There are certain telltale signs that summer in Springfield has arrived. The weather heats up, the final school bells ring, and hula skirts begin to sashay over the Pineapple Whip trailers around town.
For more than half of the Springfield population, the popular soft-serve, dairy-free frozen summer treat invented by Dan Fortner in 1974 has been a summer staple for longer than they've been alive. This year, the long-running business began its 50th season, a monumental accomplishment for any company, especially in today's economic climate.
During that half-century, there have been many ups and downs for the Fortner family.
Pineapple Whip was born at the Ozark Empire Fair
The seeds were first planted in the late 1950s when Fortner, a traveling electrician by trade, developed a love for the food industry. Inspired by A&W Restaurants, Fortner started up his own concession service in 1966. It would become the Ozark Empire Fairgrounds’ sole year-round concessions provider for several decades. Seeking to bring a new kind of dessert to the Ozarks, Fortner came up with the concept of Pineapple Whip, a juice-based soft-serve, which he sold exclusively during the Ozark Empire Fair.
For the ever-growing fanbase, 10 meager days of Pineapple Whip a year simply wasn’t enough. Fortner saw growth potential and agreed.
Utilizing his electrical and welding skills, he and his family built a mobile trailer from the ground up. Keep in mind, this was the 1980s, decades before the big food truck boom of the mid-2000s. The Fortners could use the trailer to sell their product throughout the year.
That same trailer is still in service today at Pineapple Whip's Battlefield Road location.
Sons take responsibility as the Whip gains popularity
Between his concession business, Pineapple Whip, and becoming the general manager of the Ozark Empire Fairgrounds in 1982, Fortner found himself busier than ever. Focusing on his managerial responsibilities, he passed on his two businesses to his sons, Mike and Chris. Concessions remained the Fortners’ forte with Pineapple Whip a fun side hustle. But as the turn of the century approached, hardships arose that made the family reevaluate their priorities.
The nature of fairgrounds work had changed over the decades. Events were more frequent. Hours were longer. Difficulties were compounded as Mike Fortner began to suffer serious health problems. The Fortners knew it was in their best interest to downsize, and they put their concessions business, which had been bringing in close to a million dollars annually, up for sale in 2005.
With the world of concessions behind them, their attention shifted to Pineapple Whip.
“Between my dad's illness and transitioning out of our primary business, it was a little bleak for a while,” says Zach Fortner, Mike’s son and current owner of Pineapple Whip, “but I guess I'd call it a blessing in disguise. It was a huge change in our business because it was just a side forever. The transition out of what we've known for so long into this new thing that seemed like maybe wasn't going to support our family started working itself out. Once we started putting our efforts into that, it seems like it really came into the place that it is today.”
Life's master plan was different for third-generation Whipmaster
Around the time Pineapple Whip became the Fortners’ main focus, Zach Fortner had graduated college and begun what he hoped would be a long, fruitful career in the finance industry. Between the economy’s tremendous downturn and his father’s declining health, he decided to come aboard the Pineapple Whip trailer to help out the family business — and he hasn’t looked back since.
“My grandpa had a saying he liked to go by: Life never goes according to your master plan,” says Zach. “I don't think anything could be more true. We all have ideas and there's nothing wrong with pursuing them, but it's never going to turn out quite the way we expect it will.”
After Zach’s mom and uncle retired, Pineapple Whip officially became a third-generation family business, and Zach was steering the ship. He quickly learned that his change in career path would bring with it unique and unforgettable experiences.
“When I get to work in the trailer, making whips, talking with the customers, having fun with them, joking around and stuff — if I could make that a full-time job, I would,” he says. “I’m thrilled that I get to be involved in people enjoying their summers, making memories, building relationships. Every year when college starts, when all these students are coming into town at all the universities, we'll see big groups of them coming and sitting at the tables. Sometimes they'll stay after dark. I've had some of those people talk to me years later. They say, ‘I made some of my best friends during my first night at Springfield.’ If we can facilitate a place where people can go and have a first date or good time, I love getting to be a part of that.”
A typical day overseeing Pineapple Whip’s four locations might involve Zach Fortner running supplies from the company's warehouse to the various trucks, followed by doing some maintenance on one of the iconic Pineapple Whip hula girls, Lulu, when they start squeaking. Fun fact: Their skirts used to be made of several miles’ worth of weed eater cords, which were very heavy and could easily become brittle after prolonged exposure to sunlight.
“We transitioned to a different material,” he says. “Now we don't have to do maintenance on hula skirts. It's one of my personal favorite transitions. Like tons of small businesses, there's all these little things that you never even associate with running an operation.”
Timeless recipes and new traditions
Like his father before him, Zach had no intention of wildly reinventing Pineapple Whip or implementing any sweeping changes to how the business is run. Several new flavors are now whipped up alongside the classic pineapple, such as lemon-berry, grape, mango-peach and banana-pomegranate, but the company’s namesake—unchanged from the day his grandfather first served it 50 years ago—remains the star of the show.
“Anything that your family starts a long time ago, you want to hold it up to the standards they would expect, and maybe even try to improve it a little bit,” Zach Fortner says, “not trying to reinvent the wheel, but just make sure it's got enough WD-40 to not squeak too much. It’s the exact same recipe. We haven’t changed that a bit. It's going to taste exactly as it would 20 and 30 years ago.”
Perhaps the biggest shakeup Pineapple Whip has introduced since Zach took over is the Whip Solstice, during which the business opens up for a few days in the dead of winter. From a business perspective, it may have seemed like an utterly bizarre idea destined to fail. After all, who in their right mind would be clamoring to eat something freezing cold in the freezing cold?
“Once the chilly evenings set in mid to late September, people change their interest to other indoor things,” he says. “We slow down tremendously. There's a certain point at which it just doesn't make sense to be open.”
Yet, customers regularly expressed their disappointment that Pineapple Whip wasn’t available during Springfield's colder months. So, just for fun, Fortner decided to oblige for a few days, opening for business in below-freezing temperatures. He expected, at most, a few die-hards to show up.
What he ended up getting were almost comically long lines of bundled-up customers, some reaching upwards of 100 people. A lesson was learned that day: There’s no bad time for Pineapple Whip. For the past 10 years, the Whip Solstice has become a celebrated winter event.
“It’s been one of the better things that we've done,” he says. “A lot of people have really taken to it.”
The family that freezes together
Being open in the dead of winter did present some unique challenges.
“The first year we did our Whip Solstice, we brought out brand new ice cream machine,” Zach Fortner says. “Just got it from the factory. Something got installed wrong in the factory, and half of it crashed. We were still able to operate a little bit because they have two sides that run independently, but we were running at half capacity with a long line. So, in the cold of winter, we had to go back to where we keep the trailers stored, break it out, clean it up and get it all ready at 5:30 in the morning, freezing our fingertips off.”
What could have been a bad memory ended up being one Zach Fortner and his family look back on and laugh about.
“My little brother who lived in Texas drove up from Dallas on the first day just to see it,” he continues. “He just shows up at the back door, so we put him to work. It was me, my mom, my uncle and my little brother, Anthony. At the time, it was not a great thing, but in retrospect, it's a great memory. It was a challenge we all went through together and came out on the other side feeling a little bit closer as a result.”
Springfield has always been Lulu's home
Pineapple Whip, which has a tremendous presence in Springfield and has garnered national media attention over the years, can’t be found in many places outside of the Queen City.
“We had a couple of people approach about franchising, so we took a stab at a few,” Fortner says. “There's still one going in Robbinsville, North Carolina, one in Conway, Arkansas and one right next door in Sherwood, Arkansas. My brother's got one in Junction City, Kansas. But that's never really been our focus.
Springfield is the right size, and Zach Fortner feels like Pineapple Whip is, too.
“I'm of the mindset that growth for the sake of growth is ill advised,” he says. “I think growth is excellent for a lot of reasons for certain people. Any Fortune 500 company will probably tell you that there's a lot of upsides to it, but it comes down to what you really want.”
And what does Fortner really want?
“I've got young kids,” he answers. “It’s not the phase of my life where I'm interested in conquering the world and then looking back and wishing that I'd gone to soccer games. There might be a future in that, but right now it's not the focus. Being able to be a staple of the town without having to branch out and be this huge conglomeration of businesses all over the place — I'd much rather run what we're doing really well than have 30 locations, lose the rest of my hair and be miserable.”
Pineapple Whip: The Next Generation?
Just like they aren't interested in changing the recipe for Pineapple Whip, the Fortner family isn't interested in being miserable.
“It's taking a moment out of your day. I'm just going to sit at this picnic table and enjoy my kids,” Fortner says. “I probably work a little bit more than I should sometimes, especially this time of year. It's hard to stop yourself and remember, that's not what my focus needs to be. I know what we are. We're not some business out to change the world. We’re a little ice cream shop, and we're gonna do the best job we can with it.”
With Zach steering the Whip ship for a full decade and counting, the family legacy of Pineapple Whip looks to be in good hands at the 50-year mark.
“I'm thankful that we’ve kept going for as long as we have,” he says. “The majority of businesses don't make it past the second generation, so here we are in generation three, and I just feel really lucky.”
Still, inquiring minds want to know: Will Pineapple Whip continue to be a family affair on into the next generation? Perhaps it’s a smidge too early to think about.
“I've got a six- and a seven-year-old,” he says. “I haven’t the foggiest idea what their career ambitions are yet, but right now it's, you know, dinosaurs, that kind of stuff. Who knows if they'll be interested in doing it or not? Fingers crossed we can make it to generation four, but time will tell. I got some gas left in the tank. I'm only 40 years young.”
The Dole Whip connection
If you do a quick Google search for “Pineapple Whip,” you’ll find similar items, most notably Dole Whip, which has been served at Disneyland since the 1980s. While Pineapple Whip might not have the national notoriety Dole Whip does, keep in mind that Pineapple Whip has it beat by about a decade. Owner Zach Fortner offers some insight:
“Dole filed for a trademark in the mid to late 80s and was denied. We’d already been around for a bit at that point. Our assumption is that they weren't able to do it because of that. I won’t knock Dole for a second. It's a good company and does a lot of good stuff, but we have customers that come up occasionally who will say, ‘yours is better.’ We make ours fresh every single day, so I think we have that advantage. Dole makes theirs in a powder, which is great for a lot of reasons—it's real shelf stable—but my opinion is, there’s no beating fresh. But I’m a little biased.”
