Greville Rickard papers

Greville Rickard received a bachelor of science degree from Sheffield Scientific School at Yale in 1912.

Greville Rickard. Rick has become somewhat of a legend in the Class-they call him the Iron Man. He was 66 years old when he died in El Paso, Tex. Grev was born in Denver, Colo., and that was where he was buried. After graduating with the class of 1912, he then graduated from the Yale Architectural School and for 12 years thereafter was employed in various architects' offices in Denver. In 1923 he established his own practice in New York and climbed to considerable fame, receiving the Architectural Gold Medal Award of the Fifth Avenue Association and a similar award from the Greenwich Real Estate Board for the finest residence, etc.

Grev was a bachelor and a wanderer. He was an enigma to his friends. He would build up a splendid practice with profitable clients then suddenly close his doors and go off for months on a hiking trip thru Spain or Mexico. When his funds ran out he'd come back, open up, build anew and then suddenly indulge his itching foot. In World War I he served with the Army engineers, rising to be chief of the camouflage unit in France. In World War II, too old to get back in, he acquired the same job as chief of the camouflage unit of the Office of Civilian Defense and kept up his contacts with that division of preparedness. Six years ago Rick suffered a stroke. Being practically alone in the world, he had a hard time until Jerry Holmes came to his rescue, and if ever there was a tale of loving service and brotherly solicitude, the faithful support of Jerry tops them all. Bereft of money, sick and helpless, confused in mind, it has been a pitiful situation-one which should be quietly filed away without comment, except that your Secretary is just ornery enough to report a few details, of which he is justly very proud, as it proves the lasting solidarity of his Class. Jerry Holmes appealed to certain of his classmates-I will not divulge their names-and for months they contributed towards the support of this unfortunate brother classmate. At the last, a series of hernia operations, became necessary-on top of all his other afflictions. Dave Bull came to the rescue-had Rick brought up to Presbyterian Hospital in New York and stood by all thru in ways that only a top physician in New York can do.

When everything possible had been done it was finally decided to fly Grev out to El Paso, for certain personal reasons, and that is where he passed on from a final stroke on May 3, 1956. Grev was a strange sort of man, the friend of all-a genius in his way-an accomplished pianist, a talented artist, a true Bohemian who lived only for the present. Who knows which is right-to live for each day-or to live getting ready for retirement. It is food for thought, to see how many of our classmates state in their questionnaires that they are now retired-or about to retire. I wonder whether they will be able to cram into the few years remaining to them, the enjoyment and daily zest that Grev had over his long span. Can they now be as care-free as he has always been? One sure bet is that they won't take with them any more of the material things than Grev did, when they take off-so maybe the message Grev leaves us is a good one-"The time to be happy is now and the place to be happy is here."

From Yale Alumni Magazine XIX.9 (June 1956), 43-44.