Tom Spicer Was Unique and Quirky and Awesome Until the Day He Died

Spicer was always a character.
Spicer was always a character.

"I just want basic security doing what I love and want to share. Peace-out -- Spice"

That was the last line of the final message I'll ever receive from Tom Spicer. Looking at it now, it seems as fitting as it does eerie.

Spicer was recently booted from his storefront (and the garden that was plated behind it) on Fitzhugh Avenue. I'd written Spicer because I wanted to learn more about his next move, but he said that much of his business was still up in the air. He didn't have any of the answers to my questions then, and now I'll never get to finish that interview.

Spicer, as you've read by now, died at his home yesterday. He was washing berries at his kitchen sink at home when he died, D reported. Those that were close to him will no doubt note that he was doing what he loved.

But you didn't have to be close to Spicer to feel his vacuum. Any journalist who's written about the guy will tell you he was a quirky and entertaining interview. That last email he sent me was filled with disappointment about losing his longtime shop and the massive garden he'd been tending for years out back. It was also made cracks about "gentry-fries" and his changing neighborhood.

Spicer sold produce to customers and wholesale to area restaurants for more than two decades. His recently closed shop, Spiceman's 1410, was the best place in Dallas to shop for exotic mushrooms, among other things. Spicer would sell paper sacks filled with his latest shipments from growers from around the country and then charge you $10. He called it a dime bag. It was truly a one of a kind shop, and it was missed, just like he will be.

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