Linda K. Hicks

In Loving Memory of Linda K. (Johnson) Hicks

Flower Child • Family Matriarch • Notre Dame's Loudest Fan

Linda K. (Johnson) Hicks born August 31, 1951, in Niles, Michigan to Fay and Millicent (Smith) Johnson danced her way into eternity on July 7, 2025, at exactly 7:48 p.m.—a time oddly poetic for a woman who always had perfect timing when it came to love, laughter, and knowing exactly when to bring out the goods for a party.

Born with a free spirit and a fierce heart, Linda was a proud graduate of Marcellus High School, Class of 1970—a true flower child who never lost her groovy touch. She carried that spirit into everything she did: gardening with bare hands and a full heart, finding peace in the trees, talking sweetly to her flowers, and still somehow managing to tell Marvin the Martian he was her favorite alien (sorry, ET).

But more than anything, Linda loved her people. On March 23, 1991, she married Donald Ray Hicks, who preceded her in death. She was the sun, moon, and gravitational pull to her Eight adoring children, two daughters Deha (Dan) Watson and Jamie (Drew) Hicks, six sons Ryan (Michelle) Johnson, Brett (Leslie) Sheline, Trenton Ward, Robert (Laura) Bradshaw, Heath Hicks and Jeremy Hicks. 25 grandchildren, and 12 great-grandchildren—each one her favorite, depending on the day and who was asking. Her house was never empty, her hugs were never short, and her advice was always given with love (and a little sass).

She had a deep and loyal love for her dogs—Brutus, Princess, and Roscoe—who surely greeted her in heaven with tails wagging and muddy paws. She also shared snuggles, sass, and a strong side-eye bond with her beloved cat, Mr. Butters, who remains here to supervise the family in her stead.

Saturdays in the fall were sacred to Linda—because Notre Dame football was on. You were either rooting for the Irish or sent to get ice. Dan and Jen’s home was hallowed ground for football parties with her best friends, complete with shouting at the TV, dancing in the kitchen, and finger foods worthy of a stadium. Time spent with them and their combined families meant the world to Linda.

Linda moved through life with rhythm in her soul and love in her bones. She could turn any moment into a celebration—and usually did, with a little dancing, a lot of music, and maybe a flower crown for good measure.

Her faith was unwavering. Though our hearts are broken, we take comfort in knowing that she now rests with the Lord she so dearly trusted. Heaven just got a little louder, a little brighter, and a whole lot more fun.

She was our matriarch, our pillar, our glue, and now—our guardian. The depth of this loss is indescribable, but so is the beauty of the legacy she leaves behind.

Rest in peace, sweet Linda, Mom, Gram, and GiGi. Save us a seat at the game, a spot in your garden, and a dance under the stars. May we always see you in the leaves, hear you in the chirp of a bird's beak, and feel you in the warm sunshine on our faces.