Sadly, my dear friend Rich passed away last week. A bit of a showman, he sandwiched the event in between his recent 60th wedding anniversary and his birthday (this coming Wednesday).

I first met Rich and his amazing wife, Karen back in 2006 when they volunteered at Boyce Thompson Arboretum (the state park where I worked). I was thrilled to have their cheerful assistance, with even the strangest of projects, and there were plenty of those.

A hard worker, Rich took all my odd requests in stride. Once he stood for hours at a grinding wheel, smoothing away sharp edges on 1200 copper samples so I could give them to school children on field trips. I can’t say he was thrilled about it but he did it for the children.

Rich also had mischievous side. After studying background material, he led history tours of the park, pointing out unique features. I tagged along one afternoon and caught this tidbit, “See that rock formation over there? It’s 18 million years and 26 days old! How do I know that? Simple, they told me it was 18 million years old 26 days ago.” That got a good chuckle.

Even though we went our separate ways shortly after that, it was the beginning of a long friendship. Rich and Karen taught my then-husband and I important tips for successful RV living. A year later we caught up with them at their next volunteer gig in California.

When Rich and I drug our spouses along to a nearby tourmaline mine, we made a deal. He’d buy the bucket of tailings if I agreed to sort through it. It was a week before we had time to work on the bucket. We didn’t have high hopes but right away I found some colorful stones, almost too colorful. I looked up and saw that impish grin and knew I’d been had – he’d salted the bucket with little gems he’d bought online! Hysterical.

While visiting Rich and Karen at Galveston Island State Park in Texas, Rich taught me how to catch blue crabs with a chicken leg and string. We also metal detected on the beach, hoping to strike it rich by discovering pirate treasure (we came up empty-handed and it was cold but we had a great time).

The following year we popped in at Petrified Forest National Park where Rich led us on a behind the scenes hike to look for fossils. It was hot, and it almost killed me not to take anything for my collection, but absolutely fascinating.

After they settled in a cabin in Payson, Arizona we made it a point to visit at least once a year. Though Rich encouraged us to come more often so that he could have some “company food”. Implying that he never had anything good to eat and was suffering greatly. An exasperated Karen (who is an excellent cook) would roll her eyes and sigh, “Poor Richard!” It became our long-running joke.

A few years ago they moved to rural Virgina to help their daughter Kim achieve her dream of owning a flower farm and art collective. There were trees and shrubs to plant, fields to plow, meadows to mow, trails to hack in the overgrown woods, beavers in the pond to outwit, sculptures to install on the grounds, and numerous other tasks.

It got to the point where he’d threaten to leave the room when Kim would say, “I have an idea…” Though he might grumble, Rich always pitched in to help make it happen. Working a full half-day at a time (happy hour got a little bit earlier in the day over the years).

Rich and I shared a penchant for wanting to know what’s around the bend and I will miss our adventures. I know I will not be alone in missing him and his sense of humor. Mostly I’ll miss his big heart. He might have sounded gruff and cantankerous at times but he was always willing to help the people he cared about.

Happy trails, Rich, I hope you’re getting plenty of “company food”!