I treasure my fond memories of Mr. Fischer ; Mr. Fischer, because it took until my 50's to get the courage to call him John. He would often hit tennis with me as a young teenager during down time at the club for just a little break that usually lasted an hour. Our hitting time always finished after being beat by his underhand serve. You could tell he enjoyed all people and he also insisted on respect from anyone in his circle. I loved his food and later when I moved to Pennsylvania every year he would bottle his special dressing for me to take back on the plane. He went above and beyond for my wedding reception and then joyfully tried to teach my football playing husband how to play tennis. My john really appreciated John making time for him to play tennis with his group on our annual July 4 trips back to Cedar Rapids. He touched so many people and he will be missed but not forgotten.
Ginger von Lackum Sabia
April 28, 2017
The Veteran's Memorial Tennis Center was such a unique venue with their rarity of having the only public clay rubico courts in the entire Midwest. If they did bother to charge, I think the hourly court fee for out of towners was an outrageous fifty cents an hour. The place was hopping from Memorial Day to past Labor Day. The treat of clay court tennis is the longevity of one's playing days as per south Florida with it's numerous clay courts with people participating in to their 90 with such ease of wear and tear on one's knees and legs.
Anyone could just hang out and be game to 'hit some' at the Tennis Center with anyone who showed up, within minutes. Refreshingly there was no economic apartheid. It is where my brother's and I started the game. At age seven, I started, plateaued and peaked all in that same year.
It could have been a television series, 'The Tennis Player's', with wonderful Mr. Fischer and his tennis lads. I can see it as if it were yesterday - Mr Fischer, in his white button down shirt and ever present tennis floppy hat and his cronies of Misters Falt, Dodge, Wright, Nye, Bullinga, Koranda, Donnellson, Carpenter, Gross, Palmer, Fletcher, Kuba, Moravec, Bickel, Knapp, Watts, Whiteman, Ellertson and others. All of them clad in their tennis whites, with their wooden rackets and gear. They waged battle it seemed several times a week. The hoots, hollers and jocularity coming from their courts was infectious. It was a United Nations of a group with Mr. Fischer's distinct Hungarian and Mr. Bullinga's Deutsch Germanic accents and all, adding to the mix. They were competitive that was for sure, with all of them sweating like roasts. Mr. Fischer always took on a firey reddish orange glow. I always surmised some of the barely audible mutterings in foreign languages were probably pretty colorful when I was on the next court. What fun and friendships they had. A few always managed to light up a permeating cigar or two as they chatted afterwards with their always looking forward to their next tennis war tomorrow. It was so lasting to see as a young lad like me back in those good old days
One time I stopped up at the Tennis
Center without my stuff. Mr. Fischer showed up to hit some. Living close to Roosevelt, Mr. Fischer drove me home to get my racket and gear so we could play. I was thrilled. Me, being the black sheep of the family, Mr. Fischer always made this nobody feel like somebody. Friends who have worked for him speak highly of his fairness, strict expectations to detail, class and manners, seeing through all of the guise and pretense with the lost souls clinging to their material foo foo.
With the Almighty calling Home our beloved John at age 22 at Christmas time rendering my family beyond bereaved, never to recover. It was the likes of Mr, Fischer who stepped in as did many to comfort our agony. This is the man he is.
Senselessly the city removed the Veteran's Tennis Center's clay courts, depriving people of the novelty of experiencing them and perpetuating their longevity of playing long in to their golden years. The place was bopping in the 50's, 60's and 70's ~ now on most days it has been a ghost town from what it once was these last thirty plus years.
From all of our family Mr Fischer, we want to thank you forever for being so good to us. For the good fortune to cross your path, for being a loved family friend and to all of the lives you have reached.
Godspeed Mr. Fischer - Untill we meet again!
Timothy Wayne van Deest
April 26, 2017
Mr. Fischer became manager at CRCC shortly after I joined the club in 1960. The food and management of the club had been going downhill, but when he came everything changed for the better. The food and service during his tenure was first class. And that was the kind of man he was - first class. It was always a pleasure to bring our family and friends out for dinner or sports, because John Fischer was totally in command and you knew the experience would be good. He was a man of character who cared about those he served.
William Moss
April 24, 2017
I borrowed lots from of johns ideas to use in my job . Serving buffets , using a chime to signal dinner , even the use of fork and spoon for dessert . Everyone knew him and addressed him as Mister Fisher . If he said no that was the final answer a great manager and man
Mark broghammer
April 23, 2017
I loved working at the CRCC during my college years. Mr. Fischer was a hardworking person who lived a truly extraordinary life. I loved hearing his stories about his youth and where he traveled during his lifetime. The CRCC was lucky to have him. My condolences to his family.
Jolene Craig Koranda
April 21, 2017