‘American Pickers’ Frank Fritz put under guardianship – things started going downhill after bad engagement – Latest news!

We occasionally follow paths in life that we never would have imagined. Although Frank Fritz was a well-liked character on television, he was going through a lot in his personal life.

This is his tragic tale…

Longtime partner of Frank Fritz was Diann Bankson. His tumultuous split from her resulted in his drinking, unemployment, and even a medical emergency. Although the two are now permanently apart, their time spent together left a lasting impression on them both.]

At the age of 25, Frank Fritz, the host of “American Pickers,” first laid eyes on Diann Bankson. The pair intermittently dated before being engaged in 2017. They moved in together after purchasing an Iowa farmhouse a year later in 2018.

Their relationship, however, soured in November of that year when Bankson claimed to have “walked in” on Fritz and “caught him in bed with another woman.”

Fritz disclosed in an interview that Bankson had cheated on him and that he was even reminded of her “betrayal” by a tattoo. However, he declared his desire to wed her.

“I had planned to get married, had purchased a house and a very expensive ring, and was shocked to learn that my fiancée had been seeing someone else for the previous 2.5 years,” Fritz remarked.

Fritz stated, “She’s the cheater, which is why I got a tattoo saying ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater.’” He said that the tattoo was meant to act as a reminder to never do “the same mistake again.” And that Bankson had “cost” him a lot of money, he said.

He started drinking to heal his broken heart. That’s how he handled his heartbreak, he claimed. He lost a lot of weight as a result of this as well. “I gave it a good shot,” remarked Fritz. I made an attempt to drown her.

He overcame his drinking issue, but because the last relationship with Bankson had “stung hard enough,” he made the decision to put off dating for a while.

Following the split, he had losses in his career as well. The Sun claims that after March 2020, he stopped hosting History Channel’s “American Pickers.”

Fritz gave an explanation for his absence, saying that he intended to return to the show after the scar from his back surgery healed. “I would like to return to the show,” Fritz remarked. Now that I’m fully recovered, I’m prepared to resume my role on the show.

Fritz claimed there had been no definitive decision made by the show regarding his return. He said, though, that a showrunner had given him a call and assured him that he would return to the screen.

Despite Fritz having worked on the show for ten years, TMZ claims that the show has “no plans” to employ him as a host once more.

In addition to not returning to his show, Bankson’s ex-boyfriend Eric Longlett, an engineering administration manager, made his debut. She gushed about how fortunate she was to be with him in posts about him on social media.

“He took me to see Elton John’s Yellow Brick Road Farewell Tour,” she captioned a photo of herself and Longlett together at the concert. I’m a fortunate woman. Love you, sweetie. oxo

Fritz was hospitalized on July 4, 2022, following a stroke. After finding him on his house floor, his companion had phoned for assistance. The 911 call in which his friend stated, “He might be seizuring, I’m not sure,” was obtained by The US Sun.

Bill Fritz, Fritz’s father, told the reporters that his son was healing nicely and getting better every day.

His recuperation was not as complete as the physicians had hoped, though. After being discharged from the hospital, he was placed under guardianship and sent to a nursing home.

On August 18, 2022, his “longtime friend” reportedly filed an emergency appointment for temporary guardianship and conservatorship on his behalf, which was subsequently approved.

The bank was designated as his conservator to manage his finances, and his friend was named as his guardian.

In its capacity as his conservator, the bank would manage all of his care facility bills, including daily costs, health insurance, maintenance, and property tax payments. The bank would have to make sure he could get to events and doctor’s visits in a suitable manner.

In addition to being “in decision-making since the stroke,” his friend’s guardianship required that he submit a “initial care plan” for the patient.

In order to achieve this, his guardian would have to make decisions about his living situation, place of residence at the time, health, and medical requirements. They would also need to arrange for him to participate in activities, maintain communication with him and his loved ones, and pursue romantic relationships. It would also be expected of him to provide an annual report as his guardian.

His health was getting worse, according to his papers, and it was making it more difficult for him to make wise decisions for himself, “without which physical injury or illness may occur.”

Documents revealed that he was unable to “make, communicate, or carry out important decisions concerning his own financial affairs,” indicating that his condition was far worse than previously believed.

His guardian will have to make decisions on his behalf as he heals and is able to “receive treatment for his injuries.”

The court determined that Fritz needs a guardian in order to prevent additional harm to his health. The court decided that “appointing a guardian and conservator is necessary to avoid immediate harm to him.”

This story really breaks my heart. We send Frank Fritz our best wishes for wellness and recovery.

Tell your friends and relatives about this so they can pray for the well-being of their beloved TV show presenter and learn what happened to him.

On Our Anniversary, My Husband Presented Me with a Bill Summarizing How Much I ‘Cost’ Him Over the Years – He Insisted I Repay the Amount

Five years ago, Ava stood at the altar, ready to start a new life with the man she loved. But tonight, her dreams lay shattered on the kitchen table. They were replaced by a cruel reality: a spreadsheet calculating the “cost” of her love.

“There’s something important I need to talk about,” my husband, Daniel, said, his voice unusually strained. At that point, my excitement for our fancy anniversary dinner sizzled out faster than a forgotten birthday candle.

We had reservations at 8 p.m., and all afternoon I’d been looking for the perfect outfit for our little Ben, while also folding mountains of laundry and reheating last night’s dinner.

Being a full-time stay-at-home mother wasn’t easy, especially when I had to look after my one-year-old son.

I met Daniel at the bustling investment firm where I used to work. My brain, sharp as a tack, thrived in the fast-paced world of finance.

Numbers danced in my head like a well-rehearsed ballet.

But then, the doctor’s words shattered our dreams like a dropped crystal vase.

“Infertility,” he said. “There might be some complications with conceiving naturally.”

Later that night, curled up on the couch with takeout boxes scattered around us, we talked. “Maybe it’s not meant to be,” I whispered as tears rolled down my cheeks.

Daniel cupped my face, his thumb wiping away a stray tear. “Ava,” he said. “If anything, this makes me want you more. We’ll figure this out, together. Maybe adoption…”

The seed of hope he planted took root in my heart.

That night, we made a pact to face whatever challenges came our way, as long as we faced them together.

Marriage wasn’t just about having a family, it was about building a life with the person who made you feel whole, even when pieces seemed missing.

A few months later, standing at the altar, tears welled up in my eyes again, this time a mixture of joy and relief. “I do,” I whispered.

As he kissed me that day, I felt lucky to have him by my side.

Soon, fertility treatments became our new normal. One evening, after a particularly grueling round of tests, I found Daniel staring out the window. He looked defeated.

“Maybe it’s time I resign,” I offered. My career, once a source of immense pride, felt insignificant compared to the yearning in my heart.

Daniel turned around. “Are you sure? You love your job.”

“There’s something more important,” I said, taking his hand. “You. Us. Building our family and looking after this house. I think I need to be at home more than anywhere else.”

With a hesitant nod, Daniel agreed.

Soon after I resigned, a new chapter of my life unfolded.

It was filled with doctor visits, support groups, and the quiet ache of longing. But through it all, Daniel was my rock.

Finally, after lots of medicine and appointments, Ben arrived. We were so emotional when we first looked at our tiny miracle wrapped in a blanket.

Our little family, messy and perfect all at once, became my whole world.

Last Monday was our fifth anniversary. I couldn’t believe it had been five years since we tied the knot. Time flies, doesn’t it?

The last five years felt like five decades of laughter, late-night talks, and shoulder-to-shoulder battles through life’s storms.

Looking back, a warm wave of gratitude washed over me for having Daniel by my side.

Excitement bubbled as I envisioned a romantic dinner, a night to celebrate this milestone. I couldn’t wait to see the surprise in Daniel’s eyes when I revealed the reservation I’d snagged at that fancy Italian place we always talked about.

Grabbing my phone, I dialed his number. “Hey, honey! Guess what?” I chirped.

“Hey,” he answered. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking about tonight! Where are we planning to go? Do you have anything special planned?”

A beat of silence followed, then, “Ava, there’s no need to go anywhere fancy. We’re not doing anything special tonight. No presents either.”

“Oh,” I managed, the disappointment clinging to me like a damp sweater.

“Just wait at home, okay? I’ll be there soon. We need to talk.”

Then, the line went dead, leaving me staring at the phone. What could be so important to ruin our anniversary night? Why was Daniel acting like that?

I was sitting in the living room, watching Ben play with his toy cars when the front door creaked open. Daniel walked in. His shoulders were slumped and he didn’t look like the confident man who returned home from work every day.

“Hey,” I greeted. “Rough day?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he mumbled.

A knot of worry tightened in my stomach. Daniel rarely brought work stress home, and his silence was deafening.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Just… come here,” he said, heading towards the kitchen.

I followed him, and he pulled out a chair for me after reaching the kitchen table.

“Sit,” he said.

“Is everything alright?” I asked, my voice tinged with worry.

“Not really,” Daniel replied coldly.

Then, he shuffled some papers on the table.

“What is it, Daniel?”

“There’s something important I need to talk about,” he said, his gaze meeting mine. “I’ve thought a lot about this and I finally decided to discuss it with you.”

I felt a shiver crawl down my spine. Something important? What could it be?

“Look at these,” he pushed the papers across the table towards me.

Curious, I quickly picked up the document and scanned it. The papers were filled with numbers and columns. I could tell it was a budget breakdown.

“What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“I’ll explain,” Daniel said.

He took a deep breath before dropping the bomb that turned my life upside down.

“I took some time to calculate how much you have cost me over the years together, and this is devastating,” he began. “By now, with this money, I could have bought a house or a private jet. But all I have is a wife sitting at home and living off me. I need you to pay it back to me before I start resenting you for all of my wasted potential.”

His words hit me like a physical blow. I was speechless.

After all the years I’d dedicated to their family, after all the sacrifices I’d made, he had the audacity to accuse me of wasting his potential. How could he do this to me?

This was so much more than a bad anniversary present; it was heartbreaking.

“Okay,” I managed to say. “I will pay you back, but only if you give me some time to figure out how.”

“Sure,” he said as he rose from his seat and turned around. “I can wait. I’m glad you understood what I wanted to say.”

“I understood more than you think,” I looked into his eyes. “But you better believe, this conversation isn’t over.”

Not only did Daniel waste the anniversary dinner reservation that evening, but he also broke my heart into a million pieces.

Looking at those papers, it was clear he’d calculated every penny he’d spent on me, including the groceries I’d bought to feed our family. I couldn’t believe the audacity of the man I’d married.

The final number scrawled at the bottom nearly took my breath away. $300,000.

That was supposedly the cost of my life with him over the past four years, after I’d given up my own career to raise Ben and manage our household.

Seeing those numbers on the document fueled a fire in my gut. He was going to learn a very expensive lesson.

Over the next few days, a simmering rage kept me company. While Daniel seemed oblivious and went about his routine as if nothing had happened, I spent my nights meticulously documenting the value of everything I’d contributed to our marriage.

The cooking, the cleaning, the emotional support… it all went on a spreadsheet. I even included the salary I’d sacrificed by choosing to be his stay-at-home wife.

The once lively atmosphere of our house had been choked by a thick silence. Daniel would try to make conversation, but my responses were clipped and short.

Suddenly, the man sleeping next to me at night felt like a stranger. How could I have given so much of myself to someone who saw me as a financial burden? I felt so disgusted with each passing hour.

Four days later, I faced him across the kitchen table again. However, this time I had a file clutched in my hand. My heart pounded in my chest as I placed it in front of him.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Your bill.”

He opened the folder, his eyes widening as he scanned the document. The total amount was scrawled at the bottom in bold. It was $500,000.

“This can’t be right,” he stammered, his voice laced with panic. “There’s no way…”

“There you go,” I interrupted. “Seems my contributions to this marriage were worth a bit more than groceries and rent, wouldn’t you say?”

He sputtered, speechless for once. The color drained from his face, leaving him pale and shaken.

“Ava, I… I never meant for things to get this way. I was just stressed, and…”

“Don’t,” I cut him off. “Respect and understanding are the pillars of any marriage, Daniel. And right now, all I see are cracks in the foundation.”

This wasn’t just about money anymore; it was about the very essence of our relationship. And as much as it pained me, I knew the truth. I knew I couldn’t stay with him anymore.

“I’ve already talked to my lawyer,” I continued, my voice firm. “We’re done, Daniel. We’re done.”

This whole ordeal taught me one thing loud and clear: my worth is more than a number on a spreadsheet, and I deserve to be with someone who sees that. What do you think?

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