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David Richards
October 25, 1949 - July 16, 2026
David Hunt Richards, 76 of San Luis Obispo, California passed away peacefully on July 16, 2026. Dave was born on October 25, 1949 in Granville, Ohio to David and Elizabeth Richards. After graduating from Yale University in 1972, he moved to Los Angeles, California. David worked as an architect for HED (Harley Ellis Devereaux) in Los Angeles until his retirement.
David was married to Geoffrey Tuck, an artist and writer in Los Angeles. Together, they shared an interest in the visual arts, and spent much of their free time meeting local artists, touring their studios, attending their gallery shows, and collecting their art. Geoff wrote “Notes on Looking” a blog about their experiences, and together, they hosted a series of artist retreats in Parkfield, California.
David is survived by his siblings Ann Dodson of Columbus, OH and Tom Richards of Toledo, OH and his sister-in-law Amanda Tuck and brother-in-law Jim Tuck of Pasadena, CA as well as many, many friends.
Dave would be honored if members of his circles of friends would gather on their own to reminisce, share stories and enjoy some laughter. Interment will be at Imusdale Cemetery in the Cholame Hills area near Parkfield, California at a date yet to be determined.
Donations in David’s honor may be made to SLOMA (San Luis Obispo Museum of Art), local NPR station KCBX, or a charity of your choice.
To send flowers or a memorial gift to the family of David H. Richards please visit our Sympathy Store.
Roger McDonald posted this about David:
David Richards died earlier today at his home in San Luis Obispo, California. Prostate cancer had spread into his bone marrow and progressed rapidly. My wife and I had seen him in April; he was in good spirits. (See #991.) I thought he had much more time.
Dave was my best friend for nearly 64 years, since 7th grade at Wilson. Those of you who knew him, know what a class act he was: After all, he was "most likely to succeed." Our class has lost one of its best and brightest.
Rest in peace, David.
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Roger McDonald
(I think Dave would have chuckled about the verbal gaffe in his "obit." God, I wish he were only being interned.)
Meeting Dave Richards in the fall of 1962 was a game-changer for me. Visiting his home on Howell Drive in "Morgan Manor," I found a room whose walls were covered with his paintings and drawings, and his current project, detailed architectural renderings of ancient Byzantium's fortifications, covered his desk. Clearly, this guy's horizons were not those of the typical Wilson Junior High seventh-grader. I was enthralled and continued to be so for the next 64 years.
It is very difficult, if not impossible, to convey in words what Dave came to mean to me. He was the touchstone, the one you wanted to run something interesting by to learn his reaction, as his knowledge was encyclopedic and his judgments informed, even when we differed. Last spring, I told him of a 600-page history of Venice I was reading preparatory for an Italian trip, and of course his response was, "Oh yes, that's a fine history, but have you tried Ruskin's 'The Stones of Venice'?" He was useful, too. Should you think you were the smartest person in the room, a quick glance at Dave was sufficient to curb such pretension. But he always leavened his intellect with humor and humility. He was the total package.
A welter of memories has flooded my mind since his death: listening to "Sgt. Pepper" for the first time at Jim Wenner's house in Heath, a Math Club skit with a transparent parody of Wilbur Powers, stumbling across fields from Newark to Granville in a successful search for the Alligator Mound, visiting him at Yale in the early '70s, learning that he was gay shortly thereafter (and instantaneously aware that if my admired friend was gay, gay was okay), a gaggle of Italian Maoists waving sunflowers and chanting Communist slogans over our inebriated selves on a tramcar in Vienna, visits to his various abodes in Los Angeles (especially the hacienda in the Hollywood Hills with views to die for), his architectural tours around the city, introducing him to my wife Emily who came to love him also (and his penchant for martinis!), a surprise 50th birthday party we threw for him in Brooklyn, descending into Death Valley to the strains of Wagner's "Parsifal," his move with his beloved partner Geoff, later husband, to the small, isolated hamlet of Plainfield east of Paso Robles and their patronage for young LA artists there, our walking with Geoff and him on the shore at Morro Bay, venturing to Palouse, Washington a few years ago to see Malcolm Montgomery (who has known Dave since nursery school!).
But, as I said, a long list of such events can never encompass my thoughts and feelings about Dave. He enriched my life beyond measure, and for that I am forever in his debt. Aristotle devotes more space to the subject of friendship in his "Ethics" than to any other topic: Having known David Richards, I now know why.
Kathy Applegate (Danner)
What a wonderful tribute to Dave, Roger. I didn't know Dave that well, certainly don't have stories to tell like Roger, but for all Dave's intelligence, he was still down to earth, friendly, kind, and had a sense of humor.
My condolences go out to Roger for losing his best friend of so many years and to our entire class for losing one of our best and brightest highschool friends!