Welcome to Ricky's, I Am Ricky!

Crossing the threshold, we were immediately met by a dark skinned man with bright eyes and a bright smile. Flamboyant and poised, “Welcome to Ricky’s, I am Ricky!” he said. The restaurant was nicely decorated with colorful ceiling flags, strings of colored lights in artistic designs, and photo collages of pictures and newspaper clippings. We were asked where we wanted to sit; we chose the table closest to the door. It was not that we felt we needed to be able to leave fast; we just wanted to be farther away from the music speakers. A 50’s music mix flowed from the speakers on the small stage at the front of the room. Ricky sat us and in a flurry returned to his table of friends.

We had a very nice dinner, the men ate rib eye steak and the women ordered breast of chicken. It was served in a very nice presentation and was incredibly good. It was ladies night at Ricky’s and so their drinks and food were half off, this made the meal well worth dropping in this Christmas Eve.

As soon as we had our desert I got up from my seat and walked back to check out the collages of photos. The first two groups were shots from big parties at the restaurant. I skimmed over the photos, it was mostly Ricky and his friends, Ricky with women, couples, and a few shots of people dancing. I noticed Ricky up on stage and playing a guitar in several of the shots, but nothing said who “I am Ricky” was.

The next group of photos told more of the story. Before me were newspaper clips describing the air crash of a large Canadian commercial air lines. It included stories of how badly hurt Ricky was and how heroic he had been during the crash and rescue. There was a citation of bravery and photos of him in a wheelchair. As I looked over the photos Don, Caroline and Linda finished their dinners and the table was cleared.

I returned to my seat and within a second Ricky checked in on us and asked how our dinner had been. He sat and began to tell the Ricky story from beginning to end. He was interesting to listen to and boy that man can talk!

Ricky has dual citizenship in Canada and Costa Rica; he was born in the rainforests of that beautiful lush country and started singing when he was very young. As Ricky spoke we all listened intently, because we could not get a word in edgewise. We learned that he was in the largest Canadian airliner crash in their flying history, which he had survived but was very battered and was told he would never walk or sing again. Several times he alluded to the fact that Canadian pilots stop by his place and remember the crash as they eat dinner. “This is a very popular restaurant you know” he would say with a smile. He explained his injuries in detail and made comments about the surgery for burns and the replacement of his teeth. He repeated that he had only had plastic surgery around his eyes and that only when he was tired can you notice some clues that he had gone through such trauma and pain. The plane crash was 19 years ago and now he looks better than ever. I admit I would have never placed him at 69 years of age.

Ricky talked about his daughter and her grand kids, his ex-wife, his sister who died 12 years ago of cancer. We learned he has a girlfriend who was involved, as an innocent bystander, in a nationally publicized bank robbery. She was instrumental in guiding the SWAT team via cell phone to get the robbers. Ricky related stories of the parties where famous people had stopped by and played music at his restaurant. One of the stories was of Carlos Santana’s cousin, Mario Santana, who is “just as good as Carlos.” Mario played to a packed house at Ricky’s; it was the event of the year.

While Ricky talked he dropped hints about his performances on Ed Sullivan, he talked about how he had taken the aircraft that night and his band “The Travelers” had driven the equipment to their next gig, and thus his band evaded the disaster of the plane crash. He went into detail about his ethnic background and his heritage lines. Each time he mentioned an event at Ricky’s he emphasized how popular the place was and how his management ideas and style made fans of the establishment. We listened and he talked.

After about 45 minutes we had to excuse ourselves and leave. Ricky was very nice, a gentleman, an entertainer. As we walked back to our house, which was just around the corner, we laughed about Ricky and how he told us so much without any of us asking a single question. Linda had noticed that he kept saying how popular his place was, but we were his only guests of the evening. We had passed the place many times the past two years and there had never been more than a couple people in the restaurant.

At home I Goggled Ricky Campbell, Ricky Campbell and the Travelers, Canadian air crashes, and everything I could think of to find out more about Ricky, but I couldn’t find anything. I even Goggled Mario Santana, but only found a soccer star by that name.

The pictures on the wall tell the story. The news paper clippings are real and the citation of heroism was as authentic as anything I have seen. Christmas Eve in Melaque, at Ricky’s, eating and drinking with Ricky himself; could we have written a better chapter in a book? I don’t think so.