MICK must have been about 12 or 13 when he first started coming into The Heavy Metal Shop. I remember that he was with his mom and grandma. They would buy him T-shirts—of course, Mick would pick out Cannibal Corpse, Slayer and Samhain shirts. Like most kids, the gorier, bloodier or most offensive shirts were the ones he picked, especially if Mom was buying them. I usually get the evil eye from the mothers, like it’s my fault. Mick’s mom and grandma were the opposite of that––they were so nice. I would see them quite often and was always happy to see them. They were very supportive of Mick’s interest in music and understood how important it was to him. I got to know Mick pretty well. He was a regular at the shop, so when Jimmy was finishing up college, I asked Mick if he was interested in working at the shop. I knew that he would be good, with his vast knowledge of music, and at such a young age, too. His passion for music was much like mine, and I felt that we were kindred spirits in that respect. I loved working with Mick—we experienced lots of funny and crazy stuff at the shop, like the time this customer became obsessed with Mick. He was an older guy, and I know this freaked Mick out. One time, this guy showed up at the shop right after Mick had closed and was driving away from the shop, and this guy chased Mick’s car down the street until he stopped. Mick told the guy NOT to do that again. This guy kept coming in long after Mick had left for California and joined Eighteen Visions, and would always ask about him. When the shop was located in the Redman Building, Mick and I put together a “garage sale” T-shirt rack, and we would sell our old band shirts. We would always laugh when we would see people wearing our old shirts: “That’s my Dead Kennedys shirt.” We have continued the “garage sale” even to this day. Mick had just checked with me the day before he left us to see if any of his stuff had sold––nothing had. He said he would be down soon with some more shirts. Mick always kept in touch when he was out on tour and would always come and see me when he was in Salt Lake, telling me about meeting Dimebag, or hanging out with Lemmy, etc. … I’m gonna miss talking and hanging out with Mick. To me, he will always be that 13-year-old kid with that passion for music. R.I.P., buddy. –Kevin Kirk