It was a seasonably warm Saturday in Chicago when 250,000 people gathered in Grant Park for the No Kings protest. Among the participants was Fran Pryor, owner of the now-closed Arbor Vitae, Java and Juice on Jackson in Naperville.
She shared photos of the gathering through a text message to her closest friends, images that showed peaceful protesters carrying signs, some humorous, some bitingly direct, all conveying a similar message addressing the current policies in place today.
One photo showed an attendee in an inflatable frog costume, a symbol of frivolity used to counteract the rhetoric that these rallies beget violence. Another showed a beaming Fran, holding her handmade sign and fighting for what she believed in.
Jump cut to six days later. All 17 people on Fran’s text thread received another text, only this time it was not from Fran. The cryptic message came from a woman named Mina, a neighbor who was trying to locate Fran’s son. Responses came from concerned friends who were using their own resources to try to reach Bill, who was living overseas. One texter asked repeatedly, “Is Fran OK? Is Fran OK? Is Fran OK?” It was an unanswered question until family members were notified.
That’s how I found out that Fran had passed away. Fran, at 81 years old, was a lifelong learner and optimist who always saw the glass as completely full. She embraced new challenges: after her daughter Theresa and her husband Bill passed away in the 2010s, she moved downtown to be close to her daughter, Jennifer, who resides at Misericordia.
Fran returned to Naperville every September to serve breakfast to the participants of the Riverwalk Fine Art Fair. Her muffins, yogurts, juices and fruits put smiles on the faces of the artists as they lined up to experience her hot Wild Ass Coffee, her warm spirit, and her 6:30AM pep talks.
She had planned to return to the fair in 2026, but sadly, that is not to be.
So, to Fran, a woman born of strength and conviction who spent her last remaining days fighting for what she believed in, I say, “Peace to you, my friend. You can rest now, we will take it from here . . .”
