My family has been living in Inglewood for the past 21 years. That same apartment building on Eucalyptus Avenue where my youngest brother Benjamin was born is where I go have a meal that I could never recreate. Not far from there, just one and a half blocks away is a 7 eleven where they know us by name. Outside of that convenient store we all met and fell in love with a homeless man by the name of Mike. Mike hung outside of the store when my cousin Jorge, who now lives in Oklahoma, worked the graveyard shift. One morning as my mom and dad stopped for coffee on their way to work, Mike approached them for change; a request that both my parents were happy to fulfill.
From that point forward, my mom became Mike’s buddy; and as a result my dad, my brothers, my cousin and I became part of his circle of trust. Every morning, without fail, we saw Mike. With a big smile and a warm reception. We never knew Mike’s age but we knew he had kids and had been married. Mike would tell us stories of his days as a boxer in Alabama and how he made his way to the west coast in search of bigger and better things. Sometimes Mike would go missing for a few weeks and reappear with a haircut and clean shave after a visit with family member. At times he would go to jail for several petty charges and be released a few days later. But no matter what he went through, no matter how unbelievable his most recent experience, he always had a hug and a smile for his buddy and her entire family.
One day Mike disappeared and we convinced ourselves that he would come back with a new haircut and shave. Sadly, that was almost 10 years ago and there is still no sign of our buddy Mike. My parents and siblings continue to visit that 7 eleven pretty much everyday. New staff has come and gone and learned all of our names. We have bonded with fellow customers as we cross paths during that one stop that we make as we go about our day. Yet, the place just isn’t the same.
I really wish we knew where Mike went and how he’s doing. My parents and brothers have often asked themselves what they think happened to Mike. What ever turn that kind man’s life took, we sincerely hope that it was for the best. To those who never met Mike, that busy 7 eleven in the corner of Centinela and Eucalyptus is an average convenient store. But ever since our buddy Mike stopped coming around, there has always been a void that has been impossible to fill. Where ever you may be Mike, a big hug to you buddy.
