Richard Alan Kirsch Jr.

Richard Alan Kirsch, Jr., died with the same intensity that he lived.  He did not surrender to the incurable diseases he had lived with for the last five years.  Born on December 29, 1958, of Richard A. Kirsch, Sr., and Gloria Russo, he died of a brain aneurysm on May 20, 2015 surrounded by his loving family, just three weeks after he skied the infamously steep slopes of Tuckerman’s Ravine with his brother, Rob – a treasured annual rite since their boyhood. 

The expression “bigger than life” fit Ricky well.  His treasured pack of friends say that no one would believe the stories they could tell, but that they were all true.  Backcountry skiing, single track biking, ice climbing, mountaineering:  Ricky knew what he loved and he made sure he did it now.   No waiting until next week, or next year, or after he retired.   And no slowing down because of his illness.

Ricky adored his wife, Jodie, and his children, Samantha, Sophie and Jackson.  His family was the center of his life.  Jodie was his favorite companion and constant support, and never more so than during the difficult last years of his life.  He was fiercely proud of his kids’ many accomplishments.  He roared from the sidelines at their soccer games.  He beamed when describing their most recent successes.  He was the kind of dad who would have cheered exuberantly the first time one of his children beat him down the mountain on skis, or up the mountain hiking.  And then he would have challenged them to do it again. 

Originally from Methuen, Massachusetts, Ricky stayed close with his parents and extended family all his life.  He was devoted to his mother, Gloria, and checked in daily with his brother, Rob.  Ricky had the gift of creating and maintaining deep connections with people.  He had numerous life-long friends and he formed strong attachments with his professional colleagues and his patients.  

We all loved him back.  In Ricky fashion, he almost commandeered our love and respect.  He could be opinionated, beyond stubborn, demanding and even unreasonable.  But he came from his heart, and from his intense commitment to what he believed was right.  He engaged all who knew him more fully with life because he engaged so fully with life. 

Ricky had a very successful New York City practice as a prosthodontist specializing in cosmetic, reconstructive and implant dentistry.  He got his dental degree in 1984 and his specialty degree in 1988 from New York University.  From the beginning, his practice flourished because of his engaging personality and his commitment to his patients.  He moved into his current offices at Rockefeller Center in the early 1990s and quickly established one of the premier practices in the city.  His empathy, uncompromising ethics, quality of treatment and his brutal honesty brought him a steady influx of work from referrals, and imbued his professional relationships with the warmth of personal ones.

Ricky didn’t accept limits for himself and demanded the same of others.  The strength of his conviction that life lived at full throttle was not only possible but necessary carried others with him.  Because no was not an answer Ricky accepted, many of us who loved him did things we otherwise would not have dared to do.  We didn’t always want to go where he insisted we were going, and perhaps we shouldn’t have, but we did.  And our lives were richer as a result.

Ricky didn’t consider himself religious, but he liked to say that the mountains were his church.  Skiing on Sundays deep in the woods on Mount Mansfield in Vermont, he and his friends would say to each other:  “We’ve got to be closer to God right now than anyone else is.  God is here in the mountains with us.”

We salute you, Ricky Kirsch.  We remember you.  We miss you.  We love you.

Services will be held on Saturday, May 23, 2015 at 2 pm at All Saints Episcopal Church, Scarborough Road, Briarcliff Manor.  Instead of flowers, please consider a donation to the Mount Washington Observatory.

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