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A Recovery Story: With a Little Help from my Friend

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This is the first time in more than four decades, I won’t be able to wish my dear friend and lifelong mentor, Happy Birthday. Sadly, Michael “Mike” Lackey, 77, died on July 3, 2025. If you read his online obituary, Michael Lackey Obituary (2025) – Lima, OH – The Lima News it details his noteworthy career as an award-winning journalist. Still, it doesn’t mention the fact, he forever changed a life. Mine.

Truthfully, I wanted to write, “A Tribute to Mike Lackey” column years ago. When I asked his permission, he erupted into laughter, finding the idea hilariously funny. Ever the newspaperman, he turned serious and said something like, “They won’t publish that kind of column, until I’m dead.” As usual, he was right.

Mike Lackey spent almost four decades keeping his west central Ohio community informed. He first joined the staff of The Lima News in 1972 as a sportswriter. Originally, a Dayton native, he graduated from Kettering Fairmont West High School and then Earlham College.  

By the time I met him in the late 1970s, he was the assistant city editor at Lima News. I was in my early twenties working dead end jobs trying to pay my apartment’s rent. Depressed and broke, I had been forced to quit The University of Akron in my junior year and come home to Lima.

As a teenager, my battle with depression began. While a 16-year-old junior at Lima Central Catholic High School, a near fatal suicide attempt landed me in the local psychiatric ward followed by commitment to Toledo State Mental Hospital. Eventually, self-medicating ongoing emotional struggles led to addiction.

Mental Health was in the infancy stages and individuals like myself, were frequently either ostracized or demonized. Despite this, I desperately wanted to become a journalist. Although the stigma surrounding mental health issues was rapidly closing the door to my professional opportunities. Almost miraculously, when I could no longer bear my hopeless circumstances, I met Mike Lackey.

About the same time, I was fortunate to enroll in Bluffton College with a goal of completing my degree. Under the direction of the late Dr. Lawrence Templin at Bluffton, Mike Lackey, by then city editor, took me on as an intern for the 1981/1982 academic year. He was aware of my past but gave me the opportunity anyway. As with all cub reporters, the veteran editor painstakingly and with impeccable integrity taught me the “nuts and bolts” of reporting. 

Mike’s disability was more obvious than mine. He was born with cerebral palsy. He struggled to walk unassisted, fighting confinement in a wheelchair. I learned to fight for a better future by watching him valiantly defy his own physical limitations. Through his steadfast example, he taught me to never use a personal disability as an excuse. Rather the talented wordsmith relied on his brilliant mind to forge his path in journalism.

While he was an incredible editor, he was also a gifted writer. He returned to his craft full-time becoming well known as the Lima News columnist for decades. Inevitably, a wheelchair did become part of Mike’s reality, so did numerous statewide Associated Press Awards, along with the respect of countless community leaders.

Mike Lackey believed in me, when no one else did, not even myself. I often wonder how many other aspiring journalists this natural mentor inspired. In 2008, the award-winning writer was forced to retire prematurely after a daunting battle with Guillain-Barre syndrome. The disease caused him to have an extended stay in a nursing facility.

But in traditional Lackey style, he fought his way back, later writing the 2013  award-winning book, “Spitballing: The Baseball Days of Long Bob Ewing” about a former Cincinnati Reds player. Mike’s true love was Reds baseball. Winning or losing, he was a faithful fan. 

 As for faithful, following my internship, Mike Lackey remained a mentor and friend for the rest of his life. For decades, he would edit books or articles I wrote, refusing payment other than a Kewpee double cheeseburger. He beamed with pride, when I finally won my own 2014 Ohio Associated Press award.   

The veteran newspaperman took a chance on me as a young woman struggling to overcome the societal stigma regarding mental health/addiction. This helped me fulfill my dream of becoming a journalist and provided the incentive for learning to live in recovery one day at a time. If you want to honor his legacy, you could give someone like me an opportunity.

In the end, my heart is filled with gratitude to God and also profound grief. I’m beyond grateful God gave me the gift of Michael Lackey as a lifelong mentor and friend. The grief is knowing, I will always miss him more than words can express.

Of course, the missing is worse on special days, like his birthday. So, “Happy Birthday, Michael! I couldn’t let the day go by without letting the world know how you forever changed a life. Mine.  

Christina Ryan Claypool is a Chicken Soup for the Soup and Guideposts book contributor and author of the inspirational, “Secrets of the Pastor’s Wife: A Novel.” Contact her through her website at www.christinaryanclaypool.com.

An Obituary’s Message to Call your Mother

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Mom, This one's for you!

Mom, This one’s for you!

Earlier this year, my local daily newspaper changed the placement of the obituaries moving them to page two. I’ve often wondered how many other newspaper readers are like me, keenly interested in the obituaries. I also question how my gradual transition from reading the comics as a teenager to devouring the death notices as a boomer occurred. Once, an elderly relative humorously confided that he read the obituaries right away to make sure he wasn’t among those listed. Of course, in case you miss one, you can simply go online and Google the person’s name and date of death. Often you can even post condolences to the family or send flowers if you like. Facebook can be another great way to be alerted to the passing of a friend or former co-worker when someone posts their obituary online. Living in a society that is in a constant state of flux geographically necessitates that we stay in touch electronically.

But what’s so important about an obituary anyway? In explanation, caring about people makes you realize what a vital part that death plays in the game of life. Commemorating those who have gone before us is an integral rite of passage, and being there for those left behind is of paramount importance. Yet, to be there, you have to be informed, thus the relevance of the obituary.

An obituary can tell you a lot about a deceased individual, even when you think you already know them. Then there are times, when you aren’t acquainted, but you are startled by the details of their death and human curiosity and compassion kick in. For instance, when someone young dies, even when they are a total stranger, most people probably lament this untimely passing in a deeper way. We sympathize, because the death of a child is every parent’s worst nightmare, and your heart aches for those suffering this loss.

There is death by suicide, too. An obituary doesn’t usually reveal this heartbreaking detail. However, sometimes you can read between the lines to decipher that for some reason an individual could no longer bear to be part of this world. Other tragic deaths include accidents caused by alcohol consumption or those drug-related, of which there are far too many lately. As with a violent murder, the facts are frequently disclosed in a related news story. Another heart grabber is when several members of a family die together.

No one is spared the pain of burying loved ones, that’s why it’s necessary to be there for those left behind. I learned this valuable lesson in my youth, when a teenage friend committed suicide, and I failed her dear mother who was like a second mother to me. In the midst of this crisis, I disappeared. I didn’t visit the funeral home or call, because I was terrified of dealing with death. It wasn’t death itself that frightened me, rather the fear of saying or doing something wrong, or of not being strong. My misconception was that I wouldn’t be missed, but I was.

Growing up through my own funeral home tour of duty I have come to realize that you remember the faces there, and you are acutely aware of the absence of those who don’t come. It’s a defining moment like serious illness, when you realize who your true friends are. After all, the Bible says we should, “…mourn with those who mourn.” When I do pay my last respects now, I no longer feel overwhelmed by the need to have eloquent words of comfort. I simply say how very sorry I am, and offer a hug, remembering how grateful I have been for those consoling embraces in days past.

I wish I could give Robert Downey Jr., my condolences and a big hug. Sadly, the famous actor lost his 80-year-old mother on Sept. 22, 2014. A few days later, he courageously posted a beautiful obituary that he had written about her on his official Facebook page. He candidly included that his mom’s broken career dreams were caused by alcoholism, something she successfully overcame. He even credits a 2004 phone call from her as the catalyst for his own sobriety today.

Obituaries like Downey Jr.s’ are a startling reminder to the living to appreciate our tragically flawed loved ones. He closes it with the poignant words, “If anyone out there has a mother, and she is not perfect, please call her and say you love her anyway…”

Oh, how I wish I could, but the only obituary I’ve ever written was my mother’s. Still, maybe it’s not too late for you to take the actor’s wise advice and call yours.