Losing a Best Friend 10 Years Later — Remembering Mike Zigler
On Friday, October 16, 2009, one of my best friends, Mike Zigler, died.
It was a stupid death. One that was completely avoidable if Zigler hadn’t been the man he was, and maybe, if I hadn’t left Las Vegas two years before to continue my life in Chicago. When people ask me how he died I joke and say, “With his hands at two and ten” — the textbook instruction on where a driver should place their hands on the steering wheel. Zigler died in his car, in the garage of my Las Vegas house, which he was renting from me.
Andy disassembled his weapon with lighting speed. He packed it away in the black backpack made specifically for a weapon of this sort. He bolted to the roof access door as fast as his little, chubby legs would carry him. He made his way through the condo/office building stairwell without being noticed just as he had done on his way up. Andy was good at his job. And for a nine-month-old baby, he was really good at it.