Frank Kendall has joined his ancestors.
Frank was born in 1936, living his entire life in the area. Frank was well known. At 17, he and his mother began raising Toy Fox Terriers to sell. For 70 years, Frank raised Australian and German Shepherds, Beagles, or other breeds. There are dozens of customers around today who bought dogs from Frank.
Frank was no saint. He was loud and crude. He would initiate an argument with someone just so he could argue. He liked to yell, holler, and swear.
Whatever Frank was, he was a Vermonter. As coarse as 60 grit sandpaper, Frank was the last of his type of Vermonter. No, we didn’t all grow up the same way, or with the same morals or ethics, but we did grow up together. Frank grew up under the influence of early 20th century parents and grandparents, in a very rural and isolated Baltimore, Vt. This is not an excuse, but more of an explanation why he was the way he was.
For those of us who grew up here, Frank’s behavior wasn’t unfamiliar. We went to school with kids like Frank. Some of these remote farm kids were different. It doesn’t make them bad.
Frank had his good points. Kim told me when he was laid up in a hospital in Virginia, Frank had a raffle to raise money to outfit Kim’s first handicap car. He said it was $800 or more – no small amount of money in 1970.
It’s easy for newcomers to Vermont to dismiss someone with a thick Vermont drawl as ignorant. Frank certainly had a heavy drawl, but he wasn’t stupid. He needed to be the center of attention wherever he went. This could and did cause problems in the family.
Sometimes he angered his cousins. They didn’t always approve his ways, but “he’s family,” they would say. Never have I experienced this feeling of family.
Kim’s father was Nelson. Frank’s father was Slayton and brother to Nelson. Lee Kendall told me his father, Nelson, once said, “Slayton and I both married educated women to improve Kendall stock.”
Kendall’s Barn
Many will remember Kendall’s Barn with all the signs on the barns. For 30 years or more, Kendall’s Barn was a busy place. Tourists and locals loved this place.
Kim ran the business. Frank traveled around looking for yard sales or an auction to buy antiques or stuff. I remember Frank sitting in the front row under a tent at Bob Farnsworth auctions. Sometimes, if the stuff was going cheap, Frank would be surrounded with piles of stuff he’d bought. He always had a helper with him. If you had a yard sale, you probably met Frank.
Frank’s mother, Alice, was a school teacher. Alice did have an influence on Frank, as you can see in this handwritten poem by Frank. Subtle as it may be, Alice speaks to us.
“New Hope
When I was just a little boy
Playing on the farm
I never thought of dying
or coming to any harm.
And then one day I realized
the happiness would end
I went running to my mother
my best and dearest friend.
I showed all my emotions
She soothed my worried brow
the very words she spoke
I don’t remember now
but
we talked about our dying day
and about the wordly strife
How glad I was to hear about
everlasting life.
I went back to playing
New happiness I found
It need not be the end
when they lay you in the ground
Later we talked about
how God will judge you fair,
and about the do’s and don’ts
that we might enter there.
And now when loved ones go beyond
I think some how we find
our sad heart do some weeping
because we’re left behind
Oh yes, I guess I’ve had my doubts
But never will forget
The kind words of my mother
And example she set.”
Again from my mother is another superstition she held: “It is bad luck to turn over a calendar before the new month begins.”