Seventy years ago, July 31, 1953, a 9 lb. 12 oz. angel was placed on earth.

Frank Kutnicki (of blessed memory) was born in Washington Heights (the upper west side of NYC) to Valeria and Solomon (of blessed memory), the 3rd son of Holocaust survivors.

Described by all as the ‘peace-maker’ among a household of rough and tumble boys (with a younger sister rounding out the sibling mix), he grew into a handsome, strapping 6’2 1/2 in. ‘gentle giant.’

Smart as a whip, his educational success commenced with admission to the nationwide, acclaimed Stuyvesant High School, in Manhattan – having graduated with high honors, in 1971.

Despite a financially-strapped childhood, he was determined to make the most of the gifts bestowed by G-d – and that meant achieving the best education possible. To said end, through a diligent work ethic, patience, and much perseverance, he achieved his professional goal; the owner of a successful CPA Corporate Tax Practice.

But the above was a means to an end. Most significantly, his ultimate goal was to be able to provide for his 2 sons that which would enable them to achieve their dreams. He more than succeeded in his ‘mission.’

Above all else, I was blessed to spend 32 years with a most humble and descent man – whose presence enriched all those who were fortunate enough to be in his joyful orbit. He was a person who always treated others with kindness and respect – he didn’t distinguish between the delivery man to the wealthiest client.

At its base, his uplifting outlook and booming laughter still resonates in my heart and mind’s eye. Ever so gently, he softened my sharp edges. Simply put, he made me a more compassionate person. He uplifted me. He quietly walks beside me every day, strengthening me, so that I can continue living a life filled with love.

Though taken from this earth much too soon, my hope and prayer is that Frank (of blessed memory) – as close to a living angel as possible – is now warm in the embrace of parents whom he missed so dearly, having lost them when he was a young adult.

Alongside parents who raised him so well, it gives me comfort to envision him doing a jig with his brother-in-law, Morty Dzikansky (of blessed memory); his absolute bestie. Having enjoyed each other’s company for many years, that is, akin to a barrel of monkeys, it could be no other way.