A BRILLIANT MIND, NOT WASTED

I miss my friend, Frank Wermeling. I especially miss him today. On the Friday night before the Derby he would buy a Racing Form and study it thoroughly. Frank had a knack as a handicapper. On Saturday he would call or text me with the various wagers and exotics to place my money on. He kept his betting records like an accountant, even taking into consideration parking, programs and gas to the track. He said he never had a huge margin but managed to stay slightly ahead each year.

I do not remember when or where I first met Frank, but I do know it was in 1972. We were both working on the George McGovern Presidential Campaign. I made a lot of friends during the fall of 1972 so nothing really stands out.

The first vivid memory I have of Frank was from the mid-1980s. One morning I ran into Frank outside of the Fourth Floor District Court Room in the Kenton County Courthouse. I knew his wife at the time, also an attorney had been diagnosed with a debilitating illness. No one else was in the hallway but us. As we spoke I noticed that Frank wreaked of alcohol. He spoke with that same intellect as he always did, but it was obvious he had problems. It got worse and in 1986 the Kentucky Supreme Court issued an Order suspending Frank from the practice of law.

After that I lost contact with Frank and in August 1988 I took a job with the Kentucky Justice Cabinet and moved to Lexington. In the early 1990s our paths crossed again. Frank was working as a law clerk for my brother Bill in his Park Hills office. That is when I came to realize that Frank was a master of legal research and a phenomenal writer of legal briefs. At that time Frank wore his hair in a ponytail all the way down his back. Like a recluse he holed up in his second floor office with his computer, surrounded by books and files.

Over the next five years our friendship grew. Frank left Bill’s employ and began doing freelance work from his home for multiple attorneys. Frank also became prolific at handling Social Security cases, which did not require a law license. Frank did apply for readmission to the Bar. At his hearing in Lexington Bill and I along with Pat Flannery and David Garnett testified on his behalf. I was never sure if it was because he was delinquent in his child support or just the fact that the then Bar counsel and he had a tenuous relationship, but his reapplication was denied.

Frank was a true genius. He was a graduate of Covington Latin School, Thomas More College and UK College of Law. Around 2000 I began putting Frank’s brilliant mind to use, primarily in writing briefs but also working on personal injury cases. We became a pretty good team. Frank would travel to Frankfort regularly and I would generally come to Covington once or twice a month. We had some nice triumphs, but I have always felt that our greatest success was in the case of Joshua Popp v. Commonwealth, 2006–SC-000311.

Josh was indicted in Franklin County. I tried the case and Mr. Popp was convicted of raping, sodomizing and sexually abusing his 6 year old step daughter. He was sentenced to 30 years in prison. There was no physical evidence and the allegations were raised by her father during a discussion with her at a restaurant. The case was tried in front of Hon. William Graham. Judge Graham, who I always considered an excellent judge, allowed an over-zealous assistant Commonwealth’s attorney to introduce hearsay statements by a social worker in an attempt to bolster the girls’ testimony and he allowed the introduction of opinion evidence from a police officer regarding the girl’s credibility.

Frank worked tirelessly on the brief shaping arguments that shredded the improper introduction of prosecution’s evidence. In 2008 the Kentucky Supreme Court issued a 6-0 opinion reversing the conviction on all counts. The late Justice Wil Schroder would later tell me that when the case first came before the Court he was the only one who saw a need for reversal but was able to sway his fellow members to join him. Frank’s work saved a life. On remand, Mr. Popp pled to a non-violent, non-sexual offense and was sentenced to time served.

Frank Wermeling feared nothing. He spoke his mind to all, no matter how powerful, no matter how important, no matter how physically imposing. And yet there was the dichotomy of how he lived the last 25 years of his life. Frank once told me, “I never met a drug I didn’t like.” After that rough period Alcoholics Anonymous became the part of his life that overshadowed everything else. His commitment, his devotion, his need to help others made him a guru of AA. He attended meeting all over greater Cincinnati. He travelled to and spoke at national conventions. He was a sponsor for so many. He served as Vice President of the Disabilities Coalition of Northern Kentucky. He lived just a few blocks from the homeless shelters and soup kitchens on Pike Street. His house on Russell Street in Covington was like a haven. At any hour, day or night, those in need were welcome. There was always a pot of coffee made. There was always a seat on is couch. He gave love, but hard love.

But still Frank reveled in life. There are 2 memorable moments of pure joy that stick with me more than others. The first was his marriage to the love of his life, Linda in 1999. The second was when I took him to Foxwoods Casino in Connecticut, where we played in a World Poker Tour 50 and over Poker Tournament.

Frank’s years of hard living, particularly the smoking eventually caught up with him. Try as he could quitting was difficult. In the last few years of his life he would still come to Frankfort when I needed him. He was on oxygen for his COPD and he brought his oxygen with him. On February 16 2014 Linda called me and told me he was gone. He was 62 years old. It could not have come at a worse time for me. In late January I had my hip replacement and shortly afterward found out about Luke’s newfound passion for Xanax. It would have meant so much to Luke and me to have Frank around to provide Luke guidance and counsel on this subject.

. On this day when millions of us will stand and sing and cry as we hear a song written by a musical genius who died of at the age of 37, we should not mourn the loss of Frank Wermeling that came way too soon or those low periods of his life soon but take joy in all that he added to the lives of so many others.

As Frank would say, “That’s right.”