Just Mike.

We called him Big Mike for 12 years. Then he told us he would like to be called "Just Mike".

He even had a ball cap made that had Just Mike embroidered on it.

Mike lived for 13 years in the flat on the corner diagonal from our store. He spent half his time on his farm in northern Ca. He made his living legally growing strains of medicinal herbs.

Around the beginning of 2009 Mike passed away in his flat do to heart complications.

He was in his early fifties. His death was a sad shock to the neighborhood.

About a week later a familiar looking large man appeared in front of me while

I was working at the store on a saturday morning. I had never seen him before, and he looked at me without expression. I asked if I could help him and he introduced himself as Mikes brother, Steve. He lives in Pittsburgh Pa. where he and Mike were raised.

He asked If I could help him sort through Mikes belongings. He had heard that I could asses the value of some of Mikes collectables.

Being that I had an employee then, I accompanied him across the street and up to the 3rd floor flat. He proceeded to tell me how he had arrived the previous day and that the police investigators had then given him the keys to the flat. The flat had been treated as a crime scene.

Steve went on to tell me that he had left the flat the previous night to get dinner and that when he had returned the locks had been changed. Having a locksmith friend in San Jose, Steve had the locks renewed again that evening so that he could enter and sleep.

We were in the flat for about 30 minutes when we heard someone trying to pick at the door lock. We both quietly went to the door and Steve looked out the eyehole. When he did he saw police officers. As he informed me of that we heard a loud "San Francisco Police, open the door now!" Steve raised his brow as if to ask me what to do. I told him to open the door.

What happened next was very unexpected and horrific, and it bonded Steve and I in a way I could never have imagined with someone I had just met 30 or so minutes before.

Upon unlocking the door, five officers with their guns drawn burst into the flat yelling at us to get on the floor spread eagle position. As the door was opened I was the first person encountered and instantly I was staring at 3 guns pointed 6 inches from my face and a loud amped command coming from several officers at once to get down!

Steve was experiencing the same with 2 guns in his face.

We were told to not say a word as we lay silent and they proceeded to make sure we were the only ones there. The whole time we each had an officer pointing a gun at our backs. Eventually one officer went through my pockets as I lay silent and pulled a wad of cash from my front pocket and exclaimed "Ahhh drug money!"

At that time I said "If I may speak officer, if you look in the middle of the money you will find a travelers check made out to Positively Haight Street, 14oo Haight Street. If you look in my wallet in my back pocket you will find my drivers license with the same address. The money is my stores deposit for the last several days."

Slowly they got it and they explained how the landlady had just changed the locks and now she saw us up here from the sidewalk and figured we were criminals looking for drugs.

After many apologies they left. They were not police officers from our neighborhood so they did not recognize me.

After a week of helping Steve sort things out, Steve decided that he would like me to take possession of Mikes golden Buddha. So it sits in the window.

There are other stories that are part of this one and they will be told another time.