On May 14th, 1998, I was at Beach Week in Duck, North Carolina, following my second year of college. Some friends and I had rented a house, and we had just watched the final episode of Seinfeld when the news about Frank come on the TV. The Voice was gone.
He had faults and flaws and a temper. Mob connections? Strained relationships. But the man could wear a hat and snap his fingers and croon a tune like no other.
And when I hear The Voice - anytime I hear The Voice - I smile.
Here's to you, Frankie - irreplaceable, irascible, incandescent you. Thanks for leaving behind the soundtrack to my smiles.
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