Flying With Frankie

I'm about to lose my wife and I don't want to lose my son, too.

That depressing thought kept racing through my mind all day long, as my five year old boy, Frankie, and I were enjoying our first day ever at an amusement park in 1994. My marriage was shot and beyond repair; and I now faced many a parent's dread: what effect would the divorce have on my son, and how will I maintain any semblance of a normal rapport with him? The answer, miraculously was only hours away.

Right before exiting the immense park for the evening, my rambunctious boy somehow lured me onto the thrill arena's big roller coaster for a ride. That solitary coaster journey hooked us up for life to the joys of gallivanting upon these flying machines, and for the next fifteen summers that's basically all we did.

We ultimately shared over 300 days together in amusement parks, as we traveled 40,000 miles by car, plane, and sleeper-car train to every thrill park in the country that housed anything close to resembling a roller coaster.

The divorce came soon enough, and inflicted its normal dose of hardship and despair. But it proved to be no match for the wonderful memories that accompanied all of our trips, and the steadfast bond that grew between us, merely in pursuit of our beloved joyrides.

Flying With Frankie is our story.

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