With his gift of gab and a background in sales, Frank had no trouble approaching people and starting a chat with them. This of course served him well as a photographer. He always knew what to say to get his target(s) to relax and show a genuine smile. Of course, he took portraits of everyone, but he had an extra "je-ne-sais-quoi" in his attitude when he was dealing with a female model! It's one thing to do it at a wedding when guests are dressed up, expect their pictures to be taken and are happy for the occasion. It's an entirely different thing when the object of his photographic desire is totally unknown.

Frank always had something nice or funny (always appropriate) to say to break the ice with ladies he had never seen before, who wouldn't ever consider in their right mind having their photo taken by a total stranger approaching them with a large (and later, a bit smaller) indimidating camera. These seemingly random targets could be a waitress or a store manager, a lady walking her dog, another one taking a coffee break, yet another one waiting for a date, or a woman accompanied by a few kids whom he'd engage as well, especially if they were girls, probably thinking fondly about his own granddaughters. This has resulted in a stunning series of portraits where people look happy and genuinely smile. Frank would then routinely print those images and give a 4x6 copy to his subjects and they would invariably love it. He was having a good time doing it and he was brightening their day too.

Then Frank would stop by before or after lunch, and do the same kind of sweet talking to my dog, who adored him, after having met him at just a few months old.  Frank showered the same attention onto the cat. And this often ended up with a few pictures as well. And yes, both Belle the dog and KC the cat are female. A coincidence? I think not.

Frank had a lot of ladies in his life, especially in his family, and he loved them all. 

June and I are not close family friends. However, every year for about 20 years we have gathered with friends for a Christmas party and fun gift exchange at the Ferrees. Frank and Nancy have been part of the group. Frank was always a person of fascination in conversation and, yes, he took photos for years - unobtrusively, like a pro.

The gift game is one in which we take numbers to determine the order we choose a gift from the pile of gifts everyone brought - some very nice, some more for kicks. You can 'steal' a gift from someone else when it's your turn. Lots of humor! Frank played it well and was one of those with the cleverest comments.

 Most of all, Frank was a man I respected and that respect came easy - just knowing him added to our lives. June and I will miss him...and tonight is the annual Christmas party - it won't be the same without him.

"Uncle Frank" was a role model to me.  I met him on Silicon Investor where he nicknamed me "Doctor Id" (I'm a psychologist).  We met in San Diego at a meeting and became good friends.  We then had a gambling trip in Las Vegas where he and I roomed together (he brought me ear plugs as he said that I would need them...he was right).  I went up to San Jose to visit for a weekend and a UCLA Stanford game the following year (I smuggled Frank a little weed on the plane...not too smart soon after 9-11!).  We always had a great time and I always loved his stories and counsel. After we realized that we weren't so great with the stock picking, he got into digital photography (he mastered that much better than the stock market!).  He and Nancy met a few times down the coast of Santa Barbara on the way to visit their kids.  He was a very devoted father and husband and just a great man.  I know that Frank was a complicated guy and life with Frank was probably not always a "walk in the park" for his wife and family, but he had a lot of love for his family and friends that made him an amazing man.  I'm honored to have been his friend.

Shadow Brook friend and neighbor “Uncle Frank” certainly took on the honorary role of uncle for our daughter and son-in-law’s, Amanda and John’s, wedding in September, 2007.  In addition to Frank’s duties as photographer, he was their dance instructor, trusted advisor (they listened to him when they wouldn’t listen to us!), and even referred us to another, neighbor, Thea, for the wedding flowers.  His commitment to this event certainly exceeded photographic duties and our family appreciated his wisdom every step of the way.  He was such an important part of this special day in our lives and will not be forgotten!

April, 2016 will make 30 years since we moved into our house across the street from the Richardson family. Over the years we have made many walks across the street to visit with Frank and Nancy as they worked in the front yard.  Frank always had interesting information to share.  There was that period of time that he was was really into stock market and willing to share what he was learning.  After retiring he became an expert photographer with the patience of Job, capturing amazing close up photos of hummingbirds in his back yard,  We also learned how persistent he could be as it took us a long time to take him up on his offer to take our family photo. After a number of goofy shots that he wasn't too happy with, he finally got us to relax and captured the perfect shot that will always be our favorite. 

During the early years, we learned that we could drive Frank crazy if we put strobing Christmas lights on our roof. But we decided not to test his limits. And the 4th of July will never be the same without his hot dogs as we all gather in their front yard to watch the Bike Parade go by.

Frank, you are definitely missed but not forgotten.  Rest in peace. 

Some of my favorite childhood memories begin with the startling ring of an alarm clock in the early morning and a long quiet drive in the dark with Pops to San Francisco to go trolling (or mooching) for Salmon off the coast of the Farallon Islands.

On one particularly cold morning when I was 13 or 14 Pops kept us warm with a few swigs of Jameson's Whiskey while we waited on the dock for our charter boat to depart.  I liked the taste of Whiskey even less than the taste of fish but after a successful outing (I think we both reached limits) having a "Wee Jamey" together in the morning before a day at sea, and again as we passed under the Golden Gate Bridge, became a cherished "Richardson men" tradition that was required to appease the fish gods and ensure good fortune on the water.

It wasn't until 20+ years later that I overcame my distaste for fish but I never passed on a chance to head out on the water with Pops; in San Francisco, Santa Cruz, Bodega Bay or in a flimsy rubber raft named the “Fish Hunter” chasing inedible “Croppie” in Lake Calero near our home in Almaden Valley.

I plan to continue the Richardson fishing tradition with our girls (unfortunately likely without Kristy since she gets terribly sea sick), but I’ll probably wait until they're a little older to introduce them to Irish Whiskey. ;-)

Raise a glass of Jameson’s to Pops (and to the fish gods) for family, fortune on the water, and safe returns.

I have so many memories when I think of dad -- from how utterly embarrassing he was to me as a teenager (and sometimes even as a 30-something), to how I took it for granted that he would be at all my soccer, swimming, field hockey, etc etc games, to how Colby and I tricked him into buying us stuff when mom went on those very rare trips away alone. 

But most of my vivid memories right now are of dad as PopPop.  He was a damn good grandpa.  He was a big kid at heart and they sensed that.  He liked to PLAY with them, sing to them, snuggle with them, spoil them with too much sugar.  :-)

This past weekend when we got hom to Seattle we had a "let's celebrate PopPop" day with the girls.  What did this mean to them?  Well, we had Pho and Honeycrisp apples for dinner, then snuggled in with a movie as we snacked on Whoppers.  On Sunday, we cut down a Christmas tree (no lot trees for PopPop and Nanna!), and hung bells on it (PopPop used them the last month or two so he couldn't sneak around!).  And we talked about the invisible string that will always connect the girls to PopPop, even in heaven.

Eskimo kisses to you, dad.