From a Hoppity Horse in suburbs to living cowboy dream
If childhood dreams always came true, the suburbs would be packed with professional athletes, marine biologists, firefighters, rock stars, paleontologists and prima ballerinas.
As a little girl in Glen Ellyn in the late 1960s, Bambi Fritz had a slightly different dream.
"I wanted to marry the Marlboro Man," says Bambi, whose family is old friends with mine. "I was attracted to that cowboy type - the Stetson hat, the spurs, the horses."
She even had a horse, the wildly popular Hoppity Horse - an inflatable rubber ball with a horse's head and handles.
"I hopped around the house or the neighborhood or whatever," Bambi remembers. "I had a vest with a sheriff's badge and I hopped everywhere on my little horse."
But by her teens, Bambi was working at an Arthur Treacher's Fish & Chips and developing an interest in the food industry. After graduating from Indiana University, she started her food service career with Marriott and worked her way up to restaurant manager in Washington, D.C. She left that for a better job as a banquet manager for Hyatt Hotels in Atlanta.
Then she met her Marlboro Man.
Pete Dillingham was employed at a TV station in Michigan and had a part-time job selling radio advertising when he paid a sales call on a stable near Lansing. Pete got the advertising contract but agreed to come back the next day to ride a horse so he'd know what it was they were selling.
"I was wearing Bermuda shorts and sandals," Pete remembers.
But when he got on the back of Queenie, "it just felt like an electrical current went right through my veins," Pete says.
He ended up volunteering so much at the stable that the owner gave him a horse named Sandy. Soon, Pete was managing the stable and riding in competitive barrel races. Then he bought the stable. Then he moved to Georgia for an even better chance to work with horses.
One weekend, Rob Kushner, who grew up in Arlington Heights, and his wife, Karen, talked their friend Bambi into taking a break from the banquet business for a little horse riding. Pete was the instructor.
"He was riding a mustang," Bambi remembers. "He had his hat on and his cowboy boots. He didn't even own sneakers."
Pete was her Marlboro Man, only he doesn't smoke.
"She was cute - really, really cute," remembers Pete.
Things went so well while riding horses that Pete thought, "Holy mackerel, I might just have a chance to date this gal."
During a particularly challenging ride down a steep and narrow ridge, Pete asked Rob, Karen and their friend, Bambi, if they'd like to stay for dinner. Pete cooked steaks on a campfire.
Today, Pete and Bambi Dillingham are living their dream on Firefly Acres, next to the Kushners. The Dillinghams, who married in 1992, bought a 45-acre plot of beautiful rolling land near Sparta, Tenn. With the help of family and friends, they cleared the pastures for their horses. They hired local builders to put up a barn, three rental cabins, a commercial kitchen and a pavilion.
From the rocking chairs on the porches of "The Bunkhouse," "The Doghouse" and "The Toolshed" cabins, guests can see the Firefly Acres pastures where Pete starts off his morning working with horses.
"I'm not working," Pete corrects. "I'm doing what I love."
Gray and fit at age 63, Pete has earned his reputation as a horse whisperer. Folks come from all over (it's a day's drive from our suburbs) to learn what Pete knows about horses, riders and life.
"It's truly a God-given gift, not just to enjoy, but to learn from," Pete says of his ability to communicate with horses through patience, motivation and love. "I utilize horses to find a better way to become better human beings. I love it."
Bambi, who specializes in banquets for weddings, reunions and other special events, says she is living the dream she had as a little girl.
"I made the right choice, and I'm very happy with how it ended up," says Bambi, 45.
Instead of bouncing around on her Hoppity Horse, she now rides a Paso Fino horse that "was born right into my arms" six years ago.
Her horse's name? Dreamer.