On Saturday morning, January 20, 2018, I received a text from my mother that said Richie had passed away. My jaw dropped and I let out an expletive similar to the one many of you probably said. Not only because the world just lost a husband, father, grandpa, and overall good man. That text told me a piece of my father just died. Because that’s the kind of effect Richie had on people close to him. He was practically my dad’s brother.
I’ll always think of Richie when I remember certain moments in my life. He’s one of the reasons I knew my voice had matured, haha. Because, when I answered the house phone in my late teens, it was usually Richie who would immediately respond with “Yo, Buck!”. At which point I would yell, “Dad! Richie’s on the phone!” I always chuckled about that.
Richie was there when my dad took me with his friends on my first trip to Las Vegas. We were there to celebrate the Super Bowl, and Richie sat next to me as a guide while I played blackjack. At the end of the trip I joined Richie for one last game and I lost my winnings, but he helped me learn to laugh it off.
And I’ll always remember his smile. I could easily pick it out of a crowd from far away. That smile was the first thing I saw answering the door when Richie stopped by my parent’s house numerous times over the years. Usually he was just making a quick football pool drop off, but he’d follow it up with a quick conversation about how I was doing. He’d always end it with “Go Birds!” before hustling back to his car idling out front.
I feel lucky my father knew well enough to keep a good man like Richie in his life. And I’m thankful Richie played a small part in mine. He will be missed.