The phone rang, and I was told to sit down. Our friend, Tom Fritz, had drowned on Lake Coeur d ‘Alene that afternoon. How could that be? There must be some mistake. Since then, realism has set in.

He was one of the most interesting guys I’ve ever met. I used to watch him and chuckle to myself at his intensity and conflicting compassion.    

Professionally, he surrounded himself with talented people, created a vision, provided passion, and allowed them to do their jobs. It was a remarkable formula for success.

But those who knew him best will remember him as a guy who had a burning need to be surrounded by friends and family. The formula for a successful barbecue party on his patio deck always included plenty of friends, a few bratwursts and chicken thighs on the grill, notable wine, and cheer. Laughing was contagious when you were around him. He was lighthearted and full of anecdotes.  

A few of us had traveled to Europe with Tom and his wife, Anne, a few years ago, floating down the Rhine River past castles and vineyards into ancient cities. Each day, we would join the tour guide and begin searching for historical secrets. 

Tommy would have his earphones connected to the guide and be on his own tour. He was possessed. He had studied architecture early in his college days, and he had an eye for photography. He saw Europe his way, through his eyes. Each morning at breakfast, he already would have categorized photos from the day before, edited them, and would have a slide show of the Europe he had seen.  

He served as a Marine in his youth. He was tough, competitive, a marathon runner, and he wanted to win every race he entered in life. He also was an independent thinker, stubborn, and someone who internalized too much and was generous to a fault.  

He was the guy who would fight modern medicine to try to find an immediate cure and solution to a friend’s wife’s incurable cancer. He would sit in a hospital room for hours torn in pain himself with a friend who was suffering. He wouldn’t give up. 

He had started golfing. A few weeks ago, Anne and I golfed with him. From across the fairway, she and I watched and chuckled as he repeatedly walked up to his ball, hit it, and then began a tirade of expletives. That was the competitive and intense nature of Tommy.

He retired from INHS a few months ago, and expressed relief at the reduced pressure in his life. He was spending time at his newly remodeled lake place. He enjoyed puttering on his boat and was always trying to get one of us to go out and fish with him.  We would tease him because he never caught any fish, but he was determined to catch the biggest fish in the lake.   

The fishing is a lot better in the lake he is fishing in now. 

Greg Bever is the retired publisher of the Journal of Business. He served in that role from 1997 to 2012.