"No, Mike. Not Rick... NICK."

The subject line reflects how the news was brought to me that my dear friend, Nick Danger, had died. It's part of a conversation I had with my friend, Chrissy Pryor, who told me the news.

This line and the information that followed all happened one year ago today. The second Tuesday of October.

Ironically, the first Tuesday of October, I had been fired from the morning show I was working on in Tucson, Arizona. Chrissy was one of my partners on this morning show. Chrissy, too, was good friends with Nick Danger because she had also worked in Reno, Nevada with him as I had.

I remember being so angry and upset about my termination that I couldn't focus on anything else. I was applying for unemployment and talking to attorneys about suing my former employer because of the reasons regarding my termination and treatment. While I was investigating that I was trying to find work in Tucson, whether it was radio or whatever, to make ends meet. All of it was taking an incredible toll on me emotionally, physically and financially.

And then my phone rang.

It was Chrissy. The first words out of her mouth were "Are you sitting down?". Now, immediately, I start assuming she's calling me with some kind of inside information about things being said about me being fired and blah, blah, blah.

I recall telling her something to the effect of "What? Are you calling to tell me that THEY are going to sue ME? What worse things can they do to me after what they've done, Chrissy? Are they going to fire me again? Why do I need to be sitting down?"

"Rick's dead."

I remember shutting up really quick and repeating what I thought I heard. "What? Rick's dead? Oh no. That's terrible! Rick DIED?"

Since I thought she had said "Rick", I thought she was talking about a colleague of ours, Rick Carter, that worked in Reno, Nevada. Rick is a great radio personality and voice talent. I was thinking about this as well as his wife and new twins that his wife had given birth to. I was thinking how awful it must be for his wife to be dealing with this and how sad I felt that Rick had died.

But before I could continue with my thoughts of loss regarding Rick Carter, Chrissy spoke up and repeated herself.

"No, Mike. Not Rick... NICK. Nick Danger is dead."

Even as I type this I'm becoming overwhelmed with emotion and grief.

I was standing in my bedroom. I know now why Chrissy asked if I was sitting down because I fell down at that moment into the foot of my bed and then to the floor in utter disbelief.

"WHAT?! What are you talking about? What do you mean Nick is dead?! HOW CAN THAT BE! I just talked to him on Instant Messenger last Thursday!" I said.

Chrissy replied: "All I know is they think it has something to do with his blood clots from a couple of years ago."

"Chrissy, that can't be! He was on medication for that! He can't be dead. He just can't be dead!"

That's really all I remember of the conversation. I do remember Chrissy making a joke about the fact that bad news seems to hit me on Tuesdays.

After I hung up with Chrissy, I broke down. I started beating my fists into the foot of the bed and on the floor as I cried over the information I had just received. I remember gasping for air and getting so worked up that I started to dry heave.

I crawled on my bedroom floor to the bathroom where I put myself over the toilet in case I threw up. I sat in there for a long time sobbing to myself and feeling completely alone. And then I was overcome with regret.

I tried to pull myself together and went to calling Nick's girlfriend, Brieanna. I was able to remember her phone number because it was very similar to Nick's. Amazingly, she answered the phone.

"Brieanna? It's Mike The Janitor calling."

I won't ever forget how she responded. It had been a long time since I had spoke to her.

From a deep, painful sob she said: "I'm so sorry, Mike. I'm SO sorry."

This just caused me to get more emotional because I knew right then that there was more to Nick's death than what was being told.

I gave my own condolences to Brieanna and said that I had been told that Nick had died due to complications from his blood clots that he had suffered.

Like Chrissy, Brieanna would serve me the next blow on this fateful Tuesday.

"That isn't true, Mike. Nick shot himself. They found his body yesterday in his apartment after he didn't show up to work and nobody could get a hold of him."

This new information made it that much more devastating. Brieanna also explained to me that the radio station was paying to fly his father and step mother out and that Nick's services would be the following Sunday.

With that, I made the decision to drop my problems in Tucson and take a road trip to Reno, Nevada. I told Brieanna that I would be in Reno on Friday afternoon.

After I talked to Brieanna, I called my mom. After I called my mom, I called my friend, Tim. And after I called Tim, I got a call from my friend, Bill Tanner, that I hadn't spoke to for quite some time. He had gotten wind of Nick's death clear down in San Diego, California.

After talking and crying on the phone half the morning, I passed out.

I woke up several hours later in a daze. Then I remembered that I hadn't been dreaming and that Nick was truly dead.

I had planned for this blog to be longer but I just can't bring myself to speak of this anymore. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about Nick.

I will close with this. A few nights ago I had an odd dream that I still think about. In my dream, I'm awoken in the middle of the night by a loud pounding on my door. When I open the door, there are two men in dark suits asking me to look at some pictures.

I don't ask these two guys in dark suits who they are but I get the strong impression they are with some government agency.

I agree to look at the pictures they have in a folder. As I start leafing through the pictures, none of the individuals in the photos strike me as familiar. Until I get to the middle of the stack of these black and white pictures.

I gaze in astonishment as I recognize Nick. He looks the same. Hell, he even looks happy. The photograph is a zoomed in shot of him walking into some type of eatery/deli/diner. One of the suited men asks me if that person looks familiar?

I reply: "Yes. Yes... this is my friend Nick. But this can't be. He died."

The agent replies: "No, sir, he isn't dead but he could be if he doesn't get some help. He's in danger and might try to find you."

And then I woke up... for real.

I've often wondered if this could be true. To the best of my knowledge, the only people to view Nick's body after he died were his parents and his ex-girlfriend, Amanda. I have to personally admit that I was quite angry that I didn't get to view his body.

I was also angry that I was never invited to help pack up his belongings in his apartment when his parents moved his stuff out. It was also brought to my attention that a good majority of his belongings were going to be sold on E-Bay.

I was of the opinion that these belongings should have been divided up and given out to all those that were closest to him. I know that he would have wanted it that way since he had a falling out with his family long ago.

Honestly, I just wanted to see his apartment one last time they way I remembered it. I didn't even get that.

I'm just being negative here. There are just so many unanswered questions about things involving Nick's death that have never made much sense to me. And I know they never will, either.

I sometimes like to think of him as I did in that bizarre dream. A rogue agent on the run that nobody really knew but were completely happy with and completely changed by the effect he had on our lives.

In memory of Nick "Danger" Baker
1969-2005

-Mike The Janitor
©2006
Millenoma Publishing