Mikey Malanda sits on the rug in his sixth-grade classroom at Lake Norman Charter School in Huntersville, where teachers and students knew him as “Big Mike.”
Courtesy of Kathy Wykoff
Mikey Malanda’s friends and family say the 12-year-old left home last weekend the way he had every Sunday for years – riding to a nearby gas station to fuel up his dirt bike before cruising through the city on his pedal bike with friends.
He had navigated the narrow streets of his northwest Charlotte neighborhood hundreds of times, always taking extra care at the intersection of Oakdale and Auten roads like his aunt had taught him. That’s where, just after 1 p.m. on Sunday, police say Mikey’s bike collided with a pickup truck. He died at the scene.
“He just went out to get a little bit of gas so he could be able to go do something that he loved,” said his aunt, Laure Makiona. “Never did we think we wouldn’t get to see him anymore.”
The afternoon crash came just weeks after Mikey finished sixth grade at Lake Norman Charter School in Huntersville, where he had been a student since kindergarten. Charlotte-Mecklenburg police are still investigating the cause of the crash. No charges have been filed.
Mikey was headed to the same gas station his dad used to take him to before he could even ride. It was minutes from the home where he and his father, also named Mike Malanda, obsessively watched Mikey’s favorite movie, “Charm City Kings,” a film about a Baltimore teen’s dream of joining a notorious group of riders.
That was the house where Mikey’s first bike, a 5-volt electric model, was delivered to the doorstep. He lit up with excitement then, just as he did when his mother, Amie Malanda, eventually saved up to get him an even better model, the one he was riding Sunday.
“Since he was 2 years old, he dreamed of a motorcycle,” his father said. “He loved riding his bicycle and doing tricks.”
Mikey hugs his dog, Ghost, one of the many animals he loved. Courtesy of Amie Malanda
‘Big Mike’ at Lake Norman Charter
Mikey was an only child, but his cousins considered him a blood brother and his aunts treated him like a son. He spent countless afternoons playing lacrosse with his 15-year-old cousin, Tiger Mukendi, whom he desperately hoped to match in height. Mukendi had been helping him prepare for tryouts, and Mikey was planning to join the school’s lacrosse team in the fall.
“When I had my daughter, he really was just so excited about being a big brother,” said Makiona, who grew up in Charlotte. “He doesn’t know ‘cousin,’” added Lucie Bunsana, Mikey’s other aunt. “Mikey is a brother.”
He often promised Bunsana he’d make enough money to take care of her through old age. At school drop-off, he was known for stopping traffic just to hug her through the car window. When Bunsana immigrated from the Democratic Republic of the Congo in 2010, she briefly lived with Mikey’s family. She was the one who watched him take his very first steps.
“Mikey always made everybody laugh,” said Bunsana. “He makes me laugh even now when I’m crying.”
His teachers felt the same. They called Mikey’s laughter “infectious” and said his smile had a way of lifting everyone around him, even on the hardest days.
At school, he was known as “Big Mike,” a nickname his classmates and instructors used with affection. Mikey cared deeply for those around him, including the class hamster, Tater Tot, whose hefty cage he voluntarily lugged home on weekends and holidays more than any of his peers. He was happiest when he was helping others, said Principal Nick Carlascio, who recalled that Mikey went out of his way to look after younger students.
“Looking back, I noticed that he was hugging somebody in every single picture I have of him,” said Emily Kessler, Mikey’s kindergarten teacher. “He could draw you out and hold a deep conversation with you even at 9 years old,” added Carly Pasell, Mikey’s fourth grade teacher.
Mikey works with his sixth-grade class’s kindergarten buddies, a program for which his principal called him a “perfect mentor.” Courtesy of Kathy Wykoff
He had a different nickname around the neighborhood, where friends called him “Mikey the Motivational Speaker” for his commanding presence and knack for giving advice. After he and his mother began regularly attending church about three months ago, Mikey begged her to sign him up for a program where he could mentor younger kids.
“I did not know how many people’s lives he touched until this day,” Amie Malanda said. “I can say that I am a proud mother.”
Mikey Malanda and dirt bikes
As he grew older, Mikey became a familiar face in Charlotte’s bike community, known for his big smile and the way his laughter lit up a crowd. He was one of the first kids to show up for The Last Sunday, a monthly ride launched by Richard Flood in 2020 to give neighborhood kids a safe place to connect.
Mikey Malanda (center, in a gray hoodie) stands next to Richard Flood (in a red shirt) during a community ride hosted by Flood in January 2024. Courtesy of Richard Flood
Flood picked up biking in 2018, shortly after high school, when too much free time and easy access to bad influences began pulling him in the wrong direction. “Riding the bike got me away from all that,” he said.
At every ride, Flood raffled off a free bike, something Mikey and his friends always hoped to win. And while he loved speeding through the streets and practicing tricks, Mikey was just as often the one hanging back to make sure slower kids didn’t get left behind.
“No matter how hard it may seem or how hard he was struggling, Mikey always kept pushing,” said Flood, 24. “Mikey was a very strong soul.”
Flood often rode with Mikey and his mother on a nearby trail, and saw him regularly at meetups where dozens of kids would ride through the city together. Hours after Mikey’s death, more than 50 people gathered for a candlelight vigil at the intersection where he died. Even riders who hadn’t touched a bike in years showed up, Flood said. He’s planning a memorial ride later this month, set to launch from Hoskins Road.
At home, Amie Malanda can’t stop thinking about the mornings her son asked her to stay in bed, appearing in the doorway minutes later holding a cup of juice and a plate of scrambled eggs. She remembers how grateful Mikey was when she took him to New York City last year.
“I was planning a surprise trip for him to go back to New York,” she said. “And now the trip will never happen.”
His aunts are looking back too, replaying stories that keep them smiling in Mikey’s absence. The last time the boy had spoken to his aunt, she had promised to pick him up for an outing once she got back from her son’s lacrosse tournament. As always, she reminded him to behave and work hard so he could get a good job and, in their long-running joke, save up to pay for her funeral.
“Every time I saw him I said, ‘You remember you’re gonna pay for my funeral,’” said Bunsana. “Today, it’s me. I’m gonna bury Mikey.”
This story was originally published June 12, 2025 at 5:00 AM.
Lila Hempel-Edgers is a metro intern at The Charlotte Observer. Originally from Concord, MA, she is a rising senior at Northeastern University studying journalism and criminal justice.
