The Untimely Demise of Henry Frizzel

This is the story of how two very different individuals crossed paths one day and impacted each other’s lives in such ways that neither his nor her life would ever be the same again.

Henry Frizzel wasn’t a wealthy man, nor was he considered attractive by most of the women throughout the city. He was five foot eight, and growing increasingly at the waste everyday that passed him by. His voice was baritone and unpleasantly hoarse from the excessive amount of Camel cigarettes that he had been smoking since the age of thirteen. He was also a recovering alcohol, struggling to make each and every miserable second of each and every miserable day of his life go by without a drink. Detaching himself from alcoholism seemed like the toughest loss that he’d had to deal with since the day his mother died. His father was a cop; also an alcoholic who abused his wife daily. One day when Henry Frizzel was eight years old, his mother had finally decided to get out while she was still alive. She took Henry by the hand, packed together his child sized suitcase with as much of his belongings that would possibly fit in such small luggage, and sat him in the back seat of her 82’ rust-bucket Pontiac. Then they drove off. Henry vaguely remembered his mother promising him that he would never have to see that awful man ever again, and from that day forward, things were only going to get better for the two of them. Now, twenty two years later, making a living panhandling throughout various parts of the slums, Henry Frizzel couldn’t help but think to himself; At least some of what mom said back then was true, I sure as hell haven’t seen the drunk bastard ever since that night. Good goddamn riddance.

Andrea Wilson was a recently graduated high school scholar who wanted nothing more than to find her niche and accomplish something of true significance in life. She was rather short and a tiny bit overweight, but all in all, she was an attractive young girl with beautiful bronzed skin and auburn colored hair. Her eyes were a mesmerizing shade of blue, almost the exact color of robin’s eggs. She carried herself with a certain grace that was nearly impossible to perfect. Most girls her age either carried themselves in such ways that they seemed either over-confident and stuck up, or low on self-esteem, fearful of the world, and unsure of themselves. These traits were all major characteristics of weakness and the very last thing that Andrea wanted to be seen as was weak. She had just begun her second week of University and she hated to admit the fact that she was homesick and longed for her Mother’s famous hugs and words of encouragement, those of which got her through some of the most difficult times. Her and her Mother had always been best friends and before she left for University, they made a pact to visit each other every second weekend to catch up on current events over lunch. They were to be meeting up at a fancy little Italian cuisine known as ‘Franco’s’ on Saturday afternoon at 3:30 pm sharp. Andrea picked out her best outfit and wrote the lunch date down on the monthly calendar that hung above her desk in her dorm room.

Henry Frizzel had lost his job working for The Encore Corporation six months back. He was put on leave due to complications involving the state of his personal well-being… Head office had finally been informed of Henry Frizzel’s reputation as the sometimes tardy, but most often absent main office accountant. At about the same time, word was spreading about Henry’s drinking problem. Henry Frizzel wasn’t a rich man, but he sure as hell wasn’t a stupid man either. He put two and two together and came up with the conclusion that head office didn’t want some unreliable drunk working for their Corporation. There was too much at stake to take any chances, especially when it came to questionable staff. That was when things took a turn for the worst for Henry. He’d been unemployed for several months now and his fiancée had left him in fear that they would be bankrupt within the first year of their marriage. Fuck it. Henry didn’t care. As far as he was concerned he’d already been through the worst, living with that bastard drunk cop of a father for eight years. In retrospect, the thought of his father and the horrible things that he had done, made Henry Frizzel’s blood boil and his muscles tense up. Henry was so tormented by his own rage and his father’s rage that it had been hard for him to pull himself back up and continue being a man. Instead, he lost everything that he’d ever had and ended up bankrupt, living off of welfare for as long as he could, and panhandling in the slums of Orange County for some extra cash every now and then. Life was rough but Henry Frizzel never gave up hope that his time to shine was coming, hopefully sooner than later.

Saturday morning came after a long week of settling in at University. Andrea was overjoyed to be visiting her mother later on in the day. She dressed in her most sophisticated looking outfit after taking a long, relaxing shower, and then sat down with a steaming cup of Earl grey tea and the weekly National. It was 11:30 am, Andrea figured she’d leave around two pm if she wanted to arrive a bit early to greet her mother and find a suitable table for two. So far, the day went as planned. However, Andrea did get stuck in some highly unexpected traffic which resulted in her being late for an important lunch date that she had originally planned to arrive early for. That was sort of a downer.

Meanwhile, on the crowded corner of ninety seventh and Maine, Henry Frizzel stood with several dozen or so other people waiting for the light to turn green and the pedestrian crossing sign to flash. The red light was reluctant to change. Henry was starving. He hadn’t eaten a decent meal is days. Days could sometimes seem like weeks, especially at times like this. Henry was eager to get to the other side and come closer to reaching the end of eighty ninth. That’s where he’d had the most of his luck panhandling for spare cash in times of need. He was hoping for a sudden stroke of luck that particular day so that he wouldn’t have to starve for too much longer. The light finally changed from red to green and the herd of stuffy, stressed-out business workers and scrubbed out bums looking to score something- flooded the crosswalk for a brief moment before the light changed again. As Henry crossed to the other side of the street, he caught a glimpse of something green out of the corner of his eye. He almost walked right past it but he was sure damn glad that he didn’t because his luck was about to change- or so he thought. He bent down to get a closer look, and just as he had thought, stuck there in the rusty grid cover of a man-hole was a crisp, vibrantly green twenty dollar bill. Henry Frizzel quickly glanced around to see if anyone near by had noticed dropping the twenty dollar bill. Then he nonchalantly bent down and plucked the twenty dollar bill out of the grid and crammed it into his tattered pant pocket. This was officially Henry’s lucky day- he was about to treat himself to his first real meal in over three weeks, and he knew the perfect place to dine- A quant little Italian eatery on the other end of eighty ninth street called ‘Franco’s’.

By the time Andrea arrived at Franco’s it was ten after three in the afternoon. It took her almost fifteen minutes to be seated due to the late lunch rush and by the time she was sitting down with an expensive bottle of pink baby champagne on the table it was nearly half past. She was expecting her Mother any minute. There was so much that she wanted to tell her mother about her first week at school, she was nearly about to burst with excitement. Andrea’s mother arrived at 3:35 as expected- no less than 10 minutes late and no earlier than 10 minutes early. She had the waiter put the sparkling bottle of pink baby champagne on ice so that it wouldn’t lose its chill. The slightest flaw could end up spoiling what was to be a perfect lunch date between Mother and daughter. As utterly repulsive as perfectionism seemed to most people, Andrea quite admired her Mother for wanting to make everything perfect and keep things that way. Perfectionism, along with strength and determination, was a key ingredient to power. And no matter how hopeless Andrea had felt, or how blind she was when it came to navigating towards her true destiny, she knew that all of those ingredients were in her blood, and that soon enough, her time to shine would come.

Henry Frizzel made it to the corner of Eighty-Ninth Street within seconds after plucking the twenty dollar bill out of the man-hole cover. He walked as fast as his frail old legs could possibly go before turning into a sprint. He was paranoid that if the strangers around him saw him running full speed they might assume that he stole the money from some ritzy stock broker whom he may have crossed paths with. Sure, there were plenty of pick-pockets roaming the streets in a neighborhood like this, but Henry Frizzel sure as hell wasn’t one of them. After all, he usually had some of the best of luck when it came to encountering strangers on the street and asking for spare change. One time he had even ended up with $135 big ones. After a couple of years of panhandling he came to the conclusion that maybe some of those stuck-up ritzies weren’t so bad after all. He would even go as far as to say that some of them were actually quite generous. But then again, maybe he was wrong. Maybe they were just down right afraid of being mugged by some lousy low life walking the streets.


Henry stood before the revolving entrance way of ‘Franco’s Italian-American Eatery and Pub’. He was in awe as he breathed in the tantalizing aromas that floated through the air just outside of the Eatery. ‘Pizza, Pastas, and twenty year old fine wines…What more could a guy of my misfortune possibly ask for?’ Henry thought to himself as he hesitantly entered into the mystifying world of fine dining. He went into a pleasant kind of hypnosis as the sites and smells of the classy Italian-American restaurant overtook him upon his entrance into the classy new environment. Although his physical appearance lacked class, Henry felt like a million bucks as he stood before the hostess booth and awaited being seated. He figured he’d request a small booth somewhere off in the corner so that he could avoid as much unwanted attention as possible. After all, it wasn’t everyday that Henry had the opportunity to sit amongst the seemingly rich and famous. He wanted to enjoy a fantastic meal without being gawked at by a bunch of ritzies.

The hostess finally approached him from somewhere beyond the kitchen. She was a gorgeous young girl, blonde, petite, and looking sleek in the short black skirt and matching black blazer that she wore with such pride. Henry figured she was somewhere in her early twenties. Under usual circumstances, Henry would have made some sexist comment about how hot she looked, but he didn’t want to ruin his chances of sitting down to a delectable meal, so he decided that this time he would just have to keep his mouth shut. The Hostess looked Henry over with an interpretive eye as if thinking to herself ‘Look what the cat dragged in this time…’ Henry could sense an unkindly sneer coming on to her beautifully made over face that she then quickly exchanged for a bitter smile. Upon his request, Henry Frizzel was seated in the furthest, darkest corner that was barely recognizable in the dimly lit dining room of Franco’s Italian Eatery. He figured that the Hostess probably would have seated him there even if he hadn’t asked. Once seated, Henry started out by ordering a glass of the most expensive red wine that was offered on the menu. The server gave him a list of several appetizers that he could choose from to start off with. Henry decided on passing and heading straight into the entrees. He ordered a plate of rosemary chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, and baked asparagus and greens- cooked only by the most admirable of Gold Seal Chefs, of course. The waiter quickly jotted down Henry’s carefully thought out order and then disappeared into the kitchen.

After several minutes of patiently awaiting what was to be the epiphany of meals, Henry became nervous about his surroundings. He felt as if everyone in the dining room of Franco’s Italian Eatery was staring at him. Their judging eyes burning away at his flesh. He got up and quickly found the rest room. After rinsing his hot flesh with a cool dowse of water Henry went back to his seat, crossed his hands in front of him on the table and avoided making contact with anyone. However, he couldn’t help but notice the breathtaking image of a beautiful head of glossy auburn hair that belonged to a beautiful young girl who he sensed had self-esteem issues having to do with size. Henry had known for the greater part of his life what it had been like to be big. He dealt with the ridicule from his father and his peers as a child and used it as part of his ambition to become rich, mean, and powerful. Henry and the girl shared a daze that, after only seconds, felt as if it had went on forever. Her icy stare gave Henry the chills so he quickly broke their mutual gaze and focused his attention to the table in front of him. He knew from previous harsh brushes with reality how ritzies could be towards his own kind. Just last week he’d picked up a copy of the Sun that an elderly man had left on a bus bench. The cover story was about a group of aged twenty something or so University Honor students were charged for assault with a weapon and manslaughter for beating a homeless man to death with a baseball bat and a tire iron. The thought of such things made Henry cringe. If there was at least one thing that Henry had learned from his father growing up, it was that bad shit can and most likely will happen to anybody, especially the people who deserve it the least. Never assume that you’re safe in a world where it’s every man for himself. His father would say after a day on the job, while downing a bottle of JD and listening to old Johnny Cash vinyls on the antique record player that he had kept in mint condition since before Henry was even born.

Henry’s father would come out of the bedroom stumbling drunkenly, yelling and cursing at Henry’s mother with a leather belt wrapped around his knuckles. Henry had learned that it was best not to defend his Mother no matter how much it hurt him to see her get beaten so badly. So he would lock himself in his bedroom closet and pray to the good lord that one day he would be a rich honorable man, while his father would become old and powerless, and he would act as if he had never known the man. Eventually Henry had gotten what he had wished for all of those years locked away in that stale-smelling closet, with no light and the shadows of monsters lurking all around him. His mother could no longer bare the pain, committing suicide just after Henry had turned twenty five. His father suffered severe liver failure five years later before Henry’s thirty first birthday. Business went well for several years. Henry Frizzel finally wed the woman of his dreams. Then everything that Henry had to count on unraveled before his eyes and he was left with a closet full of expensive suits, an empty wallet, and a broken heart. Now here he was thrilled about finally being given the opportunity to eat a decent meal in a restaurant where people looked at him as if he was part of a different species. Henry was amused at how quick one’s luck could change. He couldn’t help but make fun of his own misfortune; it made him feel better about a lot of things.

Henry snapped out of the self-pitying daze that he had fallen into as the waiter set a generously sized dinner plate full of food down in front of him. Henry felt his eyes well up with tears and he thanked the waiter and admired the culinary masterpiece that he was about to indulge in. He even said a small prayer to himself before digging his knife and fork into the delightfully aromatic rosemary chicken. The meal was heavenly. Just as Henry was about to finish off the last of his baked asparagus and greens, he felt a tickle in the back of his throat as he swallowed the final cut of rosemary chicken. A mixture of hot sauce and spices burned the back of his throat. Panic cast a dark shadow upon the road maps of his aging, wrinkled face. His stood up, hands grasping his throat as if he was being strangled by some invisible mad man with asphyxiation in mind. Heads turned towards him as the judging eyes strangers burned his flesh, scarring him, making him want to disappear back into the uninviting arms of the lonesome streets. The streets and the people who knew them well would never scar his dirty flesh with hateful eyes. Henry was helpless as he tried with all of his will to swallow the delicious death that clogged his throat and threatened the remainder of his worthless life.

Henry figured that not a single person in the room would help him. He believed that most of them had been trained in CPR but none of them had been trained in Compassion for Humanity 101. They all stared in astonishment as Henry Frizzel fought for his life. Someone whom he could not see suggest calling and ambulance. Henry wasn’t sure if an ambulance would make it in time. His vision blurred, the dining room of gawking faces barely recognizable to him in the dim white light. They all looked like laughing masks, pointing there fingers and refusing to get close. Just before Henry Frizzel passed out, that beautiful girl with the glossy auburn hair was making her way closer towards him. She was running. She had a cell phone in one hand and her other hand was being used to push the gawking faces away.

Henry awoke at the memorial hospital with a headache and a full stomach. His mind drew blanks as he tried to remember what had happened and how he had ended up in the hospital. The uniformity of white walls and green sheets made things more difficult to put into place. Henry stood up and reached for his pants. A doctor walked in looking pleased to see Henry recovering well.

“What happened? Why am I here?” Henry asked, puzzled and a bit angry about the situation,
“Well Sir, let’s just say that you are lucky to be alive. You almost died.”

“What? But How?! What do you mean I almost died? I was eating dinner by myself at Franco’s…and…”

“Well emergency response got an anonymous call from a well-known Italian Eatery across town called Franco’s. The caller claimed to have a choking victim present who was in need of instant medical attention. So I’m told anyway. I just do what I can to keep em’ alive and if I can’t then I figure out what to do with em’ if they’re dead... doctor’s deeds.”

“Well do you know who it was that placed the call? Because I wasn’t with anybody and I don’t have any family…”

“Yes, in fact, I forgot to mention…You have a guest waiting out in the lobby for you. She says that you may be surprised to see her.”

Henry had no idea who the doctor was talking about. He didn’t remember being with anyone when he went to the restaurant, or meeting up with anyone when he got there, or even so much as talking to- Then a vague image of beautiful auburn hair flooded his mind and he remembered the girl in the dining room with the ice blue gaze that lingered over him as he crossed the dining room back to his seat in the shady two person booth that only he had occupied. He had gotten chills from that icy gaze of hers that had held on with a fierce grip. There she was standing before him as he entered the waiting room, curious to know the identity of the mysterious stranger with the mesmerizing head of auburn colored hair whom he could not put out of his mind. The face that belonged to that gorgeous mane was tainted by a deep look of concern. The true beauty of that face had been revealed through the courageous actions that a young girl took in order to save a man’s life. That beauty was now concealed by a dark mask of dismay- however those eyes, those blue eyes proved that a hero she was. A hero-people would get to know and recognize her as. The young girl, in search of a greater purpose in life, who took a chance and saved a life, her bravery impressed Henry as nothing ever had before.

“My name is Henry Frizzel and I don’t know how I could possibly thank you for saving my life, as worthless as a life as it may be-…well…anyway…Thank you.” Henry took the girl’s hand and smiled. He couldn’t remember a single time in his life where he had ever been so grateful to be alive and to be in the presence of another human being.

“I don’t know what to say Mr. Frizzel. I don’t know what came over me. You seemed so helpless, I would never be so heartless as to ignore another human being in need. That would be inhumane. It’s been a pleasure meeting you…and saving your life.” Andrea said with a laugh. “But I should be on my way now. My mother fainted at the site of me performing CPR on you in the middle of the dining room at Franco’s. The police had to take her home before she suffered an anxiety attack. My mother’s very panic-stricken like that. God knows what would happen to her if she didn’t have me around to take care of her.”

“Well miss- I’m sorry I don’t think I caught your name yet…”

“It’s Andrea. Andrea Wilson.”

“Well Miss Wilson I just want you to know that this whole experience has completely altered my perspective of life. I think that now that I’ve almost died, I’ve gained a new found appreciation for life. I’m going to get out there and make the most of my life while I still can.” Thank you so much for everything that you’ve done for me.” With that, Andrea Wilson and Henry Frizzel went their separate ways as two complete strangers living two completely different lives. Henry had his new improved outlook on life- maybe things could really get better with a little bit of effort. And Andrea had her exhilarating new sense of heroism. Courage pumped rapidly through her blood. She had finally found the purpose that she had been desperately searching for for so long. Things seemed as though they were finally falling into place. Just as Henry Frizzel had predicted, his time had finally come. It was time for him to get back on his feet and make something of himself again.

One month later Andrea was making excellent progress adapting to University life. Her grades were at there all time highest since her senior year. Andrea and her mother had kept up with their tradition of Saturday afternoon lunches together, only now they tried to make it a point to stay clear of well-known Italian Eateries where lots of ritzies dined regularly. Henry had been hired on as an executive sales consultant for The Demco Corporation. Business was growing and Henry’s reputation as a well-rounded master of sales was becoming well known by everyone of importance at the office. Henry felt like he had been given a second chance and he had Andrea to thank for that. They never saw each other again after that afternoon at the hospital; the same afternoon that a confused young lady saved the life of an almost hopeless middle-aged man. The pieces of the perplexing puzzle of life had fit together that day. The timing was just right for a miracle to happen , a miracle that would steer fate in the direction of destiny.

Henry Frizzel was back at the top of the world as he liked to think of it. Almost eight months had past from the almost tragic events that took place that afternoon at Franco’s Italian Eatery. Henry woke one morning to find himself in a particularly pleasant mood. He showered, shaved, and prepared for a productive day before getting into his brand new jet black BMW that the company had bought him as a sort of passing initiation into the company gift. Thing’s really were turning out to be great for Henry. The sun was shining, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Ever since the day of his near death experience, Henry never doubted that fate would never fail him. He knew that things would work out as they were supposed to. Henry planned to make a quick stop at Franco’s that morning for breakfast. Henry Frizzel became one of the well know ritzies that frequently dined at Franco’s since he had cleaned up and created an honorable reputation for himself. Now that he had money, he was back in control. And as Henry had always promised himself, he would spit on his father’s grave once that bastard dropped dead. Revenge sure is sweet, but sweeter when you got something to show for all the hard times that you’ve gotten through. Henry would often think to himself.

Henry Frizzel pulled into the Members Only section of Franco’s parking lot at 8:30 am on a Tuesday exactly eight months after he had almost died as a choking victim at Franco’s Italian Eatery. Henry hated to admit it, but for the first few weeks following his near death experience he had wondered if it was really possible to escape death. He wondered if fate played a part at trying to control his chosen destiny or if he had just gotten lucky and managed to cheat death. If he had managed to escape from his chosen destiny…Then death would be awaiting him else where. He worried that at any moment the grim reaper would be awaiting him around the corner after work or before bed or at the grocery store on a Sunday afternoon. Was it true? Could death really be waiting for me right around the corner? But the days passed, turning into weeks and forming the months that bridged the gap between now and then. Henry became too busy with transforming back into the same high strung, ignorant workaholic that he had once been. Henry got out of his BMW, locked the doors and rolled up the tinted windows before crossing the parking lot which led to the alley way that contained the V.I.P. entrance into Franco’s.

He noticed a group of street kids standing around the dumpsters smoking up. Henry was tough, but he sure as hell wasn’t stupid enough to mess with street kids that hung out in back alleys and dug for scraps in restaurant dumpsters. Most of them were crack heads, some of them heroine addicts. They all came from either broken homes or no homes. Henry remembered meeting a street kid who was called ‘RAT’ – the kid wasn’t even twelve years old. They shared life stories over a few left over bits of a chicken dinner that they had found while digging through a dumpster on the other side of town together. Henry hated remembering that time in his life. It all just seemed like a bad dream now, distant in his mind, but still hiding in the shadows of the past. He hated being around those grungy street kids mostly because they reminded him of himself. Henry put the discomforting thoughts behind him and continued on his way. As he walked past the dumpster one of the delinquents yelled something at him. Then they had Henry surrounded. One of them managed to snag his wallet out of his back pocket and began passing it around the group. Each of them went through its contents like savage animals.

“Cut that out you little punks, gimme my wallet back or I swear I will have you all arrested and thrown in Juvi.” Henry said panicking.

“Oh yeah? Well I think you’re bluffing Richie Rich, and besides, how you gonna call the cops without this? The familiar looking street kid said tauntingly as he threw Henry Frizzel’s cell phone into the dumpster. Henry knew that face, that voice. He remembered the scrawny, red haired boy from that night in the slums when the two strangers shared food scrapes and life stories.

“…Wait…I know you…We’ve met before…RAT…It’s me, Henry…don’t you remember? Can’t we just talk about this…Look, I’ll give you kids whatever you want, I just don’t want any trouble.” Henry pleaded, suddenly well aware of the class differences in society.

“How the hell do you know my name!?”

“Hey RAT, looks like you got a ritzie stalking you…Maybe you could use that to your advantage…Or maybe we can just help you get rid of him.” One of the other hoodlums announced.


Henry Frizzel was a pitiful mouse, surrounded by malicious, hungry alley cats. There was no where to run and no one around to save him this time. The group of hoodlums closed in on him. It started out as a few rough punches to the face, he was well aware of the searing hot pain that burned throughout his face. His nose was broken first. Then Henry was on the ground tasting pavement. His vision became blurry and his hearing was lost. Henry Frizzel could barely feel the warm, thick blood drizzling out from his ear and down the side of his face. Henry believed that the worst of it was over…until he made out the vague image of a figure holding some sort of weapon in his hand. The figure had red hair and a huge grin painted on the pallid-skeletal mask that was his face. Henry knew that if he were to carry one very vivid memory with him into the after life, it was to be the image of that figure closing in on his frail, dying body with a tire iron in one hand and a fat wad of Henry’s hard earned money in the other. Henry was still alive enough to feel the organ busting blows of the tire iron. It came ruthlessly crashing down on his bruised skull one last time before it was all over.

Andrea Wilson woke the next morning in the same chipper mood that she had been in since the day of the incident at Franco’s. Months had passed, never seeming to change how sure of herself she had felt since that day. She rolled out of bed, put a pot of coffee on, and went downstairs into the main lobby of the student residents to pick up a copy of The Sun. When Andrea got back to her room, she was pleased to find that her coffee was ready and she had some left over cheesecake from yesterdays lunch date with her Mother. She poured herself a cup of coffee and cut a sliver of cheesecake for herself before sitting down to read the paper at her one person kitchen table. She opened The Sun to the feature story section to see what was new and exciting in the ever-changing world today. The first headline read:

Middle-aged Man Murdered in Cold Blood Outside of Popular Italian Eatery
The body of 43 year old Mr. Henry Frizzel was found in the back alley outside of popular Italian Eatery Franco’s this morning. There were no known witnesses to the crime and authorities hope that if anyone has any information regarding the where-abouts of the murderers please contact the local police department…

Henry Frizzel…Now why does that name sound so…..Andrea lost control of herself and the clay mug of steaming hot coffee shattered as it hit the floor. She dropped the newspaper and covered her mouth with one hand as if to hold herself back from upchucking. Her mind flashed back to the dimly lit dining room at Franco’s where she yelled at onlookers to clear the way…There she was, white blouse stained with red whine as she performed CPR on the choking victim…Henry Frizzel…Henry Frizzel was the man who’s life you saved. Then she thought back to the conversation her and Henry Frizzel had in the waiting room at the hospital that day….something about a second chance. He said he had been given a second chance, an opportunity to redeem himself…and that he had escaped death. But it’s impossible to escape death. You can get away temporarily…But fate chooses ones destiny. Fate had its mind made up about Henry Frizzel. That day at Franco’s was Henry’s day to die, but he had escaped, and finally…Fate caught up with him. Henry Frizzel was beaten to death that morning in the alley outside of Franco’s. All of the people who read the headline about Henry thought of it as nothing more than another tragic tale about a middle-aged man who was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. But Andrea Wilson was the only one who knew that Henry Frizzel was facing his own destiny that day, and that death had finally found him.