I first came across Richard when he was starting off his career at Imperial College, University of London.

The Department of Management Science at Imperial College was started by Professor Sam Eilon – when asked I would always say I was related through my mother! The Department focussed on quantitative post-graduate education and research with an emphasis on becoming a centre of excellence in global terms. Richard and another member of faculty were entrusted to be my supervisors when I studied there for my PhD. And very lucky I was to have Richard because the other academic, although much more senior, was full of wild ideas and it needed Richard to ensure we kept focussed, else I’d still be trying for my PhD even now some 40 years later!  My father, who also has just recently died, always held Richard in the highest esteem, always asking after his progress.

Richard was of course VERY clever and seemed to have an instinctive understanding of complex mathematics. He was both a good researcher and widely published but also had a gift in being able to explain complex topics to the mathematically less able.

After more than 20 years at Imperial, where Richard played an important role in the widespread recognition of the Department’s status, he developed his career further in explaining risk management concepts and techniques to banks and to regulators across the globe.

We remained friends since those college days and when I look back at our time at Imperial, what impressed me most about him was his languid approach to his work, and indeed to life itself. He was as you all know a very tall man, so he was always leaning in giraffe-like when conversing with you, sashaying from one topic to the next with effortless ease. He was a great badminton player and when we played together, he sent me to all corners of the court while occupying the centre himself, hardly moving, and smoking his cigarette at the same time. Quite annoying really! We were regular members of the Imperial Wine Society and he organised many a trip to France to research the subject first-hand. At one Society meeting, when we were being talked down to by a condescending expert/salesman who told us “we’ll be tasting a 1970 Chateaux d’Yquem tonight; a treat that you will probably never be able to repeat” Richard turned to me and in a very loud whisper said “not a patch on the ’45 we drank last week is it?…”

Richard was a man of wit; a man comfortable with his own intellect,  never showing off, a gentle man in all its meanings, a man who will be missed by all who knew him.