In January, Frank Taylor Wright died, age 90.
For years, I’d heard stories from my children and husband about seeing him walking downtown dressed to the 9’s. He wore suits in a rainbow array of colors, complete with matching pocket squares, shoes, ties, socks, hats, and umbrellas. I’d love to include pictures here, but I haven’t gotten copyright permission. So I’ll just add a few links so that you can see Mr. Wright. Each of these links tells a little more of his story, how he’d get dressed and ride a bus from Durham to Chapel Hill and then stroll along Franklin Street. How he came to visit his grandson’s family for a week and stayed 13 years. How he was buried in a red and black suit to express his exuberance. How his grandson’s family is selling his suits to help pay for the funeral expenses. So here are the links to Mr. Frank Taylor Wright …
He told Artie Dixon, a photographer who did a photo essay about him, “”I have to believe people were born for something, and I was born to dress.”
Seeing him was special — it gave us the same joy as seeing a perfect flower blooming. We miss him!