Speaking Frankly
I have known Frank now for every bit of thirty years. We met by virtue of being next door to each other in condos in a small twelve-unit place called Ontario Lodge on the northern side of the main Deer Valley Mountain, looking down onto Guardsman’s Pass and the old silver mine that was the raison d’et for Park City’s existence. As was emblematic of the two of us, Frank had been there some six years and had organized the purchase of the entire complex in 1986 after the tax law change had made investment properties hard to justify and this project had gone into receivership in that bad moment. He had gathered some friends to buy it and had kept the best unit for himself. His cost basis in his unit was very close to zero. This was how Frank rolled. He is and was the smartest guy in the room and showed why he bore the deserved accolade of being a Marshall Scholar like some of the other intellectual elite of the country. By contrast, I bought my unit in a down-market moment probably because it’s unusual location on the north slope and fort of in the notch of the mountain seemed to make it seem like a value and it’s name attracted me since I was doing a career “adjusting” stint in Toronto…the main city of the Province of Ontario. That randomness was how I rolled.
Frank and I bonded right away. He is fifteen years my senior and a true icon of finance with a specific bent towards private equity. I was a relative high-flyer in mid-career on Wall Street who was probably in search for a mentor for the next stage of my career (though I may not have known it). Frank was then about fifteen years younger than I am now. We have spent the last three decades being good friends and investing in various things together. I introduced and prompted his marriage to his now wife, having been asked by his dear ex-wife to “take care of Frank” a week before she passed away at too young of an age (seven years younger than I am now). He became my private equity guru and is still, at age 85, my role model.
Yesterday I spent quality time with Frank in a 90 degree pool that might have been a hot tub in disguise. The man is always thinking. Later at dinner , out of nowhere, he said his German pal has a wood sourcing problem. Frank suddenly wants to go to Paraguay to sort it out for him. Fucking Paraguay! This is the reason I love Frank.