Mr Fritz....

How many people have the opportunity to grow up at a campground? Okay, well maybe I was already "grown up" when my parents bought the place in 1995 (I was 20...so yes do the math I am 50 now). But I do feel like I did a lot of growing up there. And one person in particular who is part of so many of my early memories and laughable stories was Mr. Fritz.

My Fritz, aka Chief Fuzzy Butt arrived on the scene well before me. He had been visiting 5 Branches Camper Park since long before with his wife Ruthie and daughter Debbie. He is around 95 now (and still living as I write this) so that makes him about 50ish when he first started visiting. Cue to 1995 and that first summer I learned to gamble (yup under age), fish (put the hook through the gills of the waterdog and you won't kill it), drink sips of crappy beer (sorry mom and dad) and most importantly how to yell at folks to get out of the way as we came barreling down the front hill. "NO BRAKES!!!" Mr. Fritz played center stage in so many of my early memories.

It is hard to believe so many years have gone by and this will be the first year in 3 decades that Mr. Fritz is not well enough to travel to 5 Branches. So, for all out there with a Mr. Fritz of your own who has helped to fill your memory banks, toss one back with a country song and something far superior to Old Milwaukee's Best in your hands.

We'll miss you this summer Mr. Fritz.