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Charles George Hicks Obituary
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March 30, 2015

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Preview Entry
March 30, 2015

Please don't submit copyrighted work; original poems, songs or prayers welcomed. Legacy.com reviews all Guest Book entries to ensure appropriate content. Our staff does not correct grammar or spelling.

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Memories and Condolences
This Guest Book will remain online permanently courtesy of Wayne and Elizabeth Hicks.
Resources
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Hicks Pages (100+)
See More >
Hicks Mentions
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Helpful Services
August 24, 2005
There is a meaning in everything...sometimes simple, sometimes profound. My heart still aches for an outstanding, brilliant nephew whose life meant so much to so many- family and friends.
March 26, 2005
Eternal Father, Strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bid'st the mighty Ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
O hear us when we cry to thee,
for those in peril on the sea.

fair winds and following seas my friend. May God keep you near.
October 14, 2004
Javoyne;
My sincere and deepest condolence go out to you and your family. Charles was truly an officer and a gentleman in the Georgia legal community. He will be greatly missed. May God keep you and comfort you and your family during this time.
October 9, 2004
Sharing this tribute to Charles...

AILEY, BALDWIN, FLOYD, KILLENS, and MAYFIELD
by Maya Angelou

When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down
in tall grasses,
and even elephants
lumber after safety.

When great trees fall
in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses
eroded beyond fear.

When great souls die,
the air around us becomes
light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly,
see with
a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines,
gnaws on kind words
unsaid,
promised walks
never taken.

Great souls die and
our reality, bound to
them, takes leave of us.
Our souls,
dependent upon their
nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed
and informed by their
radiance,
fall away.
We are not so much maddened
as reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
caves.

And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always
irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of
soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never
to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be
better. For they existed.
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