Frank Lowell sits in his shop, located on the first floor of his barn in Jefferson. As Lowell Electronics, Lowell has made a living servicing all manner of receivers, stereos, amplifiers, and vintage radios. (Sherwood Olin photo)
Frank Lowell lives in the barn on the property his parents left to him on Route 215 in Jefferson. The handsome looking white farmhouse next to the barn is vacant, as Lowell has crafted a comfortable apartment for himself on the barn’s second floor.
The house is in good condition, but it has some issues, and the barn offered an irresistible blank canvas, Lowell said.
“I started out from scratch,” he said. “I got a wide open building with nothing in it to start with, as opposed to this whole place that’s already built. I’m way happier in here.”
Lowell works out of the barn’s first floor, where his shop is located. At Lowell Electronics, he services all manner of receivers, stereos, amplifiers, and vintage radios. When he has musician friends over to play, part of the shop becomes an informal studio.
Living alone on the 100-acre farm, Lowell is almost entirely self sufficient. He supplements his income from the shop by selling hay from his fields. He grows his own vegetables, preserving what he doesn’t eat, and supplies his own wood for the winter, buying a wood splitter only last year to help speed up the process.
“I’ve been very fortunate my whole life,” Lowell said. “I got this farm dumped in my lap. All I have to do is pay property taxes and hang on to it.”
Lowell grew up in Jefferson and, except for brief periods, has lived in the town most of his life.
Lowell’s mother, Mildred Rosenquist, was born in Jefferson. His father, Burwell, was from Erie, Penn. The couple met when both worked in the same building in New York City. As newlyweds, they settled originally in Flushing, Long Island, before moving to Jefferson in 1942.
“About 1942 they saved up enough money; they decided they’re going to come up here and look for a place to live,” Lowell said. “So, they come up here, and there’s this place for sale, and Pearl Bailey’s a mile down the road. So at the same time my parents are looking for a place, Pearl and Thelma (Bailey) are looking for a place to live. They check this place out, and Thelma says, ‘I don’t like the house. It’s too gloomy.’ So that’s how I wound up here. They bought this place because Thelma and Pearl Bailey bought their place. I could be living down there.”
Calling him one of the greatest men he ever knew, Lowell said his father was an intelligent, inquisitive man who passed on a love for learning and science to his son.
“He’s the one that got me interested in radio in the first place,” he said. “I think I was 9 when I built my first radio. It didn’t work, but it got me started anyways.”
Lowell had better luck as a 12-year-old when he responded to an ad in the back of the Popular Science magazine, sending away for a do-it-yourself radio kit. Lowell put hours into assembling the kit and, more than 60 years later, became emotional recalling the euphoria of that first success.
“I got that and, I think, for hours and hours man, I put it all together,” he said. “It broadcast. It had shortwave. It worked! My cousin had these old I think it was Murdoch headphones, 600 ohm headphones. It had two prongs and I hooked them up. My father, he helps me set up a pole in the yard out front of the farmhouse, like 50 feet out, and we string up this antenna. It was awesome.”
Lowell did well in school, graduating from Lincoln Academy in 1965. However, he did not do as well in college, returning home in 1967 just as the Vietnam War was ramping up. Without a student draft deferment, he was swiftly recategorized 1-A, and, almost as swiftly, received his draft notice, ordering him to report for induction into the Army that November.
Preferring the Air Force to the Army, he enlisted instead. He did well on his qualifying exams, studied electronics, and wound up a seven-level missile guidance and control specialist. His tour of duty included an 18-month assignment in Thailand and another nine months in Danang, Vietnam.
At both bases, his job was the same: arm the ordinance and deliver it to the flight line. For many soldiers Vietnam was hell on Earth, but Lowell had a comparatively easy time of it. He was never in combat, and he said he thought Thailand was one of the most beautiful places on Earth.
“I had it good compared to all the Army guys and Marines,” he said. “I got to tell you, Thailand was the best year and a half of my life. That was the most amazing place. It is such a completely different world. I could go off base. I could go anywhere I wanted. One day off, every Thursday, walk out the main gate, jump on the bus, go somewhere. People are great. The scenery is beautiful … Some of the best food I have ever had.”
Lowell remembers his father driving him to the Portland Jetport in zero-degree weather Dec. 4, 1968. Three days later, he got off a plane in Thailand at 6 a.m., stepping into 85 degree heat with suffocating humidity. It took him three weeks to acclimate to the conditions, Lowell said.
In June 1970, when his tour in Thailand ended, Lowell returned to the United States. Offered his choice of stations, he asked for Loring Air Force Base in Limestone or Otis Air Force Base in Massachusetts. He was sent to McChord Air Force Base near Tacoma, Wash.
Lowell acknowledged he wasn’t enthusiastic about reporting for duty in Washington, and the first impression of his new post left a great deal to be desired.
“Driving across country, I smashed into another car,” he said. “That took another day. I got my cash drained out. I wind up, I roll into the base. I got a quarter tank of gas and about 50 cents, and I got about three hours before I’m AWOL. I sign in and it’s raining like hell.
I’m like, ‘Get me out of here.’”
Unable to get back to Thailand, Lowell volunteered for duty in Danang, agreeing to extend his hitch by four months in order to take the assignment. It was a small price to pay for getting out of Washington, he said.
By the time Lowell mustered out in 1972, his perception of the war had changed and he was disillusioned with the war effort. He recalled being aghast when some of his fellow soldiers laughed while watching combat footage showing the damage from the missiles they prepared. He called it a “turning point” in his perception.
“I’m thinking, ‘When did this become entertainment?’” he said. “How can this be funny? That’s when I started thinking differently. By the time I got out, I was rooting for the protesters. I was a pissed off vet and I came home and I just buried it in sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Anything but be, I don’t know, responsible.”
When the Iraq War brought a bunch of those feelings back 30 years later, Lowell poured his emotions into a burst of songwriting, completing about 30 songs between 2004 and 2012. He used an old player piano someone brought to him to repair to help him figure out the chords he needed.
“That was my therapy, writing them songs,” he said. “Since then, I felt pretty good about pretty much everything.”
Although he had taken some piano lessons as a child and he started playing bass in the military when some musician friends put a bass guitar in his hands, Lowell does not call himself a musician.
“I’ll tell you what, I thought I was a musician for a long time, but I come to realize I’m not an artist, all right?” he said. “I’m not gifted in the arts. I’m a scientist. I’m a technician.”
Now 77, Lowell is still in good health. He has a backlog of repairs to get through and still has to lay in wood for the winter. He has a girlfriend whose presence neatly divides his week into periods of domestic tranquility and bachelorhood. His two children live nearby and he gets along with both of his ex wives, he said. Life is good.
“People keep hiring me to fix stuff,” he said. “As long as I can do it, I figure why not?”
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