'There's no closure'

SYCAMORE – Frank Riccardi misses the little things with his son. Like carefree spaghetti dinners on Sundays and listening to songs by The Allman Brothers Band. It was more than two years after the murder of his first-born son, Frank Riccardi Jr., 23, that the family band could find the strength to play without him, Riccardi said.

Four-and-a-half years have passed since Oct. 7, 2005, when police say Eric Laskowski, 24, met Riccardi in a rural Kirkland field between midnight and 2 a.m. on Oct. 7, 2005, to sell marijuana, then robbed him of $1,900, and beat and killed him with an aluminum baseball bat. Marijuana was never recovered in connection with the crime, and the murder weapon was not found.

Despite the conclusion of Laskowski's trial Feb. 9, and his prison sentence of 40 years, not much has changed for the Riccardi family. The fact is, no judge-imposed sentence will ever grant them peace of mind, they said last week.

"There's no end," Riccardi Sr. said. "That's the irony of the whole thing. It may be done in the court system ... but it hasn't gotten any easier. There's no closure. None whatsoever."

The Riccardis moved to Sycamore from West Chicago in 1996 to find a safer community with better schools, they said. In their time spent there, they've found many loyal friends they can count on. They are constantly finding new ones, too, by taking in those who need a place to stay and welcoming the friends of their children into their home.

Frank and his wife, Suzie, sat beside one another last week at their family-owned diner, Riccardi's, in Sycamore, taking turns tending to customers and occasionally getting up to greet friends who stopped in to visit. The two reminisced about their son, Frank, and their struggles since that October day in 2005, periodically pausing to collect their thoughts.

"I don't mind talking about him ... most of the time," Riccardi Sr. said. "But sometimes, something just gets me."

A self-proclaimed "tough guy," Riccardi laughed when he said that he sometimes feels overcome passing by the baby aisle at Target, or hearing songs like "Let it Be," by the Beatles.

The couple knows they will never again hear Frank play the rhythm guitar in the family band, see him pull up the driveway in his remodeled 1973 Chrysler New Yorker or join him to hang out with friends at his favorite bowling alley.

"I also think about the times when he was little and the things he used to do," Suzie Riccardi said with a slight smile. "Like, we had cats and he loved them, but he didn't want to pick them up because he didn't want to hurt them."

Frankie's family describes him as "the nicest kid you'd ever meet," and "a friend to everybody." He left behind two brothers, Joey, 24, and Tony, 25. Those men – combined with unwavering dedication of friends and other family members – have kept Suzie and Frank going following the nightmare of Frankie's death.

"It helped having the support," Suzie said, of the family members who attended every one of Laskowski's court dates in the DeKalb County Courthouse. "But going to those court dates, it just tears your heart out all over again. It brings it to the surface."

Learning to manage feelings of frustration, devastation, confusion and anger is a work in progress, the couple said.

"In 40 years, if (Laskowski) is still alive, he will be able to sit down and have dinner with his sister, maybe his mother. I'll never be able to eat dinner with my son again," Frank said. "Sometimes I feel like you just keep getting more aggravated. It can really consume you if you let it."

The Riccardis try their best not to let it consume them. Suzie keeps busy drawing, baking and working. Frank listens to his favorite music, plays the guitar and maintains the diner – a business he started to "reconnect with people," he said.

Although they are trying to move on, they know they will never make it beyond a certain point, they said.

But despite that, they plan to continue celebrating the life of their son and drawing on the comfort provided by their family. Frankie's friends are now considered members of that family.

"Any one of those kids, I know, that if we needed anything, they'd be there. And if they need anything, we'll be there too," Frank said. "All you can do is surround yourself with people that matter."