Walter Lee Hartenberger

 I was browsing through a old yearbook from Concordia Lutheran Seminary from a favorite uncle who died in a car accident while attending there in 1950, when I saw a picture of Mr. Hartenburger, my 1959 art teacher from Milwaukee Luther High.  I was surprised to find out they were classmates.  I very much enjoyed his art class and learned a lot from him.  I put in enough extra effort that he granted me outside priveledges during study hall so I could sketch scenes around the school grounds.  Of course I abused it a bit by sneaking smokes, a bad habit I gave up 35 years ago.  Now I'm in retirement and volunteer as a prison chaplain through Wisconsin Lutheran Institutional Ministries.  I'll look forward to meeting him again. 

My memories of Fritz go back to early college years.   He was the motorcycle enthusiast who inspired others.   As a Minnesotan I rode my new machine (wal, new to me)  and met Fritz near his home before I headed south to Missouri.  He asked to ride it and I let him.   His ride lasted only a short time.  The cycle had never worked so hard before,  and never worked that hard again.  Now I knew I had a good machine.

     Life's responsibilities separated us with distant locations.  The Lord Jesus will enable us to worship together one day.

Uncle Fritz was so amazing!  His legacy will live forever.  I think of him when I repeat his one-liners ("Justin Other..." etc.) or teach my children Gas House Specials or see an Alfonzo proudly on display in my son's room.  It was his idea to change the pronunciation of my name because he thought it sounded more elegant - and as my godfather, he could make such choices.  As a child he'd tell me "I get you if your parents kick the bucket!"  That seemed like a good backup plan to me!  I love his parenting advice, like telling the girls that call for your son that "he's out with a girl, but I can't remember which one since there are so many."  But my "favorite" parenting tactic which I employ is to tell each of my children they are my favorite.  I truly believed I was Fritz's favorite my entire childhood.  Even when I realized I wasn't the only one to hear that, it didn't matter.  He had given me the gift of feeling the "most special" for so long.  My kids have discussions about who is really my favorite, but when I'm alone with one child I convince that child it's really he/she.  I can see Fritz winking down upon those conversations.  I'm guessing he's an usher in heaven.  He seemed to have it figured out which denominations sat where in heaven - the balcony, the front row, the back row, etc.  Although his humor is what we tend to think of first, I loved how he could get right to my heart with direct, insightful questions about my faith, my choices, my life.  What a great, multi-faceted man!  He was one of a kind and is greatly missed.  When he seats me in heaven, I hope my seat is near him!

My Uncle Fritz was an amazing man who made a difference in the lives of so many people.  As a kid I had so much fun with my Uncle Fritz.  I will never forget the gas house specials, digging for clams or the animal shaped pancakes, especially the bunnies.  Or the exciting times - horse rides, motorcycle rides, and one jeep ride where we all had to lean into the mountain side to avoid rolling.  As I grew up I still loved the fun side of Fritz - especially his story telling abilities - but I also started to realize how he helped people.  Education was his focus and he made an impact on so many lives by the work he did, like improving access to education.  What a great legacy.  I am both proud, and feel very lucky, to have had Fritz as my Uncle.  I will miss you Uncle Fritz!   

PS We keep thinking about Walt and Mary and came up with a couple more memories. One was when they came purring up our steep driveway in Issaquah on the Gold Wing on their way to Canada. We had a great overnight visit with them. The other goes back to “Lab” days. That was before cell phones and when fliers could change their flights without penalty. When Walt and Chet were in Alaska they occasionally finished a project early, jumped an earlier flight and came home without warning us. One of these middle-of-the-night surprises found Walt facing Mary with a shotgun in her hands. Luckily her trigger finger was a bit slow. Irene probably would have done the same only we didn’t have a gun. From then on we got a call from the airport, no matter the hour.