Barney Frank Was Like No One Else

When former Representative Barney Frank of Massachusetts died on Tuesday at 86, he was already a human version of a historical artifact. Frank was famous in the late 20th and early 21st centuries, but like most of our­ politicians, he was mostly forgotten once he voluntarily left Congress, 13 years ago. Then suddenly, late last month, Frank was back in the public eye because of a characteristically brash and courageous decision: He announced that he was about to die.Obituary writers had a lot to work with when they wrote about Frank’s unconventional life and career. One obvious subject was Frank’s homosexuality, the source of much of the drama in his life. Another obvious topic was Frank’s gift for humor and wisecracks. And most significant was his imposing intellect, which usually made him the smartest man in the room, whatever the room. These were all rare attributes for a member of the modern-day House and Senate, where partisan banality reigns. In his distinctive manner, Barney Frank was a towering figure, although his own figure was usually bulging, and came packaged in wrinkled suits and deeply scuffed shoes.Here I should pause to explain my relationship with Frank, which goes back to the first year of John F. Kennedy’s presidency: 1961, when I was 18 years old and Frank was 21. We were delegates to a convention of college students—mostly elected officers of student governments, though nobody had elected Frank or me. The event was called the National Student Congress. I quickly realized that Frank was a star of the show. That was partly because of his quick wit and his knowledge of all the issues that the student delegates would debate, but more substantively because of his mastery of Robert’s Rules of Order, which spelled out procedures for a gathering of this kind. Frank understood, then and years later in the House, that mastery of the rules could be very important at crucial moments.[James Kirchick: Barney Frank’s second coming-out]At the student conferenc