Richard Frohm
Bio
Writing is my passion. My hope is you find enjoyment in my stories and follow me as my journey to become a better writer continues.
Stories (24)
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So Little Time
With the sky clear, a million stars shining bright and a full moon’s light shining. I made my way through the Fairview cemetery in Halifax. Nova Scotia. I stopped at all one hundred twenty-one headstones, paying my respects for those souls lost. This was the first anniversary of that fateful night 15th of April 1912. Like me, they had been aboard the RMS Titanic. When I reached the last two stones, they read: “Known only to God.” I felt a particular sadness when I read those words.
By Richard Frohmabout a year ago in Marriage
Hannah's Cottage
As I looked out from our kitchen window, I saw the rain had stopped, and the clouds had made way for the sun. The tea kettle whistled just as I finished buttering my cinnamon muffin. Sitting next to me, waiting for any crumbs to fall, was my little girl Kerry, our chocolate lab. "Sorry, girl, no crumbs today. You know your mom has been on me about my messes in the kitchen." Her tail started wagging, and she gazed at me with those big brown eyes. "You are just like your mother. I cannot say no to her either when she looks at me with her deep green eyes."
By Richard Frohm2 years ago in Families
Finally Coming Home
Monday, I hated that day. Especially, a snowy, freezing, miserable December day in Michigan. As I made my way to our break room, I heard the usual. “Morning LT, Morning Lieutenant Flynn, nice day, isn’t it LT?” My people loved to aggravate me. All of them knew until I had my first cup of coffee, I hated to talk. I went into our breakroom, grabbed a coffee mug, and poured a cup of the Elixir of the Gods. Just as I took my first sip, Detective Ellen Johnson interrupted me.
By Richard Frohm3 years ago in Families
Love and Time
As I made my way through Fairview cemetery in Halifax. Nova Scotia. I stopped at all one hundred twenty-one headstones, paying my respects for those souls lost one year earlier on the 15th of April 1912. Like me, they had been aboard the RMS Titanic. When I reached the last stone, it read; “Known only to God.” I felt a particular sadness when I read those words. I looked out towards the ocean with my mind going back to the 11th of April the day I joined the crew of the Titanic when she docked in Queens Town, Ireland.
By Richard Frohm4 years ago in Fiction
Vietnam - The Fight For My Life
Our birthdays are supposed to be happy, celebrations of the day we were born. I hated mine. For my wife and children, I would pretend to enjoy myself. The problem was my mind could never forget the day I turned twenty-two. It was the 25th of April, 1968. I was in South Vietnam’s A Shau Valley.
By Richard Frohm4 years ago in Fiction
The Day That My Life Changed Forever
Walking into the 7-11, I headed for the beer cooler. Glancing towards the cash register, I could see the clerk waiting on two customers. “Perfect.” I opened the cooler door and grabbed two six packs of Stroh’s beer. Before the clerk could even move, I was out the door and headed around back to the alley. Just my luck, there was a Detroit police car headed my way. It didn’t take a brain surgeon, let alone two cops, to figure out I had stolen beer.
By Richard Frohm4 years ago in Fiction
ONE COP - ONE CAR ONE SANTA
Every Christmas, our Fraternal Order of Police post would hold a Christmas party on the Saturday the week before Christmas. It was for the children of our officers. The highlight, even more than the gifts, was the appearance of Santa Claus. Since we could never get the actual Santa to show up. We went with the next best thing. Sgt. Russ Reiterman. He was from the police department just north of ours.
By Richard Frohm4 years ago in Fiction
Just Another Night
As I opened the door to head to the parking lot. I had to catch my breath. I thought it was muggy last night. Tonight was worse. My partner, Chris Baldino, was right behind me. “This weather is frickin ridiculous. Correct me if I am wrong, but aren’t we in Michigan? Because if I didn’t know any better, I would think we are in Georgia.”
By Richard Frohm4 years ago in Fiction
My Nightmares of War
It was at my ninetieth birthday and there I sat at the dining room table, surrounded by my family. When my great-grand son asked me about the war. “Papa, my dad said you flew in a bomber. Did you?” I looked at his little face. “Yes, Papa, flew in a bomber.” Suddenly, the memories I had buried flooded back into my mind. Sitting in my chair, I reached for a napkin as I began to cry and then sob. My son and daughter both came over to me. Denise said, “Dad, are you alright?” “Yes, I will be fine in a second.” Both knew that I had never discussed my time during World War II. Their mother told them I did not want to relive those days. My son said, “Sorry, dad, he did not know about mom’s rule.”
By Richard Frohm4 years ago in Fiction
