1996 reprint edition. A vaporous Fortean. Maybe.
We can only track Martin J. Fritz’s life because of his mother’s obituary. And even at that he doesn’t appear in may historical records that I can find. Nor does it prove he is the same one who appeared in the pages of Doubt.
Martin J. Fritz, the one I will follow, the one I think is relevant, was born during the early years of the 1900s exactly where and when in dispute. The 1920 census has him born around 1905 in Illinois; the 1930 born around 1902 in Austria-Hungary; his social security death notice in 9 November 1902. His application for social security or Los Angeles death certificate would shed additional light on the matter, but given his tenuous connection to the Fortean Society I didn’t bother purchasing either of those.
We can only track Martin J. Fritz’s life because of his mother’s obituary. And even at that he doesn’t appear in may historical records that I can find. Nor does it prove he is the same one who appeared in the pages of Doubt.
Martin J. Fritz, the one I will follow, the one I think is relevant, was born during the early years of the 1900s exactly where and when in dispute. The 1920 census has him born around 1905 in Illinois; the 1930 born around 1902 in Austria-Hungary; his social security death notice in 9 November 1902. His application for social security or Los Angeles death certificate would shed additional light on the matter, but given his tenuous connection to the Fortean Society I didn’t bother purchasing either of those.
His parents were Paul and Catherine (or Katherine or Katrina), both of whom had migrated from Austro-Hungary in 1906. Martin—also spelled Morton in some documents—was there oldest child, followed in time by Frank and Catherine. In 1920, Paul was a janitor for a hardware company. He was 43, born around 1877, a few years older than his wife, who was born in 1881. By 1930, he was working as a janitor at an apartment building. Martin did clerical work for an oil company; Frank was a foreman at an electrical tool company; and Catherine was a stenographer. While they could speak English, German was the language they used at home. The family was living in a Chicago ethnic enclave, neighbors mostly to other German speakers, Russian speakers, and a few immigrants from Mexico.
By 1940, all three children had left the nest, Paul and Katherine still living in Chicago. Martin was in nearby Geneva, Illinois, working as a masseur. He would later list himself as a a doctor of osteopathy, and so likely attended the American College of Osteopathic Medicine and Surgery, in Downers Grove, some 20 miles from Geneva. Martin was too young to have served in World War I, but was of an age he should have registered for World War II, at the least, but I cannot find those records. Presumably, he was attending medical school during the war.
For some reason, Martin relocated to California. As would his mother, although she to the north and he to the south. (Frank would end up in New York.) Likely Catherine's move was brought on by the death of Paul, although I have no record of his passing. Martin may have been looking for somewhere to ply his trade. He may also have been looking for fellow countrymen, for he moved to Pacific Palisades, in Los Angeles, which during the 1930s and 1940s became a refuge for German intellectuals escaping Hitler and the war. In 1953, he married Irene Huebner. She too had lived in Chicago—born to a father from Germany, a mother from Illinois. Martin was 50 and she was 45 at the time of what-seems-to-be the first marriage for both (although they may have known each other for a long time before.)
Presumably, Martin was busy with his practice during the 1950s, which is why he doesn’t appear in any other records I can find from that decade. Not until the 1960s and 1970s does his name come up repeatedly, by which point he had established himself as an advocate for alternative forms of health based on a vague—but heartfelt!—spirituality. He seems to have been an advocate for vegetarianism, having served as president of the local vegetarian society not only in Los Angeles, but also Chicago, which makes sense with his education and career as a masseuse.
In 1964, he published a small pamphlet, “Hum Your Way to Health,” which advocated what we might now call a kind of mindful breathing. (That same year he subscribed to Western Destiny, a metaphysical magazine.) Over the next decade and a half, Fritz seems to have expanded his activities—or maybe they just come into focus, but had always been there, hidden because they had been off-beat but were becoming more mainstream. He caught the attention of the FDA in the late 1960s and early 1970s because of an invention he was promoting, The Ruckin Roll Device—I’m not sure what that was, but the linguistic playfulness would be repeated in other works. It may not be a coincidence that his mother died in 1965: if there was some type of schism with his Catholic parents, Fritz may have waited until their deaths to become fully active publicly.
Some time in the 1970s, it would seem, Fritz started something called the Life Sciences Programme, although I find only a few scant references to it, and don’t know what it was. He promoted eye exercises—using a pendulum—that was supposed to increase attention but relieve tension. He himself took a cold bath every morning, and recommended the practice to everyone. (He patented a shower head that would alternate extremely hot and cold water streams, too.) In the middle of the decade, he initiated a series of almanacs, which would be published into the early 1980s, called “The Almanack of Nopar King”—there’s the linguistic playfulness again. (He may also have sometimes used the pseudonym Martin N. King.) I have not seen any of these, but they are described as almanacs of the moon. It may be that he was always interested in the moon and astrology, or it may be that he had recently come to the subject. But the 1970s seems to have seen him integrate the cycles of the moon with his breathing program.
At any rate, he presented a synthesis of moon cycles and breathing exercises in a 1979 article for The Kosmon Voice. In it, Fritz assumed that the Sabbath which the Bible tells us to keep holy was based on lunar cycles—it was the two quarter moons, the full moon, and the new moon. These are times of disruption, Fritz says, and they are also times when we are supposed to lift our voices to Jehovah “the All-Person.” It is the time, in other words, to concentrate on breath, to hum, and to sing. The focus on the Sabbath also suggests that Fritz may have been associated, in some way, with the Seventh-Day-Adventist movement, which also emphasized vegetarianism and wholesome health practices. (He also may have published in the church’s magazine Herald of Health.) Perhaps that is why he moved to Los Angeles.
Irene Huebner Fritz died in 1985. Martin followed her some seven years later, dying in August 1992, about ten weeks before his 90th birthday.
Fritz’s name appeared only twice in the pages of Doubt, and I can find no reference to Fort in any of his writing. Certainly living in Los Angeles during the post-war years and moving through health-reforming circles, he had ample opportunity to come across other Forteans or develop his thoughts on Fort, but, if he did so, his ideas are either unrecorded publicly or I cannot find them. And so the only evidence of his Forteanism is that one issue of Doubt which cited him, issue 14 Spring 1946, pages 203 and 210.
At the time he was active in the Fortean Society, Fritz seems to have lived in Illinois—at least one of his clippings referred to a Chicago news story—and was conventional in his interests, as far as Fortean interests can be considered conventional. There was no mention of alternative health theories or metaphysics. The first report had to do with a deer that on 2 November 1945—a week before Fritz’s 43rd birthday—leaped through a plate glass window into an automobile showroom, leaped out through another window, and led police and boy scouts (?) on an hour long case before disappearing. This was in Chicago. I have not a found a copy of the original report.
That report was just credited to Fritz, and Martin J. would have been another lost Fortean if Thayer had not broken his usual pattern and given his full name for the second report. It referred to an old National Geographic story (vol. 48, no. 6, p. 677) about ice near Greenland which appeared and disappeared so quickly locals thought it must have sunk and risen again.
Now the connection between the Fritz who sent in material and the one who was later to be a doctor of osteopathy in California and promote his alternative health theories is, admittedly, fairly scant, based only on the name and the fact that the Fortean Fritz seems to have had some connection to Chicago. The name itself, of course, is fairly common, and so it is possible that the Dr. Fritz was never the same as Fortean Fritz. As I say, he’s a vaporous Fortean—if Fortean he be.
By 1940, all three children had left the nest, Paul and Katherine still living in Chicago. Martin was in nearby Geneva, Illinois, working as a masseur. He would later list himself as a a doctor of osteopathy, and so likely attended the American College of Osteopathic Medicine and Surgery, in Downers Grove, some 20 miles from Geneva. Martin was too young to have served in World War I, but was of an age he should have registered for World War II, at the least, but I cannot find those records. Presumably, he was attending medical school during the war.
For some reason, Martin relocated to California. As would his mother, although she to the north and he to the south. (Frank would end up in New York.) Likely Catherine's move was brought on by the death of Paul, although I have no record of his passing. Martin may have been looking for somewhere to ply his trade. He may also have been looking for fellow countrymen, for he moved to Pacific Palisades, in Los Angeles, which during the 1930s and 1940s became a refuge for German intellectuals escaping Hitler and the war. In 1953, he married Irene Huebner. She too had lived in Chicago—born to a father from Germany, a mother from Illinois. Martin was 50 and she was 45 at the time of what-seems-to-be the first marriage for both (although they may have known each other for a long time before.)
Presumably, Martin was busy with his practice during the 1950s, which is why he doesn’t appear in any other records I can find from that decade. Not until the 1960s and 1970s does his name come up repeatedly, by which point he had established himself as an advocate for alternative forms of health based on a vague—but heartfelt!—spirituality. He seems to have been an advocate for vegetarianism, having served as president of the local vegetarian society not only in Los Angeles, but also Chicago, which makes sense with his education and career as a masseuse.
In 1964, he published a small pamphlet, “Hum Your Way to Health,” which advocated what we might now call a kind of mindful breathing. (That same year he subscribed to Western Destiny, a metaphysical magazine.) Over the next decade and a half, Fritz seems to have expanded his activities—or maybe they just come into focus, but had always been there, hidden because they had been off-beat but were becoming more mainstream. He caught the attention of the FDA in the late 1960s and early 1970s because of an invention he was promoting, The Ruckin Roll Device—I’m not sure what that was, but the linguistic playfulness would be repeated in other works. It may not be a coincidence that his mother died in 1965: if there was some type of schism with his Catholic parents, Fritz may have waited until their deaths to become fully active publicly.
Some time in the 1970s, it would seem, Fritz started something called the Life Sciences Programme, although I find only a few scant references to it, and don’t know what it was. He promoted eye exercises—using a pendulum—that was supposed to increase attention but relieve tension. He himself took a cold bath every morning, and recommended the practice to everyone. (He patented a shower head that would alternate extremely hot and cold water streams, too.) In the middle of the decade, he initiated a series of almanacs, which would be published into the early 1980s, called “The Almanack of Nopar King”—there’s the linguistic playfulness again. (He may also have sometimes used the pseudonym Martin N. King.) I have not seen any of these, but they are described as almanacs of the moon. It may be that he was always interested in the moon and astrology, or it may be that he had recently come to the subject. But the 1970s seems to have seen him integrate the cycles of the moon with his breathing program.
At any rate, he presented a synthesis of moon cycles and breathing exercises in a 1979 article for The Kosmon Voice. In it, Fritz assumed that the Sabbath which the Bible tells us to keep holy was based on lunar cycles—it was the two quarter moons, the full moon, and the new moon. These are times of disruption, Fritz says, and they are also times when we are supposed to lift our voices to Jehovah “the All-Person.” It is the time, in other words, to concentrate on breath, to hum, and to sing. The focus on the Sabbath also suggests that Fritz may have been associated, in some way, with the Seventh-Day-Adventist movement, which also emphasized vegetarianism and wholesome health practices. (He also may have published in the church’s magazine Herald of Health.) Perhaps that is why he moved to Los Angeles.
Irene Huebner Fritz died in 1985. Martin followed her some seven years later, dying in August 1992, about ten weeks before his 90th birthday.
Fritz’s name appeared only twice in the pages of Doubt, and I can find no reference to Fort in any of his writing. Certainly living in Los Angeles during the post-war years and moving through health-reforming circles, he had ample opportunity to come across other Forteans or develop his thoughts on Fort, but, if he did so, his ideas are either unrecorded publicly or I cannot find them. And so the only evidence of his Forteanism is that one issue of Doubt which cited him, issue 14 Spring 1946, pages 203 and 210.
At the time he was active in the Fortean Society, Fritz seems to have lived in Illinois—at least one of his clippings referred to a Chicago news story—and was conventional in his interests, as far as Fortean interests can be considered conventional. There was no mention of alternative health theories or metaphysics. The first report had to do with a deer that on 2 November 1945—a week before Fritz’s 43rd birthday—leaped through a plate glass window into an automobile showroom, leaped out through another window, and led police and boy scouts (?) on an hour long case before disappearing. This was in Chicago. I have not a found a copy of the original report.
That report was just credited to Fritz, and Martin J. would have been another lost Fortean if Thayer had not broken his usual pattern and given his full name for the second report. It referred to an old National Geographic story (vol. 48, no. 6, p. 677) about ice near Greenland which appeared and disappeared so quickly locals thought it must have sunk and risen again.
Now the connection between the Fritz who sent in material and the one who was later to be a doctor of osteopathy in California and promote his alternative health theories is, admittedly, fairly scant, based only on the name and the fact that the Fortean Fritz seems to have had some connection to Chicago. The name itself, of course, is fairly common, and so it is possible that the Dr. Fritz was never the same as Fortean Fritz. As I say, he’s a vaporous Fortean—if Fortean he be.
