Franklin "Fritz" George Groat

Franklin “Fritz” George Groat was born on February 22, 1941, in Badger, Iowa, and lived a life deeply rooted in love, honesty, creativity, and the great outdoors. On January 5, 2026, Fritz completed his earthly work and left behind a family—and a patch of land—forever changed by his presence.

Fritz loved his family unconditionally. Not loudly or showily, but steadily, faithfully, and without question. His wife and soulmate, Joanne, was the great love of his life, and together they built not just a home, but a legacy of devotion, resilience, and partnership.

A man of the land, Fritz found joy outdoors—hunting, fishing, gardening, and working with his hands. He was talented and endlessly creative, building his home in Clare using what the land itself provided. Woodworking came naturally to him, as did problem-solving, inventing, and making something meaningful out of nothing at all.

Fritz was honest without being judgmental, wise without being loud. He listened more than he talked—but when he did talk, people leaned in. His memory was legendary. He told stories that sounded almost unbelievable (but were entirely true) and delivered jokes—so many jokes—that no one could ever count them all. His laughter and storytelling will echo for generations.

An entrepreneur at heart, Fritz owned multiple car body shops and LC Logging, always working hard, always building something—whether it was a business, a home, or a future for his family.

Fritz leaves behind his beloved wife, Joanne; his four daughters: Sonya (Carl), Abigail (Greg), Ginny (Lane), and Emily (Chad); eight grandchildren: Caitlin (Paul), Kara, Taylor (Dusten), Paige (Zak), Logan, Trevor, Tyce, and Marlee; and two great-grandchildren, Ren and Silas, who will grow up hearing stories about the man who came before them.

He was preceded in death by many he loved deeply—his parents, Ruth and Roger, and his three brothers, Gary, Doug, and Lanny—whom he now rejoins, surely with a grin and a story ready to tell.

Fritz would not want sadness to have the final word. He would want laughter, stories shared around a table, a walk outside, dirt under fingernails, and time spent with the people you love.

His life reminds us that a good life doesn’t have to be flashy—it just has to be real. And Fritz’s life was exactly that.

Well done, Fritz.

Your stories live on.