Bloorp.

I remember this moment like it was yesterday. It’s one of my absolute favourite memories of Richard and I’m so, so thankful that my girl Christina was notorious for taking little nonsense videos on her point-and-shoot all those years ago.

The short and sweet clip you see above was one of them and for a fleeting second, I can almost make myself believe that Richie is back here with us where he belongs, smiling that little smile of his, as if nothing’s changed…

We were having a dinner party at my pal Justin’s, and our master chef Richie was teaching us how to flip pancakes.

He handed me that very pan and ran through the proper wrist flick that would send the flapjack spinning in the air, then landing smoothly on the non-stick surface. I took the pan reluctantly, afraid of dropping it or the pancake or that some general Emily Claire bumbling would inexplicably set the kitchen ablaze.

Richie, however, was firm and confident. So I went for it. There were some near misses but not long after came my first successful attempt — the pancake sailed gracefully in the air and landed snugly back in in the pan. I was so excited by this newly discovered skill that I had to fight the urge to flip every damn pancake within sight…and it was all thanks to Richie.

I miss him. I miss him so much that almost five years later, it still hurts. I don’t know if that will ever change, but memories like this help ease the pain and remind me that I once had a wonderful friend who made me a better person simply by having him in my life.

Merry Christmas, Richie.

On the night of November 2, 2005, Richard Adjei hopped on a subway train in downtown Toronto. Slung over his shoulder was his faded black canvas bag on a thick black drawstring. No one ever really knew what was in it, but everyone was sure of one thing: his trumpet was almost always there.

After his college classes finished, Richard was on his way to music practice with the Royal Regiment Band of Canada. He had been a member for a handful of years, and had his high school music teacher, Nathan Haynes, to thank for the recommendation to the military band.

Richard was last seen on a platform at Osgoode subway station by two strangers: one on the subway platform and the driver of the subway train pulling into the station the way he would on any other night.

But there was no way the driver would have known what Richard was thinking or what Richard was going to do.

As the train sped through the tunnel, 22-year-old Richard Adjei consciously set down his bag and jumped in the train’s path.

On the platform on a nearby bench, lay his canvas bag, his trumpet inside.

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