My walker friend Frank Holwerda comes to mind first. We met on a trail that runs in our backyards on a sunny summer day.

Frank was 90 and eager to talk about his life including the Korean War and growing up on the West side of Grand Rapids.

I’m a good listener and wanted to write up his story for The Lowell Ledger. We even did an interview on the trail.

How many 90 year olds walk on the trail every day?

By the time we met again, Frank changed his mind about the story. But we kept talking while Frank would often cry.

“You’re the only one who finds the time to listen to me. “

He laughed at the fact that he had no middle name coming from the Netherlands.

“Neither do I,” I smiled that we had another thing in common.

The trail was our common denominator for five days of the week, and for every season except for winter.

Frank Holwerda on the trail.

To be continued..

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