Biggs' Zone

We still live in the first house we bought together. Therefore my next-door neighbor is my first, conventional, neighbor. Randy served his community and the city of Cincinnati as a police officer for 27 years and retired in 2018. He was my neighbor for 13 years.

10 days ago he passed away from a sudden heart attack while getting his oil changed.

He is the gold standard of neighbors now. He was always willing to lend a hand, offer advice or just chat. His favorite pastime was chatting. I lost countless hours of time I should have been doing yard work just shooting the breeze with him. He and my daughter called each other their “favorite neighbor”, she was equally as devastated. We often felt like he treated her like he would a granddaughter. She now has a Build-a-Bear Timeless Teddy, wearing a policeman’s uniform, named Randy. He is always by her side.

It didn’t matter if it was 90 degrees, 20 degrees, raining, or snowing, he was always sitting on his back patio, reading Yahoo and smoking a cigarette. He’d offer a wave and/or a quip about the weather, his wife, or current events.

It still stings when I let the dogs out. When I return from an errand or from walking my daughter to school. Or when I simply go outside for the mail or the trash.

It’s not the same without you, old man. Thanks for everything. RIP.

“Hands where I can see them!”

Randy’s obituary can be seen at the Cincinnati Police Historical Society.