05/27/2026
A man’s relationship with his barber is deeply personal.
People often think a haircut is simply cosmetic, but it is much more than that. A barber helps restore confidence. He is the person who ensures you walk into interviews polished, sit in meetings assured, stand before crowds presentable, and carry yourself with dignity. Before weddings, funerals, graduations, dates, church services, business meetings, and many of life’s defining moments, we sit in that chair.
And somewhere between the fading, lining, clipping, and shaping, a barber often becomes more than a professional. He becomes a trusted listener, a source of encouragement, a voice of wisdom, and, in many ways, family.
Rico was all of that.
Rico…
You were part of the rhythm of my life. Part of my weekly routine. A meaningful part of my presentation and confidence. You helped me appreciate the way God created me. Your work gave people confidence to face the world, and that is a gift that should never be overlooked.
But beyond your talent, I admired the father you were.
When childcare fell through, you brought your children to work. You continued to provide. You continued to show up. You refused to surrender to pressure or stereotypes. You led with strength, consistency, and love as both a man and a father. Your children witnessed resilience firsthand.
And now my heart is heavy.
To watch your family lose your grandmother, grandfather, and now you all within six months feels unimaginable. It feels deeply unfair. It feels like an overwhelming amount of grief for one family to endure in such a short time.
Truthfully, my faith is struggling right now.
Because if Jesus Himself cried out on the cross, “My God, why?”, then I believe it is human to admit when we also have questions. I certainly do.
Yet through the grief, I keep returning to these words from the Book of Wisdom:
“The just man, though he die early, shall be at rest… Having become perfect in a short while, he reached the fullness of a long career; for his soul was pleasing to the LORD…”
Perhaps some souls fulfill their purpose in fewer years than others ever do in a lifetime.
Perhaps God saw your labor, your love, your fatherhood, and your heart, and welcomed you home with the words, “Well done.”
Perhaps Heaven needed you more than we did.
But here on earth, we grieve.
My eyes are filled with tears. My soul aches. My spirit feels crushed.
Please keep the Baker family in your prayers, the MHS Class of 2009, and pray for me as well. We all need a little more faith right now, because this loss hurts deeply.
