About Me

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Gladwin, Michigan, United States
Eugene Fritcher was born in Gladwin, Michigan in 1928. He has been the subject of many articles regarding his views on preservation of lakes, rivers, wildlife and forest land. The author lived an extremely active life in his younger years, and through his many jobs, acquaintances and his own experiences, he has gathered a multitude of writing material.

Friday, December 16, 2016

Valley of the Dove

When I leave this earth for a home in heaven
may God grant me a small cabin in the hills,
nestled in some quiet peaceful valley
a place where spring flowers never wilt.

May a path carry me to a stream side
flowing gentle among the rocks and rills,
let the birds sing sweetly as the angels
as the gentle dove coos, my heart shall fill.

Rejoicing in God's grace I’ll never tire
as the whip-poor-will’s song rings ore the dell,
may there be peace for all in this valley
there shall never be a need again to kill.

May the cabin be brightened by lamp light
let the fiddles and the banjo's ever ring,
joining in our band will be the angels
in glory will their golden voices sing.

Old friends will gather around the campfire
in harmony we shall sing of God's love,
one by one as old friends come to join us
they’ll be welcomed to the Valley of the Dove.

Friday, November 4, 2016


Deep in the swamp land lived Emery Jones
a thin little man, most all called him Bones.
Never known as a man to socialize,
lived his life among birds, beasts and the fly's.

At times he'd been heard talking to tree's,
some thought Bones had a mental disease.
Folks shied away from his moss covered home,
thought of as strange, people left him alone.

At the general store at "Swamp River Bend"
twice a year old Bones would come limping in.
Thin, pale and gaunt he never carried a grin,
just picked up staples, back to swamp life again.

He was accepted for years, then the gossip begin,
that old Bones was guilty of some horrible sin,
must have broke out of prison, hid from the war,
perhaps even murdered, would he kill anymore?

Coyotes steal chickens when wild food gets thin
old Bones would be blamed, folks knew it was him.
A group of men gathered to search the swamp
they'd drive this thief from his sod shanty romp.

Found Bones roasting meat on a long willow stick
then one huge towering man gave the fire a kick.
"You'll steal no more chickens, now get on your way"
Bones limped off like a child, had nothing to say.

With a few tugs and pulls the cabin came down
a few men remained still searching the ground.
Not one chicken bone, or feather did they find,
just one deer front quarter, hung up with old twine.

Then a small box made from split cedar tree
lay half covered in sand, very easy to see.
Inside this small box there was bound to be,
missing coins stolen from some burglary.

The box held a bible, papers, and a rolled up old flag.
There was no stolen money of which they could brag.
When leafing the bible a war picture was found,
seven soldiers lay dead on the battlefield ground.

A letter of commendation clearly defined
how private Emery Jones had fought through enemy lines,
opened a hole at least one quarter mile wide,
saving twenty nine soldiers, all trapped inside.

Shot in the leg he would hobble and crawl
over and back till he had saved them all.
Many metals fell from that old ragged flag,
one a purple heart on which he never did brag.

"Thou shall not kill" in the bible circled in red,
a prayer for each man he'd killed was daily said.
Prayed their families and God, could some day forgive,
self penitence, the rest of his life he would live.

Emery Jones had lost faith in his fellow man,
made a vow that never, would he kill again.
They rebuilt his shanty on that lonely swamp track
but little Emery ( Bones ) Jones, never did wander back.

Let Thee Not Judge
Matthew 7.1 Judge Not

Wednesday, September 17, 2014


Let me tell you a story
about this faithful old rifle
the many deer it has killed
would make your mind stifle.

It fed a family for years
yes! this worn out rifle did
like a heat seeking missile
guided each bullet shed.

From game wardens has hid
in mud, sand, grass and snow
in many old hollow log
where it escaped from the foe.

Thrown from a car window
traveling full speed ahead
there it lost a forearm
still the family it fed.

By light of an oil lamp
from a old block of wood
Dad carved and replaced it
did the best that he could.

A rifle needs not a license
so it provided year round
winter, spring, summer, fall
by no law is it bound.

Traveled miles through forest
of this there's no doubt
Dad said this old rifle
could point his path out.

Rifles pay no heed to signs
there's no place they won't go,
over fence, ridge and valley
much like arrow and bow.

Handed down with love
it shall hang on my wall
in reverence I'll cherish
as best old friend of all.

In Memory of Clarence Sherman Fritcher
1894 - 1981
Houghton Lake, Michigan

Dedicated to all who cherish family treasures with
their fond memories.

Friday, August 22, 2014


Michigan's Methane Valley, enjoy the great out of doors.
Without research the date oil and gas was discovered and the first
oil wells drilled in the area of Meredith located in Clare County
Michigan is not clear.  My guess is the wells were drilled in the
late 1930s or early in the 1940s.  Memory is sketchy but story has
it when the oil well relief shift came they found the two man night
crew dead.  It looked as if the deceased workers had been sleeping.
Casualty blame fell on escaping gas released sometime during the
night.  For years the smell of putrid escaping gas required closing
car windows when driving on M-18 in the area of Lindy Lake.

Winds from the west carry stench far enough to be smelled at the
intersection of Dutcher and Chappel Dam Roads a distance of four
miles and even beyond.  When I say stink it's not the type you just
wrinkle up your nose and say phew, it is the type you clamp your
nose between your thumb and finger gasping in search for fresh air.
Off and on the escaping gas was vented and at times set fire. (The
eternal flame.)

Why was this gas not utilized?  Rumor claimed the
gas to be poison and unusable. Future oil/gas well, spills, leaking
storage tanks, venting of storage tanks, slush pits, leaking pipe
lines, transportation spills, and polluted air would certainly not
add to tourism, recreational areas, or healthy quality life.  This
article was written from memory and should be researched for fact.
The Gladwin County Record should have the above incident recorded in
their archives.  One thing I personally verify is the strong putrid
methane smell which has plagued the area for years*