Alex Lucio Lucero
I met Alex Lucero in the 1980s when I was attending the University of South Florida in Tampa. He introduced me to music, magic, psychology and all manner of estoeric knowledge I'd never known existed, and the two of us explored the world for several spontaneous and erratic years, sometimes hitting up against insanity, but always bouncing back from the brink. He was a great friend and a sincere person with no pretense. He was the real deal.
We lived in North Tampa at the end of 109th off Nebraska. We crashed on friend's couches, and at the North 40, but we never stayed anywhere very long. We picked mushrooms in the Pasco country cow fields. We marvelled at sunrises so spectacular the whole sky seemed to be on fire and pouring all eternity into us. He and I saw our first Grateful Dead show together in St. Pete where we walked along marvelling at Shakedown street's hippies pre-show, asking each other, "What the heck is this all about?" when some old bearded hippie who appeared to be passed out suddenly stood up, looked directly at us and sang, "The first days are the hardest days" then proceeded to slump back down into his slumber.
We went to a Rainbow Gathering in Ocala that we couldn't seem to escape for days after we'd planned on leaving for various reasons: a tire blowing out less than a mile up the road, unexplained VW camper van trouble, some hippies needing help driving them to the gathering and carrying a puppy. There were always "forces at work" when he and I were together. He was a shaman, an empath and a Loki all mischevious, knowing he had knowledge of things beyond this world. He rode with me to the Florida panhandle in 1990 when I left Florida to move to California, and we hung out with his mom in Defuniak Springs for a couple days.
Alex was a kind, loyal and complicated person, and he was always a dear friend. He collected books. He loved plants and they spoke to him. He felt real joy and real anguish. Years later in the 1990s, he travelled out to the West Coast and we hung out during the Grateful Dead Tour from California up to Seattle. He was trying to make it, I didn't realize he wanted out of something at the time. That Something had him and no one knew it. I should have known but I didn't. We were just having a good time, like old times. Once that tour was over, he moved on and I never saw him again.
I heard that Alex died in Los Angeles years later. He was too young to leave this world, but I'm certain he's at peace now. I'm sad I won't see you on this plane again. But maybe I have already. I know that when the time comes around again we will see each other and something will click, something will make us both think, damn, this whole thing happened before and let's have a beer because it's happening again like it's happened so many times before.
Life rolls on and I grow old. You won't Alex. You will always be that small skinny tan guy with the curly brown hair wearing his hippie clothes, trying to get by, with albums, scribblings or books falling out of your bag, always sharing something awesome you just discovered.
Rest in peace Alex. I thought you deserved a space up here on the internet. This internet thing all happend after you left. I miss you man.
Alex's mom Hazel Morrison's Obituary
Mary Hazel Morrison lost her courageous battle with cancer on Wednesday, March 18, 2010. She was born in Defuniak Springs, FL on July 16, 1929 to Alexander Campbell Morrison and Frances Foye Loftin Morrison.
She is preceded in death by her son, Alex Lucero, and her beloved brother, James Forrest Morrison.
Hazel was blessed with a full life filled with many experiences and adventures. Her young life was spent in Defuniak Springs, FL, Geneva, AL and Pensacola, FL. She then met and married Rudolph Frigero and lived 20 years in Buenos Aires and Cordoba, Argentina. She lived and learned many different cultures and visited many other countries. She was fluent in several other languages. In the 60's she moved back to Pensacola with her husband, Hector Lucero and was quite the entrepreneur. She owned and operated several businesses including Morrison Motor Co. Inc.; one of nine Florida auto dealerships owned by her brother, Forrest. Afterwards she opened one of the first flea market/antique mall concepts in Pensacola, named, appropriately, "Garage Sales," In the last 70's her Mother wished to live out her years in her hometown of Defuniak Springs. Hazel moved her Mother and two children to Defuniak where she owned and operated Therapeutic Skin and Scalp until her retirement. Most recently, Hazel moved to Dallas, TX to be with her son , Michael, due to her failing health.
Hazel loved life, loved people and lived life to the fullest. Her sense of humor was second to none. She loved animals and always had a stray or two in her care. She loved her friends and family unconditionally. She had a knack for telling quote "stories" of uber proportions which we all enjoyed over and over again. Her love and laughter will be missed. One of her favorite songs was Frank Sinatra's "My Way." Hazel was adamant about her legacy, she wanted to be remembered for "doing it her way."
She was of the Catholic faith and loved Rosary.
Hazel leaves behind her loving son, Michael Lucero and his wife, Nellie, of Princeton, TX, as well as numerous other family members and a host of friends.