A Gentle Giant

It should be profoundly easy for me to write about my friend, Mike Lewis. And yet, with his sudden and unexpected passing on January 30, I find my heart filled with such grief that it is hard to get down a sentence without thinking of Mike and bursting into tears. And there's a life lesson to Mike's story for all of us at the bottom of this post, whether you knew him or not, so if you didn't know Mike and this post gets a little too long for you, please skip to the bottom.

You see, Mike wasn't just my friend. He was everyone's friend. He was a man of such profound decency and kindness that he touched lives and he touched their hearts, too.

I worked with Mike for my 32 years at WKAR and we became good friends early on, especially during pledge periods. They were all live then and we would be at the studio for hours on end with long periods between the televised breaks. Mike ran camera then. During the breaks, the crew and I went to their room -- 108 -- and watch MTV or just hung out. There would be trips to the bar after pledge -- or our TV Auction, which lasted for 30 years. It was the best time of my working life.

Mike was always there.

Mike was always there. When I was sick last spring, he posted a get well video on my Facebook page -- Mike sending his wishes. It meant a lot. But it wasn't the first time I felt his support. He was there when my dad died. When things were choppy with work. Many years before that, I remember him walking with me and my friend Gina, for hours, after midnight, when my heart was broken and I just needed to be with people who cared.

Mike was a big guy. He told me once long ago that when he was young and walking downtown, people approaching would cross the street. He looked intimidating -- and nothing, absolutely nothing, could be further from the truth. He was the gentle giant with the heart of gold, the wonderful sense of humor, the one who spent time to please and delight you.

He was of generous spirit -- for example, his huge (and I do mean huge) video collection rivaled that of a video store.

He would loan his DVDs for $1 -- unlimited return time. Oh, and if you didn't -- or you really liked it -- he'd say "Oh, keep it. I have lots of others." And trust me -- if you were playing Trivia -- you wanted Mike on your team.

From running camera at WKAR, Mike went into video graphics. It was a new world, a new technology, and he loved it. He also loved photography and making videos and posters.

One of his most popular "gifts" was a birthday poster, often based on a book or movie, where he would put you and those who were part of your world into the picture with you. This was for my birthday...

...so was this...(It's hard to see, but Rick is the Mad Hatter, Gypsy is there and so is my dad, among others, along with my art work and good friends.)

...and this.

He celebrated "In-Between" Day (the day between my birthday and best buddy Gina's) with this:

 

And you might remember this one from my retirement (my favorite)...

...and this one...

...and this one, too.

And there were others. Like this one for Tim, 

the ultimate Cubs fan.

 

...for Andy, the dashing young student (who now works for "Parks and Recreation")...

For Mike, one of our producers at the station. (Mike always, always made me look better than I really was!)

For our friend Marge...

And lots of others, like this one for Jim.

It's a tribute to Mike that after his friends heard of his passing, we started posting the birthday posters he made for us on Facebook and a lot of us changed our profile photos to a poster or detail from one. I was amazed at the body of work he churned out for his friends.

But it wasn't just graphics. It was video and video slide shows, too. I was always "Gidget" to Mike. I don't know why -- I was never as cute as Gidget. But I loved it. So, he made this one for me last year, culling from photos on my blog, Facebook and ones he'd taken I had never seen.

He chronicled our trip to Europe with this 11-minute slide show that is a love letter to France (below some of the images are cut off because of my template, but the link gets you full screen).

He remembered Rick's family reunion with this one to the song "For All We Know, We Will Never Meet Again." I can't tell you how many tears I cried when I listened to this one.

In the 1980s when a lot of us were at odd with the world, at least romantically, we formed a group of seven friends, the SPIES (Single People in Emotional Stress). We four women and three men went to movies together, had progressive dinner parties, celebrated Valentine's Day. We might act as all seven, maybe only two or three. We got each other through a lot of tough times. Here's Mike at the Oscar party...

...and at the Progressive Movie Party. One movie per house!

Mike joined us at Christmas more than once -- sometimes for dinner, sometimes after -- just to hang out and have fun. I still look at those days as some of the best times of my life.

Mike had a lot of medical issues which forced his leaving WKAR a number of years ago. It was a sad time for everyone there and the circumstances were unfortunate. But he hung in there, ramping up his videos and posters. For so many of us, his death was unexpected. We all knew he had health issues; we never thought they would take him away from this world so suddenly.

There is the family in which we are born and the family we choose for ourselves, made up of friends. Mike's friends have been sharing stories on their (and his) Facebook page, along with photos that will be put into a slide show for his memorial. I hope he knows how much he was loved. Because oh, he was loved by so many, so much.

More than a Tribute

This post, though, is more than a tribute. There is a message that's important to share. The morning of the day Mike died -- or maybe the day before -- his last Facebook post read: "Someone call me." The replies ranged from the Facebook jokey to "Call you what?" to posting songs like "Call Me" and "Call Me Maybe." And, I might add that's all suitable FB stuff -- we all post things like that and when we offer out humor on a regular basis, we expect to get it back. Mike had a good sense of humor and knew his friends well -- I doubt he was too surprised at the replies, all in good fun. At least, I hope Mike took it all that way.

I saw that post, too. And I thought "I've got to call Mike. We'll go to Oscar movies in the daytime and I have all those photos I want to give him." I'd only seen him once since retirement and that was at a birthday party where the music was great -- but loud. We shouted at each other, even though we were side by side. It was fun. But not really "seeing" someone. In fact, that night at dinner with two of my former SPIES friends, Gina and Carol, we talked about that.

The next morning I heard from a work friend who took the time to call me (rather than discovering it online) that Mike had passed. I can't call him anymore to go to the movies or anything else.

No one can..

 My "word" of the year is Now. I sure goofed up on that one. I just hope Mike understands. Knowing Mike, I've already been forgiven, even if it will take me awhile to forgive myself.