Fulfilling Frank’s dream
By Ruth Schenk | .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)
Angela Spitzer, 65, never had a house of her own.
Last New Year’s Eve, Angela’s husband, Frank, died suddenly after a mysterious, brief illness. By then, none of their shared dreams mattered much, but there was one dream Angela didn’t quite know how to handle.
For the last seven years, Frank had been refurbishing the 1930s bungalow in Jeffersontown where he grew up. Working in his spare time after work at Southeast with the technical team, it had taken years to completely gut the inside of the house. Angela had no idea what to do with the empty shell. She couldn’t live in it or sell it.
The plain white clapboard house on a quiet street is not fancy. But to Frank, it was home. His goal was to make it brand new for Angela. Everything had to be redone: the plumbing, electrical, drywall, kitchen and bathrooms.
The project was far from finished when friends gathered in the intensive care unit at the hospital last New Year’s Eve to say goodbye to the quiet, kind man who took the time to train and encourage others. Angela mentioned that she had never paid the bills; and she had no idea what to do with the house.
Friends and family decided then to finish the house for Angela.
Frank’s death was a major life blow. He had only been sick a few days with what doctors believed to be a sinus infection.
When he didn’t get better with antibiotics, Angela rushed him to the hospital where he died the next day.
No one knew exactly why it happened. What they did know was that Frank left behind a house that needed to be renovated and they were motivated to preserve his legacy by fixing it up. The project ramped up as soon as the weather cooperated.
The house has come together one piece at a time with the help of volunteers from the worship team, a small group of friends and Angela’s family.
Deniece Loyd has been the contractor for the project, pinching pennies, finding people to do drywall, put in electricity and plumbing. She scouted for best buys on kitchen cabinets and carpet, paint and appliances.
Teams volunteered as work schedules allowed, often into the night.
Brian Roggow, who worked closely with Frank at Southeast, said working on the house was fun.
“Frank was always reluctant to ask for help,” Roggow said. “Sometimes I’d go by when I knew he was working on the house, but he never asked. Working on this for Angie has been fun.”
Angela watched the project unfold. No one has ever done anything like this for her before. While it is at times overwhelming, it also is exciting.
She will move in by Christmas. These days, Angela is packing boxes and sorting through Christmas decorations.
“I can’t wait to see what it will look like,” she said. “There are not enough words or paper to thank everyone. I never would have been able to do this on my own. I wouldn’t have known how or had the resources to finish it. I don’t even know all the people who worked on it. Whenever I go to see what is done, I say the angels have been
there.”
Loyd’s e-mails asking for volunteers are titled, “Merry Christmas, Angie.”
It’s been a year of hard firsts. The first birthdays without Frank. The first Christmas and anniversary.
“For a while, I would say over and over how much I miss Frank,” Angela said. “But now I know better. Frank is where Jesus wants him to be. It’s Jesus I need. I know I’m not alone. God is using all this to draw me closer to Him. I don’t need Frank. I need God.”
Southeast Lead Team Member Greg Allen said Frank was always an artist.
“Before Frank joined our staff, he was the foreman for a drywall company,” Allen said. “He viewed his drywall job as being a drywall artist. He spent many hours helping me finish my basement. I can attest to the fact that he did beautiful work. He didn’t talk much. He just showed up, went to the basement, did his artistry and went
home. That sums up the life of Frank to me. He never drew attention to himself. He just did his job, did it beautifully and went home."
Allen said Frank was loved by everyone who worked with him.
“I loved Frank dearly,” he said. “I always called him my ‘Frankie Bro.’ He is missed, but Frank knows what I don’t—he knows what Jesus looks like.”