Lloyd A. Froelich

Obituary for Lloyd A. Froelich

Beloved husband, doting father, well-known CPA and decorated Vietnam combat veteran.

Lloyd Froelich's funeral will be Monday, April 27, 2026, at Gloria Dei Lutheran Church, 700 South Snelling Av., St. Paul. Visitation starts at 10:00 am, with the funeral at 11:00 am and luncheon to follow. Plentiful parking. Handicapped accessible with interior ramp and signs to the elevators.

Lloyd Froelich was born August 13, 1949, in Mandan, North Dakota. He had many close friends and had wonderful memories of playing ball and swimming in the town pool. Lloyd was proud of his early entrepreneurial efforts. At age 8, he bought newspapers for two cents and sold them for a nickel at the local bars. Some of his first profits went to a pack of cigarettes, which he and a friend tried out behind a barn.

When his parents divorced, Lloyd and his mother and sisters moved to Fargo for his junior high years, and then to St. Louis Park to finish high school. You could take the boy out of Mandan, but you couldn’t take Mandan out of the boy. Lloyd traveled back to Mandan by train every chance he got, and stayed with his grandparents and friends. He was always thankful for Richard Carrier and Rich’s parents.

His high school years were good ones. He spent a lot of time with his cousins and through them, met Tom Dahlstrom, who became his life-long best friend. He discovered his life's calling after getting a part-time job with his uncle, who was a CPA. From then on, he had a plan. He went to the University of St. Thomas in 1967, where he was active in ROTC and the Arnold Air Society. He graduated with a degree in business.

As soon as he finished St. Thomas, Lloyd reported to the USAF for the six years he had promised. He trained for nine months to be a navigator, learning to navigate by a compass and the constellations as well as by machines. Since he was near the top of his class, he had his pick of assignments. He picked somewhere stateside. Then he learned that a guy who was married with a baby on the way was being sent to Vietnam, and Lloyd was given a choice.

Lloyd took that man’s spot, and soon was on his way to spend a year in places like NKP, Thailand, and Danang, South Vietnam. That’s where he was exposed to Agent Orange, which has killed hundreds of thousands of men and women who served in the Army, the Air Force, the Navy and the Marines.

He flew 126 combat missions. The average was 70. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, the third highest USAF medal, for exceptional work while in aerial flight. That could have been the night his plane was shot 21 times. He mentioned this DFC only in passing.

Lloyd often said he felt safer in the air than on the ground. He was shot at in planes and survived missiles strikes on the base where he was sleeping.

He did not speak of other parts of being a navigator, not for nearly 50 years. A navigator didn’t just navigate; he also had to man machine guns, alongside the gunners. He shot at and destroyed trucks running supply routes, and he shot at other airplanes. Those drivers and pilots and gunners were enemies, but they were people. That is what wounded his heart.

He came back from Vietnam changed, as did so many others. He described his time in Vietnam as “being in color,” and his life back home as “being in black and white.”

He plunged into work, starting as an accountant with his uncle, Andy Froehlich. He passed the CPA exams and soon made partner, with the new firm known as Froehlich and Froelich. He got a dog, a little Boston Terrier, and Bos (one s) became his constant companion.

He met M.E. Kendall on her 32nd birthday, and they married three years later. He said she brought color back into his life. After years of infertility and then more time waiting for a birthmother to choose them, son Max came home in 1990, and son Sam in 1993. Lloyd was over the moon happy to be a husband and father. As the years passed, he enjoyed spending time “up north” on Grindstone Lake, and traveling. He volunteered with the Ramsey County Humane Society first as treasurer, and later as president of the board.

He also found friends in the neighborhood, joining them every Saturday morning to solve the world's problems. After 20 years or so, the Downtowner Woodfire Grill memorialized the Breakfast Club with a picture of them on the wall. Bill, Kit, Mike, Greg, Tom, and other guys brought a lot of laughter to his life.

Meanwhile, his CPA firm expanded and merged, becoming House, Nezerka and Froelich. He ended his working years as a partner with Wipfli.

Lloyd retired early due to health issues. The damage from Agent Orange had started showing. First, an abdominal aortic aneurism, then the loss of a kidney and part of his second kidney, and then, in 2018, carotid artery disease caused serious strokes that left him with brain damage. He had to learn to walk, to speak, to understand words again. M.E. became his caregiver.

At home, he discovered Facebook, and through that, the AC-119 Gunship Association. Lloyd had navigated those airplanes, and was excited to learn that there was a place where veterans could gather and talk about their experiences. We went to the annual gatherings in Salt Lake City, Washington, D.C., Colorado Springs, and other places. He, along with many other members, was interviewed on video about his experiences in Vietnam. He cried openly during his interview and insisted that his tears not be edited out; instead, they were to be left in so that others could have their feelings validated.

He started spending some days at the Minnesota Veterans' Home Adult Day Center in Minneapolis, where he made new friends, and where he and his buddy, David, colored and talked about their lives. Having the opportunity to socialize with other older veterans made him happy and improved his life. This adult day care center is one of only two in the country, and we are deeply grateful that he had the opportunity to go there. We are thankful for the outstanding staff who cared for him.

Lloyd never gave up. Not. Ever. He never complained. Not. Ever. He showed us what true courage and grace looked like as he accepted what came. And what else came? Parkinsonisms. Then Parkinson’s. Extreme high blood pressure. Severe neuropathy. The beginnings of multiple myeloma. PTSD. Walkers, then rollators, then wheelchairs. And so much more. So many visits to the ER. So many hospitalizations. So many pills. And he never complained.

Nearly 14 years after the Triple A, and eight years after the serious strokes, Lloyd suffered a fatal heart attack. He died on February 5, 2026. The autopsy showed he also had coronary artery disease and ischemic heart disease, more Agent Orange presumptive diseases.

Lloyd was a remarkable man. He took whatever was given him and was grateful for it. He was humble. He was even-tempered, kind, honorable, and brave. Courageous. Loving. Honest. Ethical. Trustworthy. Quick with a quip. He worked hard. He called himself a “simple” man. Maybe that’s true, but he was an exemplary man, an outstanding man, a remarkable man.

He loved his wife, who was his rock. He was her rock, in return, for over 40 years. He loved his children with all his heart, and they loved him back. We, his family, are fortunate to have had such a wonderful man in our lives. We miss him so much.

In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in his memory to the Minnesota Veterans' Home Adult Day Center, 5101 Minnehaha, Building 4, Minneapolis 55417, or to the Animal Humane Society.

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