Student overcomes obstacles

      Connie Hicks often turns parental when she talks about her father. She sits straighter, her eyes brighten and she becomes reflective, sometimes mocking the gruff voice Stanley Hicks Sr. used when on his soapbox.
      "He was my motivation," she says. "He was also my best friend."
      Her pride seems motherly and appears justifiable when she recounts all he's done: teaching her sign language to communicate with her deaf mother, instilling the value of hard work, responsibility, education and keeping fit and preparing her for life without him.
      "He made sure I knew where `important papers' were," she said of the life insurance policy and other legal documents.
      That lesson came into play June 24, 1994. She'd pencilled him into all her big moments: high school and college graduation, marriage. A massive stroke erased those plans and put her life in a tailspin. Then she remembered another of her father's lessons, about picking up and moving on.
      That's what she's done, becoming a model student and citizen.
      "He would have wanted me to get on with life," she said.
      Valley High principal Carol Leavitt is most impressed with Hicks' zest for life.
      "She is one of the most positive, delightful students I have had the pleasure to work with," she said. "Everything about her is upbeat and happy. She makes good things happen wherever she is."
      Connie's mom, Frances, moved to Las Vegas in the early 1960s because she couldn't find a school for deaf children in her native Tallulah, La. Connie never questioned why mom spoke with her hands.
      "I thought it was normal," she said. "I figured all children had deaf parents."
      She doesn't know when she began signing, she recalls being a quick learner. Her father made learning easy.
      "If I didn't understand, I told her to `slow down' or ... write down what she wanted to say."
      Permanent sidekicks, Connie and her brother trailed their father everywhere.
      "We went to church with him, to his job (when he worked security at a credit union) to classes (when he helped teachers working with deaf pupils)," she said
      It was on those trips the elder Hicks schooled his children about helping around the house, being responsible, working hard, caring about others, getting good grades and staying in shape.
      The tag-alongs ceased when their father was sidelined by several heart attacks and forced onto disability leave. His high blood pressure had become increasingly troublesome. Obesity, Connie says, exacerbated the problem.
      While riding with a friend during the summer of 1994, Connie says her father was rushed to the hospital because he felt dizzy. Doctors moved him from University Medical Center to Sunrise Hospital where he was placed on life support. Frances decided to pull the plug.
      Connie says part of her died with him. "It was really tough for me," she said. "I was so depressed that I didn't eat for two weeks."
      What pained her was being left out of the loop. If she couldn't have a say-so in pulling the plug, at least she should have been able to voice her opinion. She was thinking about her grandma, Stanley's mother. She would be here soon. Surely, she wanted to see her son. She would have pushed for more time.
      Weeks passed before she realized why her father told her about the "important papers." By the time she entered Valley as a freshman in fall 1994, it hit her. He had prepared her for this.
      Little by little, his influence grew. She got a job and helped out more. She aimed high in school.
      "I wanted to be the valedictorian, but that didn't happen," she said, bemoaning her 3.6 grade point average but thrilled to continue a family tradition: her brother and mother graduated from Valley, the latter in 1972.
      At first, sports were a way to stay in shape, bide idle time and keep her promise to her father, but she excelled, captaining the women's basketball and track teams, being named the most valuable player of both squads and helping the 4 x100 meter relay team finish fourth at the 1997 state finals and school's Army Scholar Athlete Award for girls.
      Church activities and being a peer mediator kept her on an even keel and working with ROTC earned her a $50 "Hand Up Scholarship."
      And though his "pretty smile" isn't there to comfort her, nor his kind words to offer praise, her father lives on through her accomplishments. "He's proud," as is her mother who works with deaf children in the school district and she describes as "her sole support and inspiration." Frances Hicks returns the praise.
      This fall, Connie takes another big step: entering college. She dreamed of sharing this day with her father. He won't be there when she travels to the University of Nevada, Reno, this fall. But, she said, "His lessons will be."