Fort Myers funeral director rocked by tide of violence

Edward Hickson is drowning in a flood of dead young black men. Yet the funeral director refuses to allow the bullet-riddled bodies to pull him under.

Hickson understands the Dunbar community of Fort Myers needs him. He is their grief bearer and calming presence; he restores dignity to those who lost it along the way.

And, though Hickson is willing and strong enough to shoulder Dunbar's death pains, he prays the bloody water recedes. Yes, Dunbar's senseless killings help Hickson provide for his family, but he would rather lose business than treasured lives.

However, Hickson's prayers have gone unanswered. Violent black-on-black crime continues throughout Fort Myers. So, he continues to do what he learned from his father 35 years ago in Arcadia.

AN UNDERTAKER'S ORIGIN

Hickson's father, a second-generation funeral director, taught Hickson how to care for the living and dead when he was 12 years old. "Back then, there were no EMTs. So my father and I rushed to the scene, secured the person as best we could, then rushed them to the ER," Hickson, now 48, remembers.

Most deaths that Hickson and his father encountered resulted from natural causes or car accidents. Murders were rare, but there was one that Hickson hasn't forgotten. A high school classmate's throat was cut in a bar fight. "That was tough to deal with. We were good friends and played baseball together," Hickson says.

Life soon returned to normal in the quiet rural town. Hickson continued working with his father, did well in high school and fished often. However, a phone call from Dunbar shattered the silence.

CALL FOR HELP

In the 1980s, the cocaine epidemic was laying waste to the predominately black Dunbar community. There were so many drug-related killings that Finley Carter, Dunbar's prominent funeral director, needed help. He called Hickson's father. "We would drive down on weekends to help out. And, after I graduated high school and got my mortuary license, I came down by myself." Hickson remembers.

By 1995, Hickson's experience and technical skill gave him confidence to open his own funeral home on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard in Dunbar.

It was during this time that Hickson developed his own way of caring for the living and dead. Listening to and discerning the needs of grieving families, guiding them through the intricate process of laying one to rest, providing financial assistance, and talking candidly with young people about their plight are ways in which he connects.

In the early 2000s, there was a slight downtick in killings in Fort Myers. It seemed that the worst was over. It wasn't. In the past five years, violent crime, especially in Dunbar, has neared all time highs.

A young man recently told Hickson that living in Dunbar is like being in war. "Many of the killings taking place, he said, were like casualties of war," Hickson said. "There seems to be zero understanding on the streets."

ON HIS WAY

Hickson and his wife Priscilla watch the local news with angst. More often than not, a killing in Dunbar is the top story and minutes later Hickson's phone rings. Yes. He saw the news. Yes. He is on his way.

One such call came last October. Andrew Faust Jr., 5, was killed in a drive by shooting in Dunbar. "All I saw was a baby," Hickson said of seeing Andrew's lifeless body on a cold, metal gurney.

It took the master mortician hours to prepare Andrew. Most of that time, Hickson spent praying that the killings in Dunbar would end.