Along a stretch of wooded road between Interlochen and Karlin sits a big red building with a long, strange history.
It’s called the Fireplace Inn.
For generations of locals — and for decades of Interlochen campers and counselors — it was the place to go for a drink, dance, or just to blow off steam after a long shift at camp.
The building today stands mostly empty, its dance floor quiet, its stage unlit. But ask almost anyone who spent time in the area between the 1970s and early 2000s about the Fireplace Inn, and their face lights up.
We know, because we asked.
The beginning
When asked about the Fireplace Inn, many people started their story with rumors. Stories passed around like ghost tales.
PAUL ANDERSON: “The story was that it was a brothel back in the day—in the '20s or '30s. Yeah, it was, you know, a prohibition-era kind of place for the Chicago gangsters to get away.”
TOM WRIGHT: “The lore was that it was built in the '30s to be an inn of ill repute. I don't know if that's true or not, but I think it did have a history during prohibition of being a club where you could go drink.”
Later, in the 1950s and early '60s, it operated under a different name.
DON KOMRSKA: “Well, there was a lot of deer at the Fawn [Hotel] and Supper Club. I'm trying to think when that was. We were married already — in 1950."
VIPPY KOMRSKA: “I thought it was interesting name. They had a lot of deer around."
DON KOMRSKA: "People would come up and have an apartment upstairs, and they could come down and eat, drink and stuff like that, but it never, never had enough people to make it work, really."
The Fireplace Inn era
It was only in the mid-1960s that the Fawn Hotel became the Fireplace Inn — a gathering spot for locals to see a wide range of music from rock-and-roll to twelve piece big bands.
CHERI ANDERSON: "The Fireplace Inn was full of people. Everybody was having a good time.”
TIM PERRY: "I was 18. Every Wednesday night was rock and roll night. That's what I went to. We just had a good time when we went there."
PAUL ANDERSON: “My first summer was 1959 My dad worked here on stage crew and but so I'd been to the Fireplace Inn for years and years and years as a restaurant then older, to shoot pool and go to rock and roll night and jazz night and country night."
Each weeknight had its own musical identity. Jazz. Country. Rock.
But Monday nights — those were reserved for polka.
Polka night
In the summer of 1978, a new tradition was born out of the Interlochen Arts Camp counselor scene — polka night.
CHERI ANDERSON: “1981 was my first summer here. Everybody was talking about it. At first, I thought: this cannot be serious. But once you went? Oh yeah. You were there every week after that.”
The night started late—after counselors put their kids to bed.
J BERRY: "It was at 10:30 at night when it started, because you had to wait for the counselors to put all the kids to bed and make sure that everything was all buttoned up."
And then, the place would explode with music and movement.
CHERI ANDERSON: “It was packed. You had a finite space, and the more people that heard about it and had a good time, the more wanted to come.”
J BERRY: “You walked in and it was there a couple hundred people in there."
TOM WRIGHT: “A lot of these people — they loved to play because they didn't cost anything — but they could drink free beer if so you played. And back then, you know, my contract for a counselor my first year was for $275 for the whole summer. So nobody had any money. And so if you had free beer someplace — just by playing the instrument you love to play — it was an invitation to do that."
TOM WRIGHT: "There could be 200 people there and you knew everybody to one degree. And so to me, it was clean, wonderful fun."
The dance floor
Polka night wasn’t just about the music—it was about finding your rhythm with a partner. Sometimes it was graceful. Sometimes... less so.
CHERI ANDERSON: "I think my feet might have hit the dance floor once or twice — you know, the tips of my toes — but most of the time I was just laughing and getting thrown around like a rag doll. It was just hysterical."
J BERRY: “You figured out who were the good dancers and who were not the good dancers. And you tried to steer clear of the not-so-good dancers, because you'd end up flying into the kitchen at some point."
CHERI ANDERSON: “It was sort of like, 'Ah, he's a menace! Stay away from that one!" You know, because you're gonna get knocked over or off this little raised stage.'
And while the Fireplace Inn is quieter now, the memories are still fresh for many people — especially those polka people.
