My family moved to Denver in 1964 when I was 5 years old. Our parish was St John the Evangelist where Father Wicker was associate pastor. I remember my parents having him over for dinner a couple of times, and being amazed to learn that a priest was just a regular man with a special job. A few years later, when I was in the 4th grade, I had a nasty accident and broke my arm. I was in the hospital for 2 weeks. During that time I had many visits from the staff at St Johns church and school, but none was more special to me that when Father Wicker showed up bringing my holy communion and the cutest little stuffed kitty made of pink rabbit's fur. I will never forget how much that meant to me. I had been crying when he arrived, but I was all smiles by the time he left. Thank you Father Wicker for your kindness and attention to a sad child. I'm sure you wouldn't have remembered it after so many years, but I know God remembers and thanks you too. Rest in well deserved peace sir.
Toni Haskins Lesniak