Mr. and Mrs. Fritze

This is another photo from last night's treasure hunt. The picture was taken at Mr. and Mrs. Fritze's house six houses up the street from our house. The neighbors got together and threw a surprise anniversary party for them. At their house. That is hilarious! I loved both of these people. They were also my family. 

I knew every inch of that house having spent almost as much time there as in my own home. I sometimes still dream about being there, walking through the rooms. It was a wonderful place for me with Grandma Davi ironing in the kitchen and always cooking something authentically Italian.Their daughter Patty was my best friend then and is now officially my sister-friend. She is stuck with me forever. Patty has two brothers as well, so we would play war in their backyard jungle or set up disgusting halloween fun in the garage. Patty always seemed to have puppies or kittens so how could I not love being there. 

Mr. Fritze was one of the kindest people. I really don't believe he had a mean bone in his body. He wasn't a suit and tie guy like my dad. If I remember correctly, he was a truck driver and was always bringing home something exciting for us kids, like a converted van camper. When he was home, we would run to him begging for money for the ice cream truck and he'd come up with some plan for us to earn the cash. I seem to recall getting a nickel for every palm frond we picked up from the front yard lawn. We'd deliver our yard work labor and he'd deliver the ice cream money. He liked Johnny Cash and would let us play his records in the living room. This was quite thrilling to ten year olds especially when Mr. Cash cussed at the end of one of his songs. I remember Patty, Kelly and I laughing hysterically, like we had just gotten away with murder. Which actually could have come from us listening to Folsom Prison Blues. Hey, it was the 1960's and parents weren't helicopters back in the day. Children, like us, ran in little neighborhood gangs from house to house and when asked what we were up to it usually involved food, swimming or lemonade stand wars. The lemonade stand war of 1969 was especially brutal. But that also is a story for another day.

One of my favorite memories of Mr. and Mrs. Fritze is when they would play cards with my mother. My dad traveled a lot with his work, so it would be my mom and the Fritzes playing cards at our kitchen table. They might start sometime after dinner and Kelly, Patty and I would be running amuck in the house, eating, watching Twilight Zone, making up dance routines and reading comic books. These card games were epic and would go on into the wee hours of the morning. The three of us girls just kept on with our struggle to be the last one awake. 

Mrs. Fritze was my moms Tijuana travel buddy. The two moms would load the five of us kids into the Fritzes station wagon and off we'd go. Forget seatbelts. We were all over that wagon like it was a playground. We'd get a hotel room in San Diego for the night and then cross the border in the morning. It was non-stop shopping and bargaining all day long and we loved it. My mother was fluent in Spanish so it made for easy transactions. Then, towards evening, we'd head back to the hotel for one last night of swimming and sleeping before heading home. 

It all seems like a dream now when I think back on everything. Like a wonderfully amazing dream.