Mike,
I can't tell you how many hours your dad hit highflys to us growing up. Your dad spent more time with me than my own during those tough years. He was always good to me, but took absolutely zero b.s. Which molded me into the person I am today. Respectful of others, and doing more listening than talking.
Almost everyday for many years I would bike down to your house, and you and I biked off to our new adventure. Mr. Hicks would tell you a time to be home, or to "stay out of trouble" and off we went. You and I would travel as far as those bikes would take us. Looking back now, we both wanted to get out our our houses. Little League to Senior League, and everything else we were two brothers. Until one day, you were gone.
Sometimes life gets in the way, and as I child I couldnt understand what had happened. Your father in his deepest despair and anguish still had the wherewithal to understand that I was a kid, and to be gentle with me, while trying to explain that his world had just changed. He told me you were gone, and he didn't know where, or if you would ever be back. With emotion in his eyes he look at me and said "thanks for being a good friend to my kid." That is the last time I ever spoke or saw him ever again. My father spent many hours that evening with Mr. Hicks trying to console him. Coming home and explaining to me that you were indeed gone. That day had a profound effect on me, because I lost a brother, and a positive parental role model (in your father) at the same time. I would eventually se you again a couple of times, but it was never the same. Those were simpler times for us, times that I look back on running around with Carl and Jarred. Times that we as kids never think would end.
I am very sorry to hear of the loss of your father, Mr. Hicks. He was a good man. I will keep you in my thoughts in this time of grief. You will always be my brother.
J. Christopher Avalos