as remembered by his friend Ger
I met Rick at age 14 in Jr. High School. Seventh Grade to be exact. We had gone to different primary schools so we hadn't even seen each other until we attended Brookside Jr. High. The first time I ever saw him was at the school baseball diamond. He was standing at home plate sending his wit back at the pitcher. He wasn't timid about speaking up. Even around strangers. Since he was never offensive, it was more welcome than not. This impressed me. We became best of friends from that day and have maintained that friendship for some 26 years. He was a Prince of a man. He couldn't be faulted in any way. It's hard to imagine that such a fine person could exist on earth. It's equally as hard to imagine that he doesn't anymore. Never was there a selfish moment with him and this I know for he confided in me with his thoughts throughout the years. I knew him from Ricky, to Rick, to Dr. Richard Sturtz. He often signed "RMS" for Richard Michael Sturtz or he would sign, in French, "I embrace you".
My mother worked as a waitress at the Canton Cafe. Rick and I went in there one day and he ordered Rice and Gravy. This I couldn't believe since it wasn't on the menu and I thought I was the only one who had ever discovered the delicacy. With whatever logic a 14 year old can have. I knew then we had some sort of special tie.
It is especially hard for me right now because since the beginning of our friendship we always referred to each other as our "Buddy, Pal and Lifelong Friend(s)". Or simply "ybpallf, Richard". As you know this is very hard on so many of us. In recent years Rick and I switched to email contact. I have a file of a few hundred memos he's sent me. I'm sorry but I do not have the strength to read through them now but will publish what I can on the web as becomes possible. The web address for this letter and what will follow is "http://www.ricksturtz.com". I have classic and humorous photos of him which will also find their way to the same pages. Including the photo of Rick jumping in the air while running across a Minneapolis street wearing a Groucho Marx Mask. I had arrived at his doorstep from California and he was walking across the other side of the street trying to be incognito until he bolted toward me shouting some witty remark. Fortunately, I happened to have a camera in my hand. Don't know why. As technology allows, I will also put Richard's voice on the Web for those who wish to download and hear.
I remember Rick turning adult before age 16. He was different than everybody else in that he was way ahead of everybody in intelligence and social skills. I was not, so it was very evident to me how he began to be so mature ahead of everybody else. His social skills were that of royalty even at 16 years old. I tried to follow his lead because we had so much fun and I learned from him.
He played the accordion before I met him but had stopped before age 14. He was also in a bowling league with some other boys around town with similar interests. He had trophies and was known for being able to break 200 without much trouble at all. Not bad for someone in 6th grade.
He was involved in woodworking, junior league baseball (Big Twins Fan), wrestling, tennis, canoeing, water skiing (both slalom and trick), snow skiing, photography, roller blading, sailing, stained glass and many years in home brewing and the art of making Mead. The drink of Knights. He was underway in creating a huge Mead collection which was to be his cellar one day when he moved into his own house. Buying a house was what he had planned for this month or next. He was also very adept at Gardening, like his father. Rick's plants were not only green but multiplied. He had a huge family of Aloe as well as herbs and specialty plants. Part of his garden could be seen from his balcony but much of it existed inside his house. Plants flourished around Rick. He even had a Venus Fly Trap which he ordered from a magazine in Jr. High. We had fun catching flies, putting them in the trap and seeing how long it would take for them to disappear.
He also enjoyed music. The Beatles and Bob Dylan were amongst his favorites. He actually recognized Bob Dylan walking into a University Bar in Minneapolis called "The Cabooze". Rick approached him before the public caught on, shook his hand and in his inimitable way thanked him for his music. Rick was cool. So was Bob. Rick played guitar himself and had a wonderfully resonant voice. He sang many songs including some popular Beatles favorites. At a recent wedding the groom, announced that he would not kiss the bride until someone sang a song with the word love in it. Richard rose to the occasion and sang the Beatles song that went... "If you promise to be true I will always be in love with you" You know which one I mean. Needless to say, the crowd was warmed by him and the women swooned. They always did. Rick was very handsome and perfect in every way. Undoubtedly one of Minnesota's most eligible bachelors if not the most eligible. It was amazing that with all the female attention that came his way, he never acted "puffed up" about it. The rest of us thought he was lucky but it was more than that.
On Sadie Hawkins Day in Junior High, the girls were chasing Rick all over the school. Kathy Walsh actually chased him into the boys bathroom where he climbed to the top of a stall wall as she tugged at his pant legs. Years later, Kathy would offer him the opportunity to get into the radio business as an announcer. Rick liked the idea and kicked it around at times. He would have contributed a lot to Radio. He had the voice, the talent, command of the language and, I think, everything else required.
He was also a Hi Fi stereo enthusiast and enjoyed listening to music in general. We each bought the same model of turntable. They were Thorens TD160Cs. Later I modified the lamps in his amplifier so they wouldn't be so bright in the night while he listened in bed. We also bought Water Beds at the same time from the same place. It was a shop called Godfrey Daniel's in Minneapolis. Along with the Indian print cloths and incense that characterized that era.
At dinner tables Rick was exceedingly polite, cordial and entertaining. He had the art of making everybody feel good and warm inside and his wit was as sharp as could be.
Often when people would find out he was a Doctor, he would be barraged with questions about other's aches and pains. Even though Rick would be at a social event, he would answer everybody's questions and have the patience to wait for everybody to have their chance to be heard. Witnessing this, I was impressed as I was many times throughout the years with him. He never ceased to amaze.
Before the age of 14, he had figured out photography both technically and artistically. He taught me how to take pictures and develop film. We'd buy outdated paper from a store uptown because it still worked and we could fit it in our miniscule (a Rick word) budgets. We found a used Durst enlarger at the Skyline Mall. We took pictures of many things including his girlfriend at the time. His girlfriends always adored him, everyone of them. He adored women too, the entire gender. He saw much more in them than most would expect to find.
Later the photographic skills he taught me were transferred on to others. Another aspect of how he reached into the lives of others.
Of course, everybody who had the pleasure of meeting him loved him dearly. I never knew of him to have a single enemy. Being so close to him for so long, this I know.
He was a person who gave, gave, gave, gave and never ever expected anything in return. Much of what he gave was in the form of things that took his time and effort. He would invest many hours of his time with stained glass for example, then he would give it all away to his friends. This past December I came to Minnesota to visit a newborn nephew. I went to Rick's house first where I found him putting together a stained glass piece in his cold and unheated garage. It was for one of his friends whom I had never met. He looked at me with that big smile and we crinkled our noses and bent our knees and arms during our handshake as we had since childhood. Years later we started adding the second hand shortly after the handshake started. His handshake was very strong. He built strong arms and hands rolling dough at Perry's Pizza in Dinkytown where he also managed an apartment tower. Later he specialized in deep muscle massage which further strengthened his muscles. A week later, Rick mailed me saying that while putting the finishing touches on that very stained glass piece, he slipped and sent it careening (Another Rick Word) across the floor where it shattered. As you would expect, he started all over and made a new piece which must have taken at least another 10 hours. Did he have to redo it? No, it was a surprise gift. Did he redo it? Yes, it was a natural part of his character to do so.
He gave his time and effort to people in many forms, all of which helped people. At Christmas he baked cookies as his grandmother had taught him and would distribute them to his friends. Even during the years while I was living abroad, he would stop by to deliver his Christmas cookies to my parents.
Perhaps most notably were his skills in Medicine. He always saw his patients no matter when they called. He would make house calls and give everyone the most care. He took pride in giving his patients the full measure of care whether it could be short cut or not. At Christmas time he would be showered with Christmas goodies from his many grateful patients.
His daily schedule was very busy. He usually didn't take time to eat and consequently stayed very trim. I know this because he told me that was the case. He actually wished he could have put on a few pounds. When I would visit him he'd be very spent at the end of his days. He literally put everything into his work. Last month he was planning a trip to California to join in on my 40th birthday party. The day before he was to arrive, he phoned to say that he had worked harder in that week than any other week in history. The next day he phoned again to announce that he had fallen ill. He had a fever and had to postpone his trip. He wanted to enjoy it when he came so he wanted to come at Easter instead. Later it was determined that he had contracted Strep Throat. Again, hard work first, pleasure second, but this time too much work. As his many patients know, he was as devoted as a Doctor could be.
He enjoyed using his father's and grandfather's woodworking tools. At 15, he took on the project of designing a Chess Set. he made the pieces with the lathe and hand carved the detail and constructed the Board from tile fragments and grout after a talent his father had developed. The frame was made from mitered walnut that he made in 8th grade shop class. Last month he said he came across it and was amazed at how good of a job he did for such a young age. I was not amazed. This was my pal Rick, he could do anything he set out to.
Rick was somebody who wasn't afraid to tackle anything. In 9th grade, he had an old Chrysler that had a bad transmission. Having no experience with mechanics, he bought a used transmission and changed it himself. He had the confidence to tackle any problem and any obstacle.
He built a Mahogany Book Shelf in 8th grade shop class. At the end of the year we had to get it home but since we did not have driver's licenses, we each took an end and carried it the two miles to his house. One in front and one in back. We had to set it down several times because it was very heavy, but we trodded on. We did it, now it sort of amazes me that we even tried.
Rick and I saw a "how to" ad in a Popular Mechanics Magazine on how to build a boat from a single sheet of 1/4 inch plywood. It was on the last day of the 7th grade. That's when we saw it. We began planning immediately and although our construction techniques were lacking somewhat, we built the boat and even though it had frequent leaks, we took a tube of PL200 caulking, made two paddles from scrap lumber and cast off the shore of Fountain lake with jars of baby food and provisions to take on an adventure. We even packed a tent. We'd paddle until we got tired then would stop, pretend our paddles were guitars and sing Arlo Guthrie songs while adrift in the lake. Most notably the motorcycle song. We would then paddle onwards back through the "back lake" and up Bancroft Creek. This was during the time that Interstate 90 was initially being built. As we progressed up the creek, the depth of the water became more and more shallow. Understandably so. It got to the point where it was only about 2 inches deep but we still tried to push ourselves along when we could have gotten out and dragged the boat. We soon realized this over a break in which we ate Gerber baby food for a snack. During our break Rick came up with the phrase we'd laugh about for years to come. It was "You haven't lived until you've had baby food". To us it was hilarious. We laughed and laughed.
Sometime later the boat was stolen. We responded by building another one. This one was built much better and didn't require the tube of PL200. As a matter of fact we put a 3 Horse Johnson motor on it and navigated around the bay. We had to put a large rock in the front though to keep it down. Yes, it was also made from one sheet of 1/4 inch plywood. AC Exterior to be exact. We painted it with "Rush Green" paint we had procured from Herter's. We christened the new boat the "Pumpkin Seed".
Procured, there's a word for you. It's another word I learned from Rick. Even during childhood, the breadth of his vocabulary was incredible. My vocabulary was greatly enriched by being around him. Some of the words he used I didn't fully understand until later in life. Then I wondered how the heck he knew all that stuff from such a young age. Of course his entire family was very well educated and duly talented. His Mother has perfect pitch and is an outstanding pianist. His father was a Major in the military as well as a lawyer and judge. Rick's father was never at a loss for words or stories for that matter. That may be where he picked up some of his vast vocabulary.
Years later we'd go on a canoe trip with Hot Dogs instead of baby food. Rick came up with new quips. We (he mostly) invented names for Hot Dogs. "Eyeballs" because that's what they're made from we thought. Hot Dog Buns were "Eyelids" and the Ketchup and Mustard were "Eye Makeup". As usual, hilarity ensued.
As young teens we had devised a plan where we could sneak out at night and ride our bicycles around town. He called it the Master Plan. It wasn't until I studied Real Estate in 1993 that I learned there is such a thing. It's used for the Planning and Zoning of cities. Another example of when I thought, how the heck did he know of that at 15 years old.
The master plan was this: We'd tell our parents that we were going to sleep out in the boat as we often did. One of us would get into the ski boat while the other would hop in the Pumpkin Seed holding onto the ski boat. We'd slowly pull away from shore and anchor in the bay where his parents could look out their bedroom window and see that we were right there. Anchored in the bay. What actually happened is we would both board the Pumpkin Seed and paddle to shore abandoning the Ski Boat (The Glastron). We would then stash the Pumpkin Seed in the weeds and take off on our bicycles. We'd return just before the parents would be rising, stash the bicycles, paddle back out to the Glastron and shove the Pumpkin Seed towards shore. At this hour the waves would have returned to the direction of shore. This made an automatic return of the little boat to shore where it would nicely remain until we woke up from whatever sleep we then took. The master plan worked like a dream.
One night, however, we had a snag. The sun was rising and we had to get back to the bay. We were across town on the other side of the tracks when we headed home. When we got to the tracks, a train was stopped. Right there. Blocking our path. We weren't sure what to do at first but Rick had an idea. There was a flat car right in our path so he hopped onto the car and asked me to start handing the bicycles to him so he could toss them across. We would then both get across via the top of the flat car. Well, Rick was up on the car and I handed him his bicycle. It was a pretty nice 5 speed that he had taken apart and completely repainted. Just as he had it in his hands we heard a clunk, clunk clunk sound way off in the distance. I think we were both trying to figure out what it was when Wham! the car he was on started moving. He threw the bike back towards my side and jumped off the train. All in the span of about two seconds. He was barefoot and when he landed it was on top of those sharp white railway rocks they used spread in places. It had to be really painful and it showed in his face. We still made it home without getting caught though.
We had many other "all nighter" experiences. Once we got tired and slept in a school bus that was parked at the fairgrounds. On another occasion we slept in a horse stable which was also located at the fair grounds.
On another occasion, the church of which my family were members had an interesting exercise. They staged a make believe situation where the kids of the church would pretend that some government authority was keeping us from worshipping the Lord. There was a secret church worship planned in the hockey rink at the fairgrounds. The kids were supposed to try to make their way into the rink for the secret service while the adults involved patrolled the entire fairgrounds as if they were some sort of police knowing there would be a secret service somewhere. If the adults caught us, we would be taken to the Albert Lea Police Department and actually fingerprinted. As if it was real. Whoever dreamed this up had a good idea because it was just the sort of thing to challenge young kids like us.
Rick liked challenges. He'd pride himself when we went camping on being able to start the campfire with a single match. He never failed. He even started a fire unintentionally in his bedroom. His father had brought a very large shell casing from the reserves. Rick used it as a wastebasket in his bedroom. He dropped a match into it thinking that it was indeed out when in fact it was at least hot enough to ignite the paper in the bin. Rick didn't realize this right away but sure did when it started to smell. He kept the bin behind where he sat at his desk those days. His desk was facing the door with a bookcase behind it just to the left as you entered the room. Luckily, Rick's dad quickly responded and put out the flames. Rick's dad came through. He sure did. He came through in a big way for me once but that's another story.
Back to Christians versus the oppressors. We knew the fairgrounds well so we planned it out and went for it. We jumped the fence in an area off the midway where there were no gates even close. We figured they'd be patrolling the gates too well and we weren't going to fall into any obvious traps. We made it over the fence without problems. By the way this was staged at night and was supposed to be called off by 10:00pm. I believe it started at 8:00. Once over the fence we crawled on our bellies towards the hog barns. It was a long way but it was the safest approach. We figured that if we made it into the barns and up into the rafters, we could scope out the access to the hockey rink without being detected. We'd make the rest of the plan from that locale. As we crawled we saw the adults patrolling and shining flashlights from cars and on foot. We'd see kids get caught and cars ferrying them off to the station.
We made it to the hog barns but once there, ran into some others who didn't have their plan as polished as ours. I forget who they were but we conferred and they decided to follow us up into the rafters. Well, they weren't as stealthy as us and made enough darn noise to attract the adults. Damn, these guys blew our cover.
Rick and I were prepared for this possibility and scattered in different directions knowing that at least one of us should make it out. Just as I was about to clear the exit at my end an adult stepped in front of me and grabbed me. Damn caught. Another adult blocked the other end of the barn where Rick was heading. Rick, as determined as he was, picked up speed and extended an elbow which found it's way into the stomach of the oppressor which cleared him from his path. Rick fled the grounds and returned to where we entered as planned in a situation as this. I was placed into a station wagon with a number of other kids that had been captured. I was in the front seat next to the door. The driver, having us captive departed from the other adults and started driving across the grassy midway towards the road which would eventually lead to the police station.
Once we were far enough away from the rest of the adults I yelled as loud as I could, "look out for the hole". The driver slammed on the brakes, I opened the car door and fled. Rick saw the whole thing from his vantage point and when I reached him we really had fun reviewing the whole experience. No, Richard and I didn't make it to the Hockey Rink although if the other numbskulls wouldn't have blown our cover we may well have. We did, however, escape the oppressors. This success was enough for we had again come through.
As exploring teenagers and against better judgement, we started smoking cigarettes. Probably because we weren't supposed to. That alone made it worth doing. It's funny some never learn that forbidding things from kids is the surest way for them to do it. No matter what it is. The V-chip that is now finding it's way into television sets will certainly backfire. Anyway, we smoked. Rick gave cigarettes the code name Harveys. He kept a diary in Junior High. The Harvey word showed up in there more than once. One of us would ask the other, "Do you have the Harveys?" We later wised up and both quit the habit, started, quit and eventually both quit for good. Once when we were driving his mother's Opel past what is now the Rugby field at Brookside heading towards Shoreland, Rick turned to me and said, "Well Ger, I'm giving her the ol' college try." With that he opened the car door and dropped out his pack of Marlboro lights.
Once when Rick's parents were away on vacation, we decided it was time for Rick to learn how to drive a car with standard transmission. Since his mother's Red Opel Wagon was in the garage, our plans were easily facilitated. His parent's had left an older woman as a live in baby sitter for the kids. I forget her name but she was so nice we even asked her if we could take the car out. She advised against it but the temptation was too great and after all, Rick did need to learn the art of driving a standard transmission. I was very much involved with mechanics from working on my grandparents' farm so I was just the man to do the teaching. Everything lined up so we snuck off with the car. It was winter and the roads were slippery. He picked it up quickly but became a little upset when he braked without pushing in the clutch thus stalling the engine. "What the hell happened?", he yelled at me. That would be the last time he would stall it and was doing fine before we were done.
Needless to say, we weren't licensed drivers at the time. Once Rick had the hang of it we decided to go somewhere. We headed off towards Brookside school. As we passed the channel one of us got the idea to take it out on the frozen lake. There was a boat ramp that lead down to an interlake channel which suited our needs perfectly. The channel was well traveled by snowmobiles so the snow above the frozen water was packed hard. This enabled the Opel's skinny tires to stay on top of the packed snow. We went down the ramp and headed out towards Fountain Lake. We started picking up speed fast and emerged from the channel at a speed of at least 50MPH. As the channel opened up, we vectored off towards the public beach not realizing that we had left the hard pack and with our velocity and momentum were setting ourselves up for getting stuck in a major way. We started to notice that we started to lose speed at a steady rate. This continued until we were stopped at least a hundred yards from any hope of getting traction to those skinny little tires. This was not good, not only were we stuck, we were stuck good. How were we going to explain this one?
Luckily, we were able to flag down some snowmobilers. Three of them. It took all three with three ropes and all the power the Opel could muster to get us back to the snow pack. Once back to the channel, we were home free. Just the same we returned the car. We made it again. Well, sort of. The live in baby sitter lady by then had realized we had taken the car and was waiting for us at the door. She said, "I'm going to rat on you". She crinkled her nose too. She never did. At least we never heard about it from Rick's folks. Nonetheless, we'd repeat her words with noses acrinkled many times over from that day forward. That lady was sure nice.
One day while walking home from school, we came across an old fisherman who was fishing along the lakeshore on cemetary property. He was nice too. He had a large hearing aid and grey plastic glasses. We asked him if he was catching anything. He said no in a quiet voice while making a perfect O shape with his mouth. As we walked away we were talking about it. It was weird that we both noticed it. We tried to duplicate it and one of us put a finger in our mouth using it in a circular motion to test how perfect of a circle we could make. We never forgot that and from time to time when one of us would answer no to whatever it was and use our finger to test our circle. Big smiles always followed.
Because there were so many kids in Junior High the lunch periods had to be broken into three separate shifts. The school had two stories and was actually a circular building with four doors labeled A, B, C and D. The lunch room was down stairs as were many of the class rooms. Lunch was scheduled so that lunch break downstairs wouldn't interrupt the classes in session on the second floor. Consequently, none of the students on lunch break were allowed upstairs where they could disturb class. It goes without saying that Rick and I spent many lunch periods upstairs. Rick and I enjoyed playing Cribbage which turned out to be a great past time while trespassing upstairs. We'd wait until whatever teachers were on patrol were preoccupied. Then we'd steal up the staircase, usually at the B entrance since it was distal (another Rick word) from the lunch room where most of the lunchtime activity went on. Once upstairs we'd make it to the nearest boy's room. The boys' rooms were at B and D doors, the girls had A and C. Once in the bathroom, we'd each enter adjacent stalls with a deck of cards and a Cribbage board. We'd deal the cards under the dividing wall and quietly get in a couple games Cribbage. Every so often we'd hear footsteps of somebody entering the bathroom. We'd go quiet and lift the cards from the floor as to avoid detection. Rick would whisper just loud enough for me to hear, "Full House" or "Royal Flush". This provoked gut busting humor that had to be controlled or our cover would be lost. Rick would put his thumb between his teeth and act as if he was biting down using pain to offset the urge to laugh. This only made things more funny. We'd use this technique for years to come but usually to heighten laughter rather than to stifle it. Man, we had fun together.
We went to a party that was at a farm south of Glenville which was some seven miles or so from Albert Lea. We had been given a ride by somebody but we didn't really know the people throwing the party. Once there we discovered it was pretty dull. Since we didn't have a car we decided to walk home which we did. It took a long time but two girls walked with us so that made for interesting conversation. When we finally got to my house the girls had to pee so we went up to my bedroom while the girls used the bathroom right next door. They must have really had to go too because we could hear a loud and powerful stream against the porcelain. We looked at each other and both bit our thumbs in a routine effort to control the laughter.
We were both scheduled in the same study hall in 9th grade. It was in the Junior High lunchroom. One of us had a roll of athletic tape which we unwound and made into a small but quite heavy white ball. Rick and I were sitting on opposite ends of the large room. The teacher who was monitoring the room was Mr. Ulman. He was a large man with dark features and quite dark complexion. He was actually a shop teacher. Although Mr. Ulman sat pretty much between Rick and I, he usually had his head down reading something. We began to play catch with the white ball. All of the other students were aware of what we were doing but we'd be careful that Mr. Ulman wouldn't see while arcing the ball right in front of him. The other students were entertained watching us get away with this frolic. Rick used a red pen and wrote T-Ball on it. I didn't learn until many years later that there is such a thing as T-ball. I accepted it as short for tape ball.
As our game of catch went on, Mr. Ulman happened to look up when the T-ball was in mid flight. He saw it right away and walked over to Rick with his palm extended. Well, Rick had missed the catch and the ball had fallen under the table near his feet. When he bent down to pick up the ball there happened to be a piece of paper also balled up down there. Rick picked up the paper and handed it over to Mr. Ulman with a shameful grin. Mr. Ulman quickly retracted his hand with a stern look, went back to his chair and threw the ball of paper in the trash. He then went back to his reading and we went back to playing catch with the T-ball. We made it through the rest of the hour without being caught again. Since the entire room of students knew what was really going on, it evoked smiles from most everybody. Yes, we were good.
During 10th grade at Senior High we both scheduled ourselves for a first hour study hall which ended up being downstairs in the basement lunchroom. Every morning for the entire school year we met at the same small round table and began each day with an hour of Cribbage.
In 11th grade, Rick had an honor pass, he had one every year of high school actually. An honor pass meant that you could use your study hall with free run on the building to go to the library or wherever you decided you needed to go. As long as it was inside the building that is. I only did well in the subjects I was interested in so I could never win the majority decision amongst my teachers which was what it took to get the pass. No problem. We had a fix for this too. Rick would go to Paul Goodnature's classroom which was pretty much unused during his study period. He'd pick up the intercom telephone which automatically rang the office. A student helper would usually pick up the phone in the office. Rick would lower his voice and say, would you please connect me with room 222. This was where I would be in the midst of a biology class with Mr. Mugli. Rick would be connected through and we'd hear a ring in the speaker of the classroom. Mr. Mugli would pick up his handset from the wall and Rick would say, again in a low voice, "Would you please send Ger to the office?" We couldn't hear this as students but I knew what was going on. Mr. Mugli would hang up the phone and direct me to go down to the office. I would then leave class and go right to Goodnature's room where we'd play Cribbage or Chess for the entire hour. Naturally we couldn't do this every day but we did it often enough to enjoy it without being caught. We were good.
Richard was incredible at reading and writing. He would embark on journeys reading huge books like War and Peace and the like, cover to cover. He read the Tolkein Trilogy Three times. Yes, all four books including the Hobbit. Not to mention the volumes that fills his book cases. It was wise to build that Mahogany book case in 8th grade for it became very necessary as time progressed. As the years elapsed he would build four additional book cases all of which were filled mostly with books and earthen bottles of Mead. He'd archive, as it were, one bottle from each batch of mead into an earthen flask with a custom label such as: Talisman's Mead, Elusive Brunette, and many others that don't come to mind at the moment.
Rick also had an incredible memory. He could quote passages from books and movies to the tee. One Christmas we got onto the subject of the Grinch. Rick responded by singing the entire song, "You're a mean one mister Grinch". He never ceased to surprise and amaze his friends.
On the final paper for his Bachelor's Degree, the professor gave him an A+ underscoring it several times adding the comment, "An unbelievable piece of work".
Rick's family had a snowmobile. An early Arctic Cat with a Wankel 303 rotary engine. It was a lemon but when it ran it ran strong. He and I (I had a machine too) embarked on a journey to Lake Mills to visit my cousins. It was bitter cold but we pressed onward. Rick had a knack for leading and charging forward against any odds. Years later he came to visit me while my wife and I were living in Holland. We borrowed another bicycle and we set out on a journey from The Hague to Paris. It was a 600 Km trip. Traveling through the south of Belgium we were hit with rain and a tremendous headwind as often develops near the sea (the North Sea in this case) and also on flat land which was also the case for us. We were both weary after what had already been a long day of cycling. We stopped and rested along the road and Rick turned to me and said, "I'm going for it". We remounted the bikes and he lead directly into the wind. I'm sure his teeth were bared and his chin was lifted for he put out a Herculean effort for the balance of the trip to the Ferry which took us another hour. He broke the wind with such resolve that it impressed me so much being behind him. It's another example of his character that I've thought of many times over the years. When the going got tough, Rick always got going.
I was visiting Minnesota one summer after finishing a long distance bicycle trek. There was a fourth of July bicycle race about to be held in Austin and I thought I'd be a sure winner. As it turned out I was way wrong. Before the race, Rick was with me, I asked him what his strategy would be. He said I'd blast off and go like hell not letting anybody pass me. I quietly noted how well that statement characterized his personality. Rick was a Rhino. He charged down obstacles and he couldn't be stopped.
Cycling was a hobby Rick and I couldn't share because the geometry of the bicycle caused him so enough lasting discomfort that he had to abandon the sport. That was too bad for we would have continued on many cycling adventures as we had ventured out so many times in the past.
He loaned out his bicycle to a friend who lost it to a thief that actually broke into the friend's house. Rick had his share of bad luck too. His car was burglarized numerous times in Dinkytown. When they stole his tape player from his glove box he replaced it with a sign that said "Bug off, it's been stolen already." Sure enough, he was broken into again and whoever the thief was, they undoubtedly read Rick's note.
Rick was always adventurous. Not a had month passed after he got his driver's license that we embarked on an adventure to Kansas City to meet a girlfriend of his, Nancy Woodworth. He had met her at one of his dad's Conferences the Sturtz family attended a few months earlier. The day he had returned from the conference, we sat for hours in my father's car while he told me of the fun they had. I remember him telling me of when they put shaving cream in place of whip cream on his dessert because the bully would come by every lunch and swipe it into his own mouth.
Rick stood up to bullies. Even big drunk ones. Rick was a man of courage and principle. He wasn't afraid of anything.
We learned to ski together. The hard way. Before we even knew how to turn, we took the chair lift to the top of the intermediate hill, pointed downhill and off we went. We would be side by side crouched down quickly picking up speed without knowing how to turn or stop. We'd keep looking over at each other crinkling our noses scowling at the challenge. We had some pretty wild wipe outs if somebody happened to get in front of us. We really didn't know how to turn. Yes, it was fun. We always had fun.
We also took off on adventures to Boulder and Estes Park, Colorado where we soon made many friends. That always happened around Rick. We would return every summer for three years. The last summer Rick went on his own. Hitchhiking.
In Estes there would be a Shoot Out Show in the town square for the tourists every afternoon. The tourists were known as turkeys but Rick and us weren't Turkeys even though we drove in from Minnesota. Rick could do the whole show by himself with all the words. We laughed so hard. But not as hard as we did when a man would come into the boarding house and steal ketchup at night. He didn't know we were watching but we were outside looking in through the windows. Still don't understand what the man in the long coat was doing with all those Heinz bottles.
Rick and I took other hitchhiking adventures. Mostly to Minneapolis during days we were supposed to be at High School. Another plan we had worked out to perfection. Even though there were no guarantees, we were always back by 6:00pm.
I was just one of Rick's many many friends. Too many for me to mention or even know about. He developed many strong friendships in college. Rico Ventura came into Rick's life during those years. Rico is like Rick in many ways including being highly talented, motivated, adventurous and the rest of it. They ventured off to Italy, Skiing, San Francisco to barely touch on it. They had similar skills at entertaining crowds. Every year at the Renaissance Fair in Minneapolis, the two would match up in an old time sword fight trying to pop two balloons that each had floating from their belts. They would go at it goading each other in the language of knighthood. For some reason these guys could call together an act in authenticity at any time. Sir Richard was a knight at heart anyway. Each year a crowd would form to watch the two and hilarity undoubtedly would ensue. For the record, Richard won the last bout.
Rick would also tease his friends. Once he came to visit Randy Paulson and I in Albuquerque. We took a two hour hike up the mountain then when we were almost back to the base Rick would say, "I went higher than you did". He teased his brothers too. At times, he'd call his brother Bob, "Bobby Pin". Bob hated this... Later Bob excelled in athletics. Some years later, Rick would say "Well, Bob finally beat me in arm wrestling".
Rick and I began what we called "Trudging across the Tundra" on Christmas eve some 18 years ago. We'd meet somewhere and head out walking through the wilderness bound in flight pants and down parkas. Our trudge would take us through hill and dale and usually end up with a big fire somewhere. In the second or third year some very good friends joined us to become the "Trudgers Five" or simply the "Trudgers". We almost had "Trudge Brothers" tattooed onto our heels but we couldn't get everybody to buy into it. Rick and I were amongst the game. The Trudgers are: Rick, Myself, Todd Schwen, Randy Paulson and Jim Hockinson. In the order of their enlistment I think. We kept a Trudgers log called "The World According to Trudge". Another of Rick's inventions. When we would return at 6:00am or so not everybody would make an entry but Richard would, always. It would be notable and invariably hilarious.
The Trudgers have all been devoted friends for these many years and at times have shared houses together.
Since Rick's passing the remaining Trudgers have trudged in his honor. During the Trudge, we saw Comet Hyakutake which came into view the day before Rick passed away. This is quite eerie since one of Rick's most elaborate stained glass works was a large four panel image of Halley's Comet. He had many hours into this work which took a few years to complete. It was on display in his Chiropractic Treatment room. All of his patients know it well. The front page of the Minneapolis Star Tribune on the day preceding his death showed a picture of this comet along with the following quotation of William Shakespeare "When beggars die, there are no comets seen. The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes." Richard was indeed a Prince, a Knight, and a Nobleman.
The movie "Stand by me" reminded me intensely of the relationship that Rick and I shared. If you saw the movie you'd know more about it. That movie had sadness as does what we are going through now. Rick was good as they come, in all respects.
I've compiled a list of attributes that characterized our dear friend Rick.
Rick was honest, enthusiastic, intelligent, disciplined, dependable, caring, knowledgeable, humble, hard working, persistent, loyal, organized, motivated, dedicated, patient, ambitious, energetic, strong, friendly, goal directed, personable, responsible, loving, thoughtful, adventurous, courageous, wise, he had faith, a positive mental attitude, was a good listener, had a marvelous sense of humor, fine character, and he showed integrity.
It's hard to imagine such a person would exist but he did. He Really Did!
Undoubtedly, Rick was all he could be, he took advantage of his talents and grew beyond expectation. He used his strengths in the pursuit of helping others. Constantly improving and giving, giving all the way. Now God has called him on a higher mission leaving his memory imprinted into the minds and lives of the many people who knew him.
We can now continue Rick's earthly mission, being all we can be and helping others whenever we can.
Good bye Rick, you were amongst the Greatest of Men and we miss you terribly!