that I could have been an only child and still wouldn’t have been his favorite. Just kidding, dad! But I had to say that before my brother said.
I love you dad.
Happy birthday.