Frank A.

Frank's faith journey has been long and at times arduous.

Tragedy has tested him. His church family has strengthened him.

“I was not of faith for a long time in my life,” he said. “When I came to Trinity in 1988, I still didn’t dig that far into faith and following God and the Bible and educating myself. It was in my heart, but it was somewhat also wanting to expose the family to the right things and good people, even if I was maybe going through the motions.

“It took me quite a while to develop really strong faith.”

Frank, a longtime U.S. Postal Service worker and decorated Vietnam War veteran, grew up Catholic in Milwaukee’s central city. He joined Trinity with his family in the late 1980s, calling it a “good community church.”

“There was something about the vibe at Trinity that told me ‘this is a good place,’” he said.

He would lean on that as tragedy struck.

Frank’s daughter, Avery, died of an accidental fentanyl overdose in 2017.

“She was full of life – she had a little pizzazz about her,” he said. “She had a special touch with children. She had a good heart – and she broke her own heart and broke ours.”

Trinity has helped heal it, and as he works to battle alcoholism more than six years after taking his last drink.

“Religion is a “social spirituality,’” he said. “I look forward to Sunday “gatherings” of my church family, and during the week I start each day with daily readings in seeking to be guided to living a better way.”

Several moments shortly after his daughter’s death put him on that course.

Frank recalled one just hours before Avery’s funeral, as he stopped at Walgreens to buy mints. He saw a man fall to the ground outside. Frank rushed to the bloodied man’s side and comforted him until paramedics arrived.

Another faith-testing moment came shortly after the funeral, when, on his way Up North with his grandson, Avery’s son, he helped an ill motorist at a gas station. “He said, ‘I’m going to my parents’ house, and I know I shouldn’t drive anymore. I have a problem with seizures. So I called his parents. They told me, ‘Yeah, he can’t drive. Then they said to me … he probably doesn’t know his son just died. It turns out his son died of an overdose. I went to the funeral.”

Then, a month or two later, Frank, on his way back from Up North, came across a man parked on the Hoan Bridge, about to jump. He pulled up slowly to confirm what was going on and called the police.

“The message was ‘help others,’” Frank said. “Those were touches from God. They helped win over my heart. That is a big part of my faith, to do for others.”

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