On February 9, 2004, SOAR lost a very dear friend, volunteer, and dog lover. Connie Frank lost her battle with cancer and died at her daughter's home in New York. Connie loved to come to SOAR and play with, pet, and walk the dogs. She had two dogs of her own but that wasn't enough; she loved the SOAR dogs and wanted to see them at every opportunity.  

Connie was born in England and grew up to become a proper Englishwoman.    Connie experienced wartime as a young girl.  WWII was raging and this shaped her early childhood, and memories of this war stayed with her throughout her life.  The war affected her school, her play activities, and her family, and also helped to make her a strong woman.  The war also was instrumental in her finding the love of her life.  She met and married Dick Frank, an American soldier.  They were married for more than 40 years, until Dick’s death in 1998.

She was a true renaissance woman; athlete (sailing and tennis), scholar, artist, and philanthropist.  She was very patrician and regal.  She was a woman who would clean dog kennels and would also have made a fine Queen of England.

Connie was a watercolorist of note.   Living on Long Island, NY she flourished in the New York art community.  Her work was selected to hang in the Cork Gallery at the Lincoln Center for three successive years.   She was at the peak of success with loyal patronage and many awards when she left the intensive activity of New York for the quiet serenity of Mathews, VA in 1984.  She limited her art work there to local shows and galleries.  

Mathews, Va is located on the Chesapeake Bay and she and Dick loved to sail it’s waters.  They also became very active in Coast Guard rescue.  They were Coast Guard volunteers and assisted on all of the Coast Guard’s activities in their area.

Connie moved to St. James, SC, from Virginia in 2000, two years after Dick’s death.  She didn’t know a soul in St. James so it took courage to leave a known and wonderful community with many friends and a strong support group to come to a ‘strange land’.  But, she left England for America so we shouldn’t be too surprised.   In St. James she continued her art and her art-related activities; clubs, instruction, shows, galleries, etc.  But she needed more and came to SOAR to volunteer as a helper with the dogs. 

I met Connie at SOAR.  We had an initial bonding experience; not of the most pleasant kind.  We had a dog at SOAR and as I was walking it one day it escaped from me and immediately looked for a cat to attack.  Well, if you know SOAR you know finding a cat is very easy.   The dog grabbed one but fortunately the cat escaped and I was able to get the dog back before she could find another victim.  It was a very close call.  I failed miserably in communicating this incident to the other volunteers and Connie came on a subsequent day to walk this same dog.  As Connie was leaving the main dog enclosure and latching the door, dog in tow, a cat made the fatal mistake of coming too close.  Connie was traumatized for a long time.  I told her many times it was my fault for not letting her know about this dog’s nature.  Connie continued to come everyday to spend time with the dogs but these incidents taught us both about how great care has to be taken when handling the animals.

We had another scary bonding experience there too.   Connie and I were cleaning kennels one morning when we heard a commotion at the other end of the dog enclosure.  Lo and behold one of our biggest dogs had somehow managed to climb up the walls of his kennel, go through the wire mesh ceiling, and somehow get up on the roof of the kennel.  This dog was over eight feet in the air and panicked because he then had nowhere to go.   Somehow Connie and I had to get this dog down.  And we had no idea how.   Well, Connie did although I cannot say it was the smartest thing I’ve ever heard of. She ran to get a ladder.  I said Connie, are you nuts, what are you going to do?  She said get this dog off of this roof.  Connie was over 70 years old and this dog is at least 90 pounds.  And she is going to climb this ladder and carry this dog to safety?   Yeah, right.  Connie used to be in the Coast Guard rescue so she had formidable skills but not so formidable that they would enable her to carry this frightened dog down this ladder.   I told her to ‘fergettaboutit’.   Our shelter manager came out and with a huge bone as a carrot persuaded a most reluctant dog to jump.   As he hit the ground, his legs buckled, but then up he came up and he was fine.  We fixed the dog kennel’s escape hatch and back in the dog went.  Crisis over.

Connie became sick a month later. Test after test found nothing, at least for a month or two.  And then tests revealed what Connie suspected, cancer.  I was with her when the doctor told her she only had months to live.   Well, to be more precise, I was sitting in the waiting room waiting for her.   We talked a lot on the way home from the doctor’s office.   She was very stoic for someone having just received the worst news.  There was no fear, no tears, just strength. 

Connie came home and called her daughters and gave them the news.   Her daughters were magnificent.  They quickly took control.  They came to St. James to be with her and manage the myriad of tasks ahead.  Most importantly they told her what she was going to do and left no decisions to her.  Connie said she appreciated that so much.  Her daughter Gerry told Connie that Connie was moving to New York with her and that that would be happening very soon.  And that is what happened.  Gerry just took Connie to New York and left her house and all of her belongings intact in St. James.  She felt all of this could be dealt with later.  When Connie got to New York she was so comfortable there.  Gerry had prepared a room for her that Connie told me was just the ultimate in comfort and the absolute perfect place for her to spend her remaining days.   I hope this won’t hurt, or surprise Gerry, but Connie told me that, although she knew her daughters loved her, she was amazed at the love and care they were giving to her at this time. Connie was comfortable and very happy in Gerry’s home.

Before Connie and Gerry left for New York, they gave a farewell luncheon party at a Southport restaurant and invited about 20 of Connie’s friends.  Connie got up and spoke.  Her little ‘speech’ was one of the most inspirational, thoughtful, and touching moments of my life.  She did not say one word about herself or her plight, her past, or her future.  Not one word.  She went around the room and talked at length about what each one of us meant to her.  Most of us did not know each other.  But, after Connie spoke, we all knew each other, we knew each other’s connection to Connie, and we knew how she felt about us.  It was a virtuoso performance, the epitome of courage, grace, and style.

And then she was off to NY with Gerry.  I talked to her on the phone maybe twice in the next month and then she was gone. 

Connie had a favorite dog at SOAR.  Her name was Dot.  Connie loved to take her for walks and pet and groom her.   Her greatest wish was that Dot would find a good home.  Well, Dot found a great home but unfortunately it happened a month after Connie had died.  Timing was not good and Connie never knew.

Here’s a little insight into the kind of person that Connie was.  Connie had been experiencing health problems and rather serious and unexplained ones for a couple of months.  She had been to the doctor again for even more tests to try to determine the cause of her discomfort and pain.  As mentioned previously she suspected cancer.  She and I were at SOAR on a Friday morning and she told me she had a doctor's appointment that afternoon to get the results of these tests.  She told me that this doctor’s appointment was originally scheduled for Monday but that the doctor had called her the day before and told her that the news she wanted to talk to her about would not wait until Monday, and could Connie please come in on Friday afternoon. Well, that sounded pretty ominous to me. And to Connie.  A little bit later in this same conversation Connie said that she didn't get a wink of sleep that night.  Well, I could certainly understand that.  But the next words out of her mouth surprised me to no end. She said the reason for her insomnia was that she was so worried about how the SOAR dogs were faring in the terrible thunderstorm that we had had that night. Can you believe it? Here's a sick woman, fearing cancer, just being told by the doctor that test results cannot wait over a weekend, and she is laying in bed, unable to sleep, and thinking about the SOAR dogs. That was Connie. 

We miss her very much. Jack Floyd