One of my fondest memories of Rick Revetria was sitting on his front steps one Halloween evening in Novato. The neighborhood filled with scary houses, each more elaborate than the next. Waves of costumed children crowded the sidewalks collecting sweets that definitely weren’t recommended by four out of five dentists.
At the center of it all sat Rick, his smile a mile wide, quizzing kids about their regalia, trading banter with neighbors and handing out candy in a way that made me wish I owned stock in Hershey’s. And out of nowhere he turned to me and said, “That’s pretty good wine, huh?”
And it was.
He was one of those rare birds who paid attention to life, soaked up knowledge and had fun redistributing it. I was often on the receiving end of those smarts. He was my pal, confidant, partner in crime and wine sipping amigo.
And he’s gone.
An executive at Arthur Anderson, Jefferson Wells, Macy’s and Blue Mountain Enterprises, he also owned Crowne Markets in Sonoma. He was a consummate business guy capable of spotting a crooked number on any ledger or explaining a kink in a complicated supply chain. He consulted on everything from start-ups to blue chip companies. Rick turned problems on their heads, gave them a shake and found a better way for the puzzle to fit. Like every successful entrepreneur, he made money and liked to win. But he was also smart enough to know that life isn’t a zero-sum game. He liked deals where happiness wasn’t on just one side of the table.
Cancer claimed Rick in May at the age of 69. The disease got the drop on him because he was the recipient of a double lung transplant. The transplant was a success, but his body became a depository of so many drugs that CVS was jealous. Many of the meds were there to keep his body from rejecting the lungs. His immune system was depressed, and the cancer exploded. In March, he felt off. By May, he was dead.
He was good in the boardroom but cared just as much about relaxing on the deck with friends. Whether he was talking about why the Giants needed another lefty in the bullpen, or how to deadhead roses, or why Dry Creek Zinfandels are so good, he wanted to know what you thought—and why.
Rick could pound the table with the best of them, but he had a monster heart, a trait not seen often enough in the business world.
On a daily basis I talk to a lot of execs, CEOs who run companies big and small. They are largely smart, often confident to a fault and in a rush to demonstrate how intelligent they are. Rick wasn’t like that. He was bright, but didn’t have the need to convince you.
One other quality set him apart. He was a mentor. He saw the best in people and went out of his way to help them. He could be pushy, but it came from a place of love and kindness.
One more story. It was Christmas time and Rick and his wife, April, were hosting their annual holiday party. April had set a beautiful table, the room filled with people enjoying each other’s company. Rick asked me to sit next to him, a spot of honor at these gatherings. I began to beg off, not feeling worthy of the seat. He scoffed and smiled and pointed at my chair. “Sit down, you have to taste this.”
That night we had a wonderful meal, the evening filled with laughter and plenty of stories passed round the table. Rick spent much of the time talking to me about the wines, all local, where they came from and how they were made. At one point he said the best thing about the holidays were the people, and the gift of friendship. He went quiet for a moment looking the table up and down. He picked up his glass and sipped. “That’s pretty good wine, huh?”
And it was.
Bill Meagher is a contributing editor at NorthBay biz magazine. He keeps the wolf from the door as a senior editor for The Deal, a Manhattan-based financial digital news outlet where he covers alternative investments, small cap equity finance, the SEC and the intersection between institutional investment and the cannabis sector. He also does investigative reporting. And he frankly can’t believe the Giants this season.
