Harry (Frank) Francis Cook: Jan. 4, 1922 - Jan. 1, 2011

It is with sadness that we note the death of Sue's father, Frank Cook. 




Cook Family Reunion 2009
Anacotes, Washington
Mike, Tom, Sue, Bill, Cathy
Bob, Dad, Sally



Cook Family Reunion 2009
Grandpa Cook and some of the 14 Grand kids
Lisa Cook, David Cook, Mathew Cook, Grant Suneson, Inga Suneson
Conner Nicholson, Zachary Nicholson, Grandpa Cook, Emma Nicholson

Frank grew up on Fidalgo Island where the Cook family farmed on the shores of Padilla Bay.  Frank attended school in Anacortes where he would not only bring his pencils and books to class, but on occasion he would bring his rifle to school, on the chance that after class he might be able to bring home some venison for the dinner table along with his geography homework.  After High School Frank enrolled in the College of Veterinary Medicine at Washington State, practicing large animal veterinary medicine in Miles City, Montana and Mt. Vernon, Washington and then served as a Captain in the Army Veterinary Corps during the Korean War.  Afterwards he joined the US Dept. of Agriculture's Plant and Animal Inspection Service where he kept tabs on the health of the then numerous dairy herds in northwestern Washington and worked to keep his region clear of brucellosis that would devastate the industry.

Frank was a man of the good earth, comfortable on the water as well as the woods.  He was a man intent on wrestling and coaxing goodness and from the land and I would say that he was mostly successful at his endeavors.  In the mid-1950's Frank and Helen moved into a small house on the banks of the Pilchuck Creek.  The place on the Pilchuck soon had cleared pasture land, several cows and a plentiful garden.  And as the Cook family expanded, Frank had a new house built higher up out of the flood plain.  The Pilchuck home was a picture of industry and fruitfulness.  Fruitful not only in the well cared for orchard with each tree bearing a unique fruit; a variety of pears and apples (after all this is Washington, "The Apple State"); also a fruitful and well-tended blue berry patch (several varieties that ripened at different point throughout the summer) and a tilled garden that supplied the family's vegetables and pasture maintained for the livestock.  But also fruitful in the fact that 7 Cook kids were raised on the land as well.  I am in awe at the industry and energy Frank devoted to life, not only his "day job" at the USDA, but to then come home and manage his own small herd, butchering on the premises for family meals.  Sue recalls the philosophy of her parents while feeding seven kids, that nothing they raised for food should go to waste; never-the-less when the dinner menu included pig's knuckles and braised liver, she attempted to hide these entrees behind the bottle of milk, hoping that her decision to "waste"what was placed in front of her would go unnoticed amongst the din and commotion created by the 9 mouths around the table.  Some Saturdays Frank would go to the hardware store in town to buy a box of dynamite to blow up tree stumps to clear additional land for pasture and farm - and no one had a problem with easy (and useful) access to high explosives in the hands of an honest, hard working man [What has changed?]. 

By the time I came into the picture Frank had "retired".  That is to say he no longer worked for the USDA, but he had moved to a place outside Mount Vernon and was busy cultivating, grafting and experimenting with an orchard full of apple trees.  He loved to take us out into the orchard and slice off a piece of apple from a variety of which he was particularly fond, and have us taste an apple the way God had intended it to taste.  His garden was robust with peppers, artichokes, berries, tomatoes, lettuce and a host of other herbaceous delights that were quickly picked and hand over to us during our tour.

Being born and raised in Skagit County, he had connections. Those connections were used to procure the crab that was served in the mini crab quiches at our wedding reception.   Being a local, he knew where the good beaches (or mud flats) were for a good ol' clam dig.  One great summer Frank set us all up with buckets, boots and shovels, and took us out clamming on Whidbey Island.  He told us how to tell a Butter Clam from a Littleneck Clam, how to dig to catch a Manilla Clam and how to look for the siphons of a Horse Clam.  That afternoon of clamming we almost lost Cathy to the sucking mud and the incoming tide, but we pulled her out sans boot to hobble back to the cars and clean our haul of mollusks and head home on the ferry to prepare a fresh clam dinner.  He used his connections to find a boat and a captain to take many of us Cooks and honorary Cooks out salmon fishing one summer morning, and everyone caught their limit that morning. I have since tried to repeat the experience several times, but those fish just don't bite for me.  Frank was generous to us when we would make it out to Washington to see him, taking us all to the Big Lake Tavern for all you can eat crab (the original Fabtabulous Crab Grab), or buying our admission tickets for the Seattle Aquarium.  Frank moved from Mt. Vernon to a 10 acre place in LaConner on Fir Island where he continued to chop and split his own firewood into his 80th year and there he set up another garden and few fruit trees (much to the delight of the local deer population).

Grandpa Cook gives Daughter Sue a tour of his LaConnor Garden
Grant takes a shine to a zucchini

 

Inga & Grant play on Grandpas Cook's tree stump
while Inga tries to manipulate his pet cat named "Cat"
LaConnor, Washington c. 1997

Bob and Ann moved out to LaConner to be with Frank a few years back.  With Ann's nursing background and specific geriatric expertise, she and Bob, Robert, Hannah and Katieann were a tremendous blessing in being an advocate for Dad and caring for him over the last several years and facilitating his move to Birch View in Sedro-Woolley.  We are indebted to Ann and Bob with love and gratitude beyond measure for all they have done over the years for Dad, through visits, doctor consultation and vociferously advocating for Dad's care in the face of many an institution.  On the off chance that I should ever get old, I would hope to have somebody half as good as Ann when it comes to my care.  Cathy with her education and background in accounting was also a great blessing in helping her Dad put his affairs in order over the past several years and seeing to a smooth transition in his living situation.

After four score and nine years Frank Cook has left this world a better place for having raised goodness from the ground, carving a home out of the wood, barehanded and stubborn, and all the more so in having raised greatness in the form of a fine family of seven children - good folks each and everyone of them to this day.  (Such good people those Cooks that if I had to do it over again I would still choose to marry one of them)  And I do believe that Dad is now joyfully tending a new garden and enjoying the fruits of his labors past.  Farewell Dad, may we remember you and your life of strength, industry and bounty with the blessing of every apple blossom we see and every cord of wood we have the pleasure to stack.