I went to England for Whitby Folk Week in August, 2002. I barely knew Micca, but he offered to give me lodging at his home in Plaistow in the London area before and after the festival in Whitby. He wasn't much of a walker, and I ran him ragged walking around London. But he wanted to make sure that I had a good time. In the process of my visit there, we became fast friends. He attended the Getaway camp in Maryland, and I'd see him there - and I always enjoyed him so much.
And then I was surprised as heck when he asked to come visit me with ClaireBear here in my home in the middle of nowhere in the Sierra Foothills - so he met my wife and family, too.

He was always so enthusiastic about everything, and he treated every person he knew as a treasure. And he loved to sing his silly songs - and we all loved those songs, especially "Gladiator" and "The Hash My Father Scored." He knew what it meant to take delight in life.

And I loved him.
So many of us did.
God, we're gonna miss you, Micca.

-Joe-