By Bill Forry
Managing Editor

It was only half-past seven and already Florian Hall was as packed as it's ever been. And still they were coming: Neighbors on foot from the slopes of St. Brendan's, pals trucking it in from the old Ronan Park days, corrections officers just off the clock at South Bay. By the end of the night, there were more than 1,500 souls in and around the firefighter's union hall by some estimates. Even that head count might've been a bit modest.

They'd come - one and all - to remember Ricky Dever, a man that the papers called a Good Samaritan, a hero last year around this time. This assembly, though, just knew him as Ricky, a great "kid" who most certainly would have been among them this night- probably for some other good cause- but for that awful night in Charlestown last March.

Dever, it is alleged, died at the hands of a career criminal, a Charlestown hood out of jail just three weeks, in an early morning confrontation that should never have happened. When Francis Xavier "Kicker" Lang stole his life that morning, witnesses say that Dever, 35, was following his law enforcement instincts, trying to play peacemaker.

The grief that gripped Ricky's family home on Myrtlebank Ave. - and so many nearby streets - on March 18, 2005 looks different today. The pain is still there - and so is the anger. Real closure, in the form of a conviction for the animal who stabbed Ricky and caused this tragedy, is still months away at best.

But, the Dever family - and their legions of loyal friends- have slowly begun to pick up the pieces and tell their story. Ricky's story.

Around 9:30, the Irish band stopped playing and the Dever family and a few of Ricky's closest friends quieted the room and took the stage. Fr. Dan Finn led everyone in prayer. Ricky's older brother Tim and pal Mark Murphy kicked off the remarks. Pat Lawlor, one of Ricky's closest friends and old roommates, told a funny story that captured his buddy's ability to make the best out of a bad situation.

Brendan, Ricky's younger brother who has since followed his fallen sibling into the corrections department, spoke too, about his parents' amazing courage- not only over the last year, but throughout their lives.

Finally, it was Bill Dever's turn to speak. A former probation officer who spends his "retirement" working odd hours as a longshoreman, Mr. Dever is a reserved, gentleman who had some things to get off his chest Friday night. And in an unselfish style typical of his family, Dever wasn't just mulling his own loss.

"Right after this happened, I started thinking of the similarities between Mark and Ricky," Bill Dever said later. "I knew I wanted to say something about how their lives mirrored each other. It's a story that's never been told," he said.

Mark Charbonnier, a Ronan Park kid just like Ricky Dever, went to St. Peter's School and Don Bosco and dreamed of someday wearing the uniform. He lived to see his dream fulfilled and was working as a Massachusetts State Trooper when he was killed in the line of duty in '94, gunned down by another hood who should never have been on the street in the first place.

Most of the folks in the room last Friday were friends with both Ricky and Mark, two neighborhood pals who were several years apart in age but brothers in spirit.

"Mark looked after Ricky," Bill Dever remembers. " They had a special relationship. These were two Dorchester kids growing up, a few hundred feet from one another, both from Ronan Park, the same corner.

"They were a couple of Dorchester kids that we can be proud of," Ricky's dad says.

Mr. Dever talked for about 15 minutes and, as Tim Dever would say, it was "up and down" for a while.

"Dad stressed that we keep their story going," says Tim.

Before Danny Gill and the Old Brigade took the stage again to play some more Irish tunes, the D.J. cued up an old Kenny Rogers song that someone left by Ricky's grave last year: "A Good Friend".

Earlier in the night, Quincy's Stephen McGee, the son of a fellow corrections officer at South Bay, became the first recipient of the Ricky Dever Scholarship. It will go each year to the college-bound son or daughter of an officer. More scholarship money in Ricky's memory will also be directed to parochial school graduates in Dorchester.

The Dever family hasn't decided yet if they'll make the anniversary of Ricky's passing an annual gathering. The money they raised last Friday night will be more than enough to keep a scholarship fund in Ricky's name flush for years to come. Funny thing is, the family didn't even set up a money table in the Florian lobby: People gave anyway.

"It was well worth it," says Bill Dever. "It was a rememberance and it was to give thanks to everybody who's been so good to us this past year. And to keep his spirit alive."

Author's Note: Anyone interested in contributing to the Ricky Dever Memorial Scholarship Fund can send donations in that name to MembersPlus Credit Union, 494 Gallivan Blvd, Dorchester, 02124.