Frozen Dead Guy

Our story begins in Norway when Bredo Morstoel died of a heart condition in 1989.  Shortly after his death his daughter, Aud, and his grandson, Trygve, decided to freeze him so that he could be revived if and when scientists discovered a cure for his heart ailment.  The pair shipped the corpse to a cryonic facility in California where it stayed for three years. 

Eventually Bredo’s kin decided to create their own cryonic facility.  Apparently Norway wasn’t cold enough so they came to Colorado, bought some land, built a primitive house, and brought in a Tuff Shed to house Bredo.  They stored him in a plywood box with foam and hauled in truckloads of dry ice to keep his temperature down.    

Because Trygve had overstayed his visa, the U.S. government deported him, leaving Aud to care for Bredo on her own.  Eventually, word got out that her home had no electricity or plumbing.  As this violated local zoning laws, the city fathers ordered her to leave the property.  Aud informed the city that her dad was frozen in a shed in the back yard.  She feared that he’d thaw out if she had to leave.  She also divulged that another man, Al Campbell from Chicago, was in the box with her Dad.  Al’s folks wanted Al kept on ice until a cure could be found for his liver disease.

All of this was too creepy for the leaders of Nederland.  They swiftly passed a law prohibiting the keeping of dead parts of any “biological” species, including but not limited to humans or animals.  They exempted “carcasses” of people who were buried in a cemetery or stored in a research facility.  They also allowed cremated ashes to be stored in residences. 

But the ordinance may be overly broad.  It literally prohibits hunters from mounting deer heads on the wall.  It outlaws displaying a stuffed owl or a prized trout.  Owning a mink coat or leather belt may be illegal.  As Trygve’s attorney pointed out, the ordinance literally prohibits homeowners from keeping turkeys and vegetables in their refrigerators.

Some local residents didn’t want to let the dead bodies go.  They formed a Freeze Tax Waste Committee to fight the law.  Meanwhile, Mayor Brown vowed, “I won’t allow this to be turned into a dog and pony show!”

Eventually, the pro-Bredo forces sold the town leaders on the idea that Bredo could help pump up the local economy.  Believing that thousands of tourists would want to come to Nederland to celebrate a dead guy kept in a backyard shed, they began working on a Frozen Dead Guy celebration.  The idea took off.  The festival is now one of the most popular in Colorado.

Each March, Nederland’s population swells with folks who gather to “honor” Bredo.  The celebrations include coffin races, a slow-motion hearse parade, frozen tee shirt contests, a “polar plunge”, numerous musical performances, a frozen turkey bowl, and a frozen fish toss. Tours of the Tuff Shed help fund Bredo’s maintenance.  There was even a movie titled “Grandpa’s in the Tuff Shed” and a sequel “Grandpa’s Still in the Tuff Shed.” Out of deference to the Mayor, there is no dog and pony show.

So, what happened to the ordinance?  Despite potential litigation from companies like Bird’s Eye, Green Giant, the National Taxidermists Association, and the Fur Information Council of America, Nederland has left the law on the books. Perhaps they’re OK with one or two frozen dead guys hanging around, but they may want to use the ordinance to keep out additional corpses. After all, they don’t want to be the site of the next zombie apocalypse.