Fez Fritsche Band members reminisce

By KURT NESBITT

Journal Staff Writer

NEW ULM -- Their leader, 'Fezz' Fritsche, is long gone but a few of the guys who played with him are still at it more than 60 years later.

All four members of the band's original lineup still live in and around New Ulm and still keep in touch.

But rare is the occasion when all four get together, wives in tow, and sit around a table chewing the fat about the old days. Such an occasion took place over steaks Friday night in Otto's Fierhaus and Bierstube at the Holiday Inn.

Of all four surviving members, the Kahle brothers -- Roman and Marvin -- are still the most active, since they still play music together with Christy Hengel, along with individual gigs with the Original German Band, the Northside Dutchmen and the Over-60 Band. Doug Current still plays his bass horn in the New Ulm Municipal Band. Tex Prahl quit the accordion after his heart attack and can't muster the strength to pick it up anymore.

But everyone still has memories of the days when Fritsche's Schnickel -- Fritz Band traveled the highways of the upper Midwest in their leader's Hudson Terraplane sedan. And Prahl can recall fixing flat tires on the bus that the band later traveled with.

In its heyday, Fritsche's band was one of the best-known polka bands to come out of New Ulm. The saxophone was Fritsche's main horn, although he could play most horns, said his wife, Myra, who donated one of Fritsche's instruments to the Minnesota Music Hall of Fame.

The reunion was organized by Dorothy Kahle, who traveled with Roman and the band for many years.

Talk of the old days switches back and forth, covering a variety of subjects, from what ballroom owners used to clean their floors to the wives being told to leave a place after the show, to practical jokes the band members used to play on each other, to the lawsuit that Fritsche filed against Ole Swenson for stealing the four songs Fritsche's band recorded in Minneapolis.

Current was reminded of a cafe in Dennison, Iowa, that had a sign in the window, "Recommended By Duncan Hines," and a rat-infested basement.

The anecdote prompted Prahl to bring up another place the band ate at during World War II. He said hamburger steaks were popular in the early 1940s, and the band stopped to grab a bite in Estherville, Iowa; the hamburger steaks were huge despite the government meat rations at the time. Prahl figured out why the portions were so large. There was a sign above the counter that said the restaurant served only horse meat. Roman Kahle remembered being sick after that point.

"In those days, people danced," Roman Kahle recalls. "That's what people did in those days."

Current then remembered how some of the biggest ballrooms of the day -- the Prom Ballroom in St. Paul, the Terp in Austin, Minn., and the Surf in Clear Lake, Iowa -- were owned by the same company and part of a circuit.

"I remember Twin Brooks was quite a place with that curtain they used to have," he said. "They'd roll it up and there would be birds' nests underneath."

Roman Kahle recalled being out on a job with Fritsche on Dec. 7, 1941. They both heard the news of the attack on Pearl Harbor on their way to a gig in Lewisville, which they played as if nothing went on.

Prahl remembered how the Kahle brothers were once in Catholic schools, and Fritsche used to come pick them up and drop them off in between gigs. He remembered how the nuns used to scold the bandleader, who eventually replied, "Look, you can't find better experience than getting bounced around on the road." The 'nun problem' ceased at that point, Prahl said.

The four men also reflected on their ages. At 78, Roman Kahle is the youngest of the bunch. His brother Marvin is 82. Current is 80, and Prahl is 81.

Prahl then remembered that whenever the Fritsche band played in South Dakota, they would start at 11 p.m. and quit at 4 a.m.

Eventually, the subject of the conversation turned to Fritsche himself. Prahl remembered a time when Current was driving the bus and Fritsche woke up and started throwing bottles at Current because he was going in the wrong direction.

"If it was in a snowstorm, we got late, but we never really got cancelled," Prahl said.

Fritsche got his nickname because he used to hunt pheasants on his farm.

"His real name was Victor, but he didn't like that," Current said.

Roman Kahle remembered the squabble over use of the term 'Schnickel-Fritz' between Fritsche and another band from Winona, that ultimately forced Fritsche to change the name of the group.

All four men remember how Fritsche used to tell them, "You guys play the job, I'll do the drinking," or "You set up, you take down and I'll do the socializing."

"I was going to hit Fezz up for a raise, and he replied 'I was thinking of cutting you all, so I guess there'll be no change,"" Current remembered.

"Fezz was a good man to work for," Marvin Kahle said later.

"I would say he was the cleanest and best-dressed man on the road," Prahl added.