Dad’s Story
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On the evening of Thursday, April 18, 2024, after nearly 93 years, Frank Bowles Jr. died.
But before that he lived; he really lived.
He did not go quietly.
He was a fighter who battled against the dimming of the light until the very end.
His grit and determination were evident throughout his life.
He loved adventure.
At an early age, he and his mother would regularly go on road trips to seek out undiscovered treasures. Their travels would often take them well beyond the boundaries of their hometown, and his birthplace, Hopewell, Va., to other parts of the region.
That was the beginning.
In the years that followed, with his intrepid father leading the way, the whole family, including his beloved sister Josephine, would regularly embark on family treks throughout the region, and later, would also strike out on epic adventures out west.
Life was good, even predictable, but shortly after his 10th birthday, in August of 1941, his life would change forever.
His father and mother, both ardent explorers, were about to orchestrate the single biggest adventure in all their lives.
Under the weight of the Great Depression, with all their possessions secured in a converted school bus and five-ton truck, his family set course to a remote destination, 2,500 miles away, in Northern Idaho.
Not far from the childhood hunting grounds of his father, the small town of Lowell, Idaho, at the confluence of the Lochsa and Selway Rivers, was quite literally the end of the road, and their new home.
Upon their arrival, with the help of Jeff Carter, a hard living carpenter who had accompanied them from Virgina, a small cabin was built. The first of many structures that would consume their lives in the years to come, and eventually be known collectively as Deerlodge.
Missing their daughter Josephine, who was by now attending Duke Nursing School, that first winter of 1941 was proving to be difficult but manageable when news of a far-off attack was described on the radio. The date was Dec. 7, 1941; the small town of Lowell would soon be transformed.
Almost overnight fear gripped the nation, certain American citizens with foreign ties were stripped of their rights and relocated to government sites throughout the country. One of those sites was just six miles upriver from Deerlodge on the Lochsa.
The newly constructed multinational internment camp would be central to the Bowles family survival.
The family raised cattle to be sold to the internment camp, while Frank and his father hunted deer and elk for the family’s consumption; unable to afford the luxurious beef themselves.
In addition to being a reliable customer, the internment camp was fortuitous to the family in another way; one of the detainees saved his father’s life.
Frank’s father, Frank Sr., had been suffering from a life-threatening liver disease.
Frustrated by local health care professionals’ inability to diagnose his ailment, the family turned to a German physician held at the multinational internment camp for help; he delivered. The doctor diagnosed the ailment and prescribed an effective remedy; all was well.
The war years saw the despair of many promising young men’s permanent departure from the local community; but for Frank, it was a time of adventure, bonding and hard work with his father.
There was so much to do and so little money to underwrite the ambitious projects.
Fueled by the collective efforts of Frank Sr., Mr. Carter and Frank Jr., a barn was procured from the Civilian Conservation Corps for pennies on the dollar, under the condition that the structure be disassembled on site and reassembled in its new location at Deerlodge.
A blacksmith shop was available for free from the internment camp, if only it was jacked up and loaded, intact, to its new location near the barn.
The structural underpinnings of their main home, a Virgina-styled southern colonial, designed by his mother, Butler, was secured with discarded pressure treated lumber from the rebuilding of a nearby bridge.
The war years came and went with ongoing construction activities at Deerlodge leading to five additional cabins and the completion of their main home.
Just a few years later, Frank Jr.’s full-time presence at Deerlodge came to a close. He was about to embark on the next chapter of his great adventure.
In 1948 he started school at the University of Idaho, first majoring in engineering then pivoting to business, graduating in 1952.
After his graduation from the University of Idaho, Frank had some unfinished business in the form of a commitment to the U.S. Army. His first posting was at Fort Benning, Ga., a hot and humid locale that held little appeal to him. After his initial training, and completely contrary to military protocol, he wrote to a regional commander at the Pentagon to request reassignment to a new locale. He got his wish and was soon on his way to Fairbanks, Alaska.
While in Alaska, among other things, Frank got acquainted with mosquitoes and downhill skiing. The latter being a fun-filled activity that he would later share with his wife and children throughout his life.
After his stint in the Army, he returned to the University of Idaho, where he found his two great loves.
His first love was a sleek beauty by the name of Stinson, an unusual name for a coed, but not so strange a name for the airplane operated by the University of Idaho Vandal Flying Club.
It seemed like love at first sight; or maybe just the continuation of a love for airplanes that had begun years earlier.
That first moment came in the form of a pedal powered toy biplane that was a gift from his father on his third birthday. Certain that he could get it airborne, his enthusiasm knew no bounds as he roared up and down the street in front of his Hopewell, Va., home, confident that with just a little more effort he would soon be soaring over the rooftops. It was the start to a life of adventure in the sky.
His passion for flying continued throughout his life.
He routinely planned and executed hair-raising flights in and out of remote airstrips throughout the Northwest. In addition, his love of flying inspired him to pilot his plane, affectionately known as “Old Blue,” from coast to coast, as well as taking multiple excursions to Mexico and Alaska.
Although his love of flying eventually gave way to the passage of time, his love for a statuesque brown-eyed beauty never waned.
Her dazzling smile was only eclipsed by her beautiful mind.
From the beginning Frank and Faye were inseparable.
Within a year of their meeting, in August of 1956, he and Faye Marlene Hartwell were married.
Then just one year later, in the fall of 1957, their first daughter was born.
Sue, a wide-eyed wonder with beautiful blue eyes, was the center of their universe, until just 12 months later another daughter, Becky, arrived on the scene bubbling with happy enthusiasm.
Later, in June of 1960, Jeff arrived; their family was complete.
Frank had always been attentive to his business affairs but now he doubled his efforts.
Initially focusing on insurance then transitioning to real estate, he excelled, both in prosperity and community involvement.
His leadership roles included a variety of community and industry board positions as well as a term as president of the Idaho Real Estate Commission, where he was appointed by then Gov. Cecil Andrus.
Shortly after his 50th birthday in 1981, he made good on a promise to himself to retire at an early age.
Thereafter, his focus turned to time with family and friends.
Throughout his life he remained gregarious and affable, always willing to lend an ear.
He relished his weekly golf outings with his buddies at Hillcrest and also managed to squeeze in memorable golf trips to Arizona, California and Scotland.
He came to know and love his charming granddaughters and great-grandchildren during family gatherings at Deerlodge, while continuing his warm relationships with his nieces, nephews and children.
He and Faye remained active in the local community and relished dinners and social gatherings with long-term friends.
Skiing trips to Sun Valley. Fishing trips to Alaska. Sightseeing trips to San Francisco;
All parts of the rich mosaic of his life.
He remained grateful to all those people that contributed so greatly to his long and wonderful life.
But most of all, he was grateful for his friend Faye; his co-pilot and love of his life.
He will be missed but not forgotten.
