Richard Louis Hamlyn passed away peacefully on July 5, 2025, surrounded by family, full of stories, and—fittingly—with the Tigers on a winning streak.

Born to Charles Henry Hamlyn and Evelyne Kathrine Kassab in Detroit, Rick came of age during a time of turmoil and change, which inspired him to study the law and devote his career to building a better, more just future. He approached the game with a deep belief in civil rights and a fierce commitment to fairness—values that anchored both his professional life, the careers he helped launch, and the household he helped shape.

Rick’s legal career was marked by integrity, intellect, and an unwavering belief in the power of the law to serve the public good. He was trusted by clients and respected by colleagues not because he was the loudest in the room (though he often was), but because he was among the wisest. He played with quiet precision, always with a mind toward justice and a heart rooted in compassion.

Since 1972, there has not been a Rick without a Marlene. From the very beginning, “Rick and Marlene” became a single phrase—an inseparable duo whose partnership defined not just their marriage but their family, their friendships, and the rhythm of their days. They began their life together in Warren, Michigan, and eventually settled in Franklin, where they raised their daughters with love, laughter, and a deep sense of purpose. In recent weeks, their home became a place of gathering, where children, grandchildren, cousins, and lifelong friends came and went as Rick played out his final inning.

Rick’s definition of family extended well beyond blood. His brother Mark Hamlyn was a constant—a childhood companion, business partner, and always one of Rick’s dearest friends. Together with Mark’s wife Charlene, they shared countless memories, especially during summer gatherings in Traverse City. Also immeasurably close was Rod “Rootz” Luzi, whose family became an extension of Rick’s own. The Hamlyns and the Luzis, collectively known as the “Lu-Hams”, were an unstoppable force in backyard competitions and holiday traditions, especially their legendary Fourth of July celebrations.

Inseparable friends Lynn and Susie Ingram were part of Rick and Marlene’s story from the early innings. The two couples shared trips to Las Vegas, countless dinners, and the unspoken rhythm of decades-long friendship. After Susie’s passing, Lynn remained a fixture—often spending time at the Franklin house and later hosting Rick and Marlene in Florida. Theirs was a friendship rooted in joy, grief, and the kind of companionship that stretches beyond words.

Among the most loyal and laughter-filled in Rick’s starting lineup were the “Bahama Boys”—a brotherhood forged over decades of mischief, pranks, and unwavering affection. Rick, the late Bob Cole, Jim “Doc” Suidara, and Greg Kassab—always batting cleanup—shared post-game stories that often glossed over the errors but never missed the joy. Their laughter—loud, frequent, and unmistakable—became the enduring soundtrack of a friendship that spanned more than fifty years and countless toasts. Known affectionately as “Cuz” to one another, Rick and Greg were thick as thieves since childhood—so close, their own siblings often described them as twins.

Rick was a lifelong political junkie—the kind who read deeply, debated passionately, and welcomed ideas different from his own. He set the tone for lively conversation, open dialogue, and the pursuit of knowledge at the dinner table—values that live on in his children and grandchildren. In a world too quick to choose sides, Rick chose curiosity, civility, and conviction. During the seventh-inning stretch, he reflected with pride on the accomplishments of his daughters and the bright, brilliant futures of his grandchildren.

In his final weeks, Rick’s room became a revolving door of love. His big, beautiful Lebanese family gathered with the kind of presence that speaks to legacy. The stadium buzzed with memory, food, and laughter. Whether by birth or by choice—these players stood closest, loyal and loving, as Rick stepped into the bottom of the ninth.

Rick lived like a good season: steady, principled, full of strategy, and punctuated with moments of joy that caught you by surprise. And in the final stretch, the Tigers gave him something poetic—win after win, game after game, just when he needed them most.

The last pitch has been thrown and the stadium lights are out. The legacy lives on.

An opportunity to celebrate Rick’s life will be held on Tuesday, July 22 at 10:00 a.m. at A.J. Desmond & Sons Funeral Home, 32515 Woodward Ave. in Royal Oak. In lieu of flowers, please donate a bit of time doing good for others. If you can’t join us, please take a moment to raise a glass to Rick’s memory and laugh out loud.