SILVERTONAPPEAL.COM
|
WEDNESDAY, MARCH 23, 2022
|
3B
Community mourns the death of an icon
The king of chocolate cake
Capi Lynn
Salem Statesman Journal | USA TODAY NETWORK
Gerry Frank, Salem’s most famous cit-
izen and more connected to the business,
political and civic roots of this communi-
ty than anyone before him, died Sunday
morning. He was 98.
Everyone knew Frank. If you didn’t,
you should have.
He was a businessman, an author, a
philanthropist and a champion of all
things Salem and Oregon. He helped
raise more than a half billion dollars for
various civic projects and nonprofit or-
ganizations. That’s half a billion, with a B.
“He’s probably touched every person
in this community with his generosity,”
Barry Nelson of the Rotary Club of Salem
once said.
Frank was involved with so many ac-
tivities and organizations there’s never
been enough space to list them in all the
times the Statesman Journal has written
about him, ranging from the American
Cancer Society to the World War II Me-
morial.
He was a World War II veteran and a
Cambridge University graduate.
He was a fourth-generation Orego-
nian whose family founded the retail
chain Meier & Frank. He spearheaded the
opening of its first branch store in Salem
in 1955, which is what brought him to this
community.
Frank became a fixture of Oregon poli-
tics, as U.S. Sen. Mark Hatfield’s right-
hand man.
He later became the sole judge of a
chocolate cake contest at the Oregon
State Fair and the co-founder of a gour-
met cake shop and restaurant. He also
was the author of guidebooks for New
York and Oregon.
As proud as he was of all that, it was
his work in the trenches of this commu-
nity that endeared him to so many.
He was a board member or trustee to
dozens of community organizations, in-
cluding Blanchet Catholic School, Cas-
cade Pacific Council of the Boy Scouts of
America, Oregon Historical Society, Ore-
gon State Police Foundation and Special
Olympics Oregon. Even when he turned
90, he still held positions for 18 different
organizations.
Every organization wanted Frank’s
presence or his checkbook, preferably
both. One year, he received 300 invita-
tions to speak at events.
“You wish you could do everything
people ask you to do,” he once said,
“which obviously is not possible.”
Even so, Frank could be spotted at just
about every civic and social event in
town, often wearing pastel-colored shirts
and ties, or eye-catching sweaters in
cooler weather, and always a pair of
funky loafers or brightly colored sneak-
ers.
And, yes, he was a master fundraiser
involved with dozens of efforts, including
campaigns for the Salvation Army Kroc
Center, Oregon Garden, Oregon Coast
Aquarium, Oregon High Desert Museum
and Oregon Symphony.
Prospective donors had a tough time
saying no to him.
He had a tough time saying no, too.
When he donated $1 million to help
build the Kroc Center in north Salem, it
was almost secondary.
“He actually probably gave more than
that by his influence,” said Dick Withnell,
a friend and fellow businessman and phi-
lanthropist.
Being “Oregon’s Premier Citizen,” by
gubernatorial proclamation in 2000,
came with a price. Only Frank knew just
how hefty that price was.
“I am public property 24 hours a day. I
have no private life whatsoever,” he said
during a 2017 interview. “That’s not al-
ways easy, but it’s been that way all my
life.”
To be frank, he brought some of that
on himself. He was a quintessential self-
promoter. His office-turned-museum
displayed mementos from all his hob-
nobbing and globe-trotting.
Frank could have planted roots any-
where, but he chose Salem. He lived in
the same house he had built in 1954 in the
Candalaria neighborhood until he died,
and his love and concern for the commu-
nity never wavered.
“If I were writing about me,” he once
said over lunch at the Konditorei, “I
would emphasize how fortunate I feel to
be able to spend (more than) a half-cen-
tury in this city. I stayed because I love
the community and I love the people
here.”
Born into privilege
Gerald Wendel Frank was born Sept.
21, 1923, in Portland, the son of Aaron and
Ruth Frank.
His father was a no-nonsense busi-
nessman who as president of Meier &
Frank turned it into one of the leading re-
tail stores in the Northwest. His mother
was the exact opposite, nurturing and
loving.
“My father taught me the toughness of
being a businessman,” Frank once said.
“My mother taught me the importance of
loving people and having a soft side.”
He spent more time with his Scottish
governess than either of his parents. Mrs.
Anne “Roy” Munro came to the Frank
family when Gerry was a year old, teach-
ing him the importance of manners.
Frank kept in touch with her almost daily
until she died.
Gerry Frank stands overlooking Willamette Valley Vineyards, one of his favorite
local places that are included in his guide book, “Gerry Frank’s Oregon.” Frank,
Salem’s most famous citizen, died Sunday morning at the age of 98. STATESMAN
JOURNAL FILE PHOTO
His mother died of a stroke in her 40s,
and his father died in his 70s. His older
brother also died relatively young, in his
40s, leaving five nephews and nieces
with whom Frank was close.
Frank attended public schools, gradu-
ating from Lincoln High in 1940. One of
his fondest memories at Ainsworth
Grammar School was running for mayor
and winning the election on his 13th
birthday.
That didn’t pave the way for a future in
politics, although he had a great uncle
who served as Oregon’s governor in the
1930s, and he would later work for a U.S.
senator.
He also rebuffed multiple pleas to run
for local office.
“I quit while I was ahead,” he said.
Frank’s childhood was one of privi-
lege. His family had two homes, spend-
ing summers on what he called “The
Farm,” which was in Garden Home near
present-day Beaverton.
His father purchased the idyllic prop-
erty because he wanted a place for his
treasured show horses, with indoor and
outdoor tracks and two stables.
It eventually became the family’s full-
time residence. In addition to a govern-
ess, the family’s staff included a house-
keeper, a farrier and a head gardener.
Frank, who drove a new Cadillac when
he was in high school, never knew he was
being brought up differently than anyone
until he put on a military uniform.
From the battlefield
to Cambridge
He attended Loyola and Stanford uni-
versities before joining the Army in 1943
and serving in the European Theater of
Operations during World War II.
He was a sergeant major in the field
artillery of the 89th Infantry Division, 3rd
Army. His division took part in offensives
that crossed the Moselle and Rhine rivers
and overran Ohrdruf, the first Nazi con-
centration camp liberated by U.S. troops.
He undervalued his role and that of his
unit in a letter home, dated April 9, 1945,
and published nearly seven decades later
in a book about Frank published by Jan
Boutin:
“Naturally, all are very proud of the
achievement the division has made in
the short time we have been in combat —
too much credit cannot be given to the in-
fantrymen. After all, they are the ones
who really do the fighting. The artillery,
where I am, is just a supporting hand.”
In another letter, he described the Ger-
man countryside as lovely, reminding
him of Oregon.
With his service came great opportu-
nity. The Army sponsored one soldier
from each division — out of 15,000 — to
attend European universities, and Frank
was selected for a term at Cambridge.
After getting out of the Army, he re-
turned to Cambridge to complete his
Bachelor of Arts degree and get a Master
of Arts, with honors. He was there from
1946 to 1948, the only American out of
300 or so students at Trinity Hall, one of
the colleges.
Years later, in 2000, he was among a
small group of distinguished graduates
invited to dine on Thanksgiving with
Queen Elizabeth II for the 650-year anni-
versary of Trinity Hall. His Royal High-
ness Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburg, was
chancellor of the university at the time.
Guinea fowl instead of turkey was
served, depriving Frank of one of his fa-
vorite dishes, but he said it was worth the
once-in-a-lifetime experience.
“I had to pinch myself that this ex-rag
merchant from Salem was dining with
the queen,” he said upon returning to Sa-
lem.
Meier & Frank branches out
Expansion of northwest retail giant
Meier & Frank brought Frank to town. His
father was president of the company
when it began scouting locations for its
first branch store.
“My dad and I on Sundays would drive
around Salem and Eugene, the two obvi-
ous places for a store,” Frank said. “Dad
would put his coat collar up so nobody
would recognize him. The minute word
got out that Meier & Frank was looking
for property, the price would go up.”
Eugene was further away from Port-
land and at the time the larger city, but
there wasn’t a favorable downtown site to
build. A block became available in down-
town Salem, making it the frontrunner.
The property, bounded by Center,
Church, Marion and High streets, includ-
ed the building that served as Salem’s
first high school. By the time Meier &
Frank purchased the property and began
demolition, it housed only school ad-
ministration offices.
Frank was named the Salem store
manager in 1953 and in preparation for
the opening, spent a year traveling the
world looking at new stores, shopping
centers and parking garages. He visited
department stores in London, Paris and
Rome to get ideas for merchandise dis-
play.
The $5 million, 183,000-square-foot
Salem store, the largest in the state out-
side Portland, opened Oct. 27, 1955. A
frenzied crowd of 75,000 people flocked
to the store that day, more than half the
population of Salem. Some came just to
ride the novel escalators.
The store featured some of the most
modern innovations in retail marketing,
including an attached parking garage for
750 cars.
Frank did more than just manage the
opening and day-to-day operations of a
prosperous store that would anchor
downtown for many years. He immedi-
ately got involved in the community,
which he felt was important to the store’s
success. He joined the hospital board and
became active in United Way, Chamber
of Commerce and Boy Scouts, and that
was just a start.
Frank resigned as vice president and
manager of Meier & Frank in 1965, around
the time a bitter intra-family battle erupt-
ed over potential buyout offers. The chain
was acquired the following year by May
Department Stores, which later sold to
the parent company of Macy’s.
It was difficult for Frank to watch the
family business, which his great-grand-
father Aaron Meier started in 1857, pass
into corporate hands.
“There hasn’t been a day since I left
that people haven’t said to me how much
they miss Meier & Frank,” Frank said dur-
ing a recent interview.
Some say one of the main reasons he
stayed in Salem and was so charitable
was to thank the community for the de-
partment store’s success.
Trading retail for politics
Frank met Mark Hatfield when they
were named two of the state’s most eligi-
ble bachelors by “The Oregonian” in 1956.
Frank was running Meier & Frank at the
time. Hatfield was an ambitious young
state senator from Marion County and
dean of students at Willamette Univer-
sity.
The two became friends, and Frank
ultimately became Hatfield’s closest ad-
visor and chief of staff during two terms
as governor and three decades on Capitol
Hill.
Frank followed Hatfield to Washing-
ton, where he was a special advisor the
first term, paid a token $1 only so that he
would be allowed on the Senate floor. He
later took charge of Hatfield’s office and
did receive a salary.
He didn’t need the money. He was a
millionaire.
Frank was an influencer behind the
scenes, widely known as “Oregon’s third
senator.”
“Few people ever occupy such a confi-
dential position with a decision-maker,”
Ted
Kulongoski,
then
state
insurance commissioner, said in a 1988
Statesman Journal article. “It’s rare in the
sense that an individual is willing to sac-
rifice the glory for somebody else. Call it
maturity, sophistication or whatever —
Gerry just acknowledges you don’t have
to have a microphone in front of you to be
effective as an elected official.”
Frank could have had his own career
in politics, but he always said he didn’t
have the necessary ego.
Hatfield retired in 1997, having never
lost an election, and Frank was a big rea-
son.
Hatfield was responsible for the choc-
olate cake contest that bore Frank’s name
and became one of the longest-standing
traditions at the Oregon State Fair.
After Frank helped organize his win-
ning gubernatorial campaign in 1958,
Hatfield asked if there was something he
wanted in return. Thinking of his pen-
chant for chocolate, he told Hatfield he’d
like to judge chocolate cakes at the state
fair.
As Frank liked to say, it was Hatfield’s
only political “payoff” in a long and es-
teemed career.
The Gerry Frank Chocolate Layer Cake
Contest was launched in 1959, and Frank
was the sole judge for 60 consecutive
years through 2019. Each year, he ate 100
to 200 forkfuls of chocolate cake in just a
few hours. Even for an admitted choco-
holic, he relied on a “Pepto-Bismol sand-
wich” to endure, taking a swig of the pink
elixir before and after.
Only a pandemic could force him to
put the fork down.
A five-layer, milk chocolate cake with
milk chocolate buttercream frosting be-
came the foundation of the gourmet cake
shop he and Barney Rogers opened in
1982. They met on the board of directors
of Standard Insurance, of which Frank’s
grandfather was one of the founders.
Gerry Frank’s Konditorei, the German
word for a pastry and coffee shop, ex-
panded over the years to serve breakfast,
lunch and dinner seven days a week. The
40-seat café became a community land-
mark on the corner of Commercial and
Kearney streets SE with its red and white
awnings.
Frank became the sole owner in 2012
when he bought out Rogers, then sold the
business in 2017 to a group that included
his longtime manager. The café has since
expanded.
Part of the deal was that his name
would stay on the marquee and title.
Museum for an office
Frank was connected. The walls in the
fifth-floor penthouse at Spinnaker Place
in southeast Salem reminded a visitor
just how connected.
That was his office for 20 years, and it
was part boardroom, part museum.
Decorated from floor to ceiling with
autographed portraits, all signed to
Frank, they showcased the famous peo-
ple he rubbed elbows with.
They included Bob Hope, Sammy Da-
vis Jr., Lucille Ball, President George W.
Bush, Queen Elizabeth and Tony Blair,
just to name a few.
Visitors to Frank’s office arrived and
departed starstruck, thinking they’d just
been to a museum, not a workspace.
“I’m used to it,” Frank said. “I see them
looking around and just sit here.”
One wall in his office was devoted to
Oregon politicians, with Hatfield in the
center. Another photo showed Frank be-
tween then-Gov. Ted Kulongoski and
first lady Mary Oberst, with Oberst giving
Frank a smooch on the cheek.
Each encounter was special to Frank,
some more than others. Meeting Mother
Teresa ranked right up there with the
greatest, and personal correspondence
from her was among his most treasured
mementos.
He visited her a few times in Calcutta,
India, while he was chief of staff for Hat-
field in the 1970s and 1980s, and another
time when she came to Washington, D.C.
and attended a prayer breakfast.
A subset of his collection included
documents and photographs signed by
all the presidents of the United States
and all the presidents of the Continental
Congress.
It took 20 years of perusing auctions
and bookstore attics for him to complete.
Frank was persistent no matter what
the endeavor.
In October 2020, he reluctantly moved
out of his office, realizing it was time to
downsize at his age. He shared much of
the collection with businesses, restau-
rants and organizations across town and
the state, places that were part of his life.
His only request was that the items be
shared publicly, not locked up in a vault.
The large round table where so many
plans were hatched and funds raised for
community projects will have a new
home at the YMCA. The stories that table
could tell are the stuff of legend, like the
time 20 business leaders gathered
around it for a 2006 breakfast meeting,
resulting in $2 million in pledges in 20
minutes for the Kroc Center.
Many items went to the Oregon His-
torical Society, including items related to
Hatfield and Meier & Frank. Kerry Tym-
chuk, executive director of the Portland
museum, made three trips to Salem to
collect the goods, including stacks of
Frank’s personal scrapbooks. There are
more than 150 of them, first kept by his
family, then by his assistants.
“It’s a one-of-a-kind history of Ore-
gon,” Tymchuk said.
Capi Lynn is the Statesman Journal’s
news columnist. She writes about the
people and history of this community,
and Gerry Frank was a frequent subject
of her columns over the years. Contact
her at clynn@StatesmanJournal.com or
503-399-6710, or follow her on Twitter
@CapiLynn and Facebook @CapiL-
ynnSJ.