Posts Tagged ‘Callaway Gardens’

How I Will Remember Frank Bullard

November 18, 2008

  When someone passes away, we always think about our experience with them. It brings home that each of us is a different person to different people. My son, stepsons, and grandchildren certainly view me differently than, say, a person who watched me every night on TV. The opinions of my children and grandchildren – I have a son, four stepsons, and five grandchildren – of course, trump anyone else’s. Fortunately, I know that our love and respect is mutual.

  People who worked for me when I was a news director at WRBL-TV, no doubt, have a different opinion. Depending on their experience with me, they liked and respected me, or didn’t. Fortunately, some have come back to Columbus after they made good in other, larger markets to thank me for giving them their first break in TV, and for what they learned from me. That sort of balances the ones who thought I was a perfectionist martinet and other things that I won’t mention in polite company.  

  This brings me to the death of Frank Bullard, former executive with Bill Heard Chevrolet.  My experience with Frank was all good. I got to know him through Crime Stoppers.  He was an ardent supporter, being on the board of directors. I wrote, produced and narrated the feature from the time it started on WTVM in 1986 until I retired in 2000. He was one of those guys who just made you feel good every time you were around him. His twinkling-eyes and warm smile had the effect of putting you in a good mood no matter how rotten the day had been before you saw him.  When I retired, knowing that my late wife Melba and I liked ballroom dancing, he had the board of directors give us tickets to the New Year’s Eve Ball at Callaway Gardens – which aint’ cheap – and a room at the Inn so I could have a couple of glasses of wine at the dance and not worry about driving home. That was the kind of creative, thoughtful person he was, in my experience.

  The last time I saw him was a few months ago at a Columbus Jazz Society jam session. I knew that he was terminally ill, but it wasn’t because of the way he acted. The warm smile and the twinkling eyes were there when we said hello. That’s the way I’ll remember Frank.

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