SALISBURY - If a man counted his wealth by the friends who loved him, Frank Murray left this world a rich man.
A quiet, shy man some thought of as homeless, Murray was a treasured part of Stripers Grille and Inn for more than eight years. They may not have been blood relatives, but they were family.
"I noticed Frank the first time about eight years ago," said Steve Kuchar, who owns Stripers with his wife, Lisa Reinhold. "He was picking out the bottles. I smiled at him. He nodded, but that was all. He was very shy, but little by little each day he softened up. We'd talk a little. Then one day I told him I had some more bottles in the cellar if he wanted to take them back.
"Slowly it grew from there. He'd come by every day for the bottles, then he began doing odd jobs for us. I think he missed eight days in all those years. He'd sweep the parking lot; he'd straighten out the cellar, things like that."
"We had the cleanest basement in Massachusetts," Reinhold said.
The smile on their faces when they spoke of their years with Murray were betrayed by the tears glistening in their eyes. Murray died of a heart attack March 10 while riding his bike over the Gillis Bridge toward Stripers, something his friends wouldn't learn until more than a week later.
Adopting a new friend
The couple's relationship with Murray became closer about six years ago, when Kuchar finally insisted Murray stay in one of the rooms at the inn during the winter. No money changed hands.
"That was after he disappeared for five days," Reinhold said. "We were frantic. Steve called the police, and we looked everywhere for him. When he finally came back, he looked awful. He'd been really sick."
After that, Kuchar put his foot down. He told Murray during the cold months of the year he'd be staying in the inn. They had to bring in the big guns to persuade Murray to accept the offer; Kuchar told Murray with staff member Debbie Maguire beside him.
Murray had a special spot in his heart for Maguire. He'd give her a little gift each Friday, just something small he'd pick up when he'd ride his bike to Wal-Mart, his favorite store. It was a key chain, maybe, or an ankle bracelet.
"I still have that ankle bracelet," Maguire said softly. "I still wear it."
So life went on for Stripers and Murray. In the winter he lived with his Stripers family. They never really knew where Murray lived in the summer, but he was at Stripers every day to lend a helping hand, and he'd work odd jobs at a go-cart park at Salisbury beach.
"We never pushed him about where he went, or where he came from, or what happened in his life," Kuchar said. "He told my dad once he'd been a caddy, but that he loved the water so he liked it here. We didn't even know what his last name was until we read it in the obituary."
Something wasn't right
Murray died while Stripers was being renovated. The work started Feb. 19 and ended with the reopening on Monday. As handy as Murray was, he disappeared during the construction period, even though he was living in the inn and was invited to join in.
"It was too much for him here during the renovations, too overwhelming," Kuchar said. "There were just too many people here. Frank was very private."
It wasn't until the restaurant reopened that Kuchar and Reinhold realized something wasn't right.
"We looked around and said, 'Wait a minute. Where's Frank?'" Reinhold said.
Then they heard someone had suffered a heart attack while riding a bike over the Gillis Bridge in Newburyport. Murray rode his bike everywhere - from Newburyport to Rye, N.H.
"One of the men on the bridge noticed Frank get off his bike and rest his head on the handle bars," Reinhold said. "The man went over to see if he was all right. That's when Frank collapsed. I'm glad the man was with him. It means Frank wasn't alone when he died."
Help was called, but Murray's big heart never beat again. The body was brought to Anna Jaques Hospital. Luckily, Murray had his social security card with him, but there was no one for the hospital to call about his passing. The hospital called the Paul Rogers Funeral Home in Amesbury.
"The hospital called us and asked us to help, but they said he had no one," Rose Rogers said. "My heart sank. In all my years - and I've been in this business for 30 years - I'd never come across someone who had no one. It hurt me. I had to try to find his family."
Not forgotten
Rogers did some sleuthing. Murray's social security card helped her trace Murray to his birth in Beverly, on March 11, 1932. He was the son of the late John F. and Nora T. (Donahue) Murray. But they were dead, and she could not find one living family member.
"Then they called from Stripers because they'd heard we had the body of the man who'd died on the bridge," Rogers said. "They asked if they could come over to view the body."
Maguire and Dorothy Mugavera went to see Murray. The Rogers had embalmed him, dressed him in a suit and placed him in a casket. The plan was for the Rogers to bury him in a grave they'd buy in Amesbury.
"They said, 'We've been his family for the past eight years. He was our family. He belongs with us,'" Rogers said. "They planned the service for him at Star of the Sea Church in Salisbury. They didn't want him to be buried all alone. They wanted to cremate him and keep his ashes with them."
Although Kuchar tried to reimburse the Rogers' for their expenses, Kuchar said they wouldn't hear of it. Rogers said it was her pleasure to do her part to help Frank Murray find his family and his way home to the people who loved him.
Fliers went up at the restaurant announcing Murray's service, and an ad was placed in the Daily News to alert those who knew and loved Frank Murray of the plans.
"You are invited to join us ... at Star of the Sea Church in Salisbury to celebrate the life of our dear friend and resident Francis (Frank) Murray ... ," the ad read.
Customers came, as did those who knew him. His life is over, but he won't be forgotten.
"People said he was homeless," Rogers said. "But he wasn't. He was neat and clean, and he was a member of their family at Stripers. ... I told them not to be sad. He actually had a little smile on his face. He had found his way home, I told them. It really was a happy ending."
"He was a good man," Kuchar said. "I miss him as much as I miss family I've lost. It's so hard that he's not here."
"He's going to be missed," Reinhold said. "It just won't be the same here without him."
If anyone has information about Frank Murray or his family, please contact Angeljean Chiaramida at 978-462-6666, ext. 3271 or achiaramida@ecnnews.com.
