I found Frank dead. His body lay in the utility chase of a basement in a house on Saint Paul

Street. From the doorway of the chase, which is like a tunnel or a trench, the upper half of the

body was visible at the corner where the east corridor meets the south. He was shirtless, both

arms bent at the elbows, forearms rising vertically, the hands hanging inward from the wrist.

His skin, face, arms, torso were uniformly pale. His eyes were open. On the sill of the

basement window, directly above Frank's body, there was a teaspoon containing a beige

colored residue. There was a brown disposable lighter, and the red end cap from a disposable

syringe.

The body was carried out in a bag. It was routine for the seven men gathered in the

basement. To me it all seemed a kind of obscenity.

Frank was the eldest child of a large family. As a young man he'd spent almost two years in Viet

Nam as an army "grunt". He returned home addicted to the edge. He had become familiar with

the territory approaching the limits of sensation. I wondered if Frank realized at the end, that

he'd finally gone too far.

Mass for Frank was held at the Sacred Heart Church in Glyndon, Maryland. His bodies ashes

were present in a small wooden box. The officiate delivered the formula appropriate to such

occasions, his voice strong and confident. He assured us Frank was not really gone, he had

merely been transformed.

Frank's family sat, knelt, stood in the right front pews facing the altar and the voice of the

young man of God. Some of them were dressed as though they had interrupted outdoor

games or yard work in order to attend. Frank's mother had seen to the burial of her husband

just one year ago. Now she was sitting here. The pain and her struggle against it evident on her

face.

Later, we stood outside the chapel of the Veteran's Cemetery on Garrison Forest Road. We

would be unable to attend the grave site because the ground was saturated from the frequent

rains. We talked among ourselves, occasionally mentioning Frank, mostly talking of other

things. After awhile people drifted toward their cars. It was still afternoon, and the sun was

shining.