Richard Cary

Richard Norman Cary, known affectionately as "Dicky" to those who loved him, passed away at the age of 77 after a life rich with family, humor, and the enduring spirit of Oklahoma. He is survived by his cherished children and grandchildren Amanda and Tim Davis, Aaron (and Tia) & Adam Davis; Jon and Beth Cary, Carston (and Hadley) & Parker (and Miriam) Cary; Erin Hartsburg, Jayden, Jemma & Jack; Eric and Holly Cary, Eric, Nova, Phoenix, Rinoa, Cid, & Seraphina, his beloved brothers and spouses Don and Ellen Cary and Dale and Mary Ruth Cary, and a host of nieces, nephews, and extended family.
Born on June 12, 1948, in Hollis, Oklahoma to Cecil and Velma Cary, Dick grew up with two older brothers, Don and Dale, on the family farm near La Casa. His early life was filled with colorful adventures-from tricycle mishaps (courtesy of "Don Andretti") to unforgettable Saturday nights in town and red bean dinners that became lifelong favorites.
Dick's upbringing on a farm instilled in him a strong work ethic and a deep connection to the land. From hoeing cotton and changing irrigation to milking cows and gathering eggs, farm life was a constant companion. He often recounted the simple pleasures and occasional tribulations of growing up with an outhouse and a cistern, and the weekly ritual of Saturday afternoon baths in a large wash tub, "whether we needed them or not."
Food was a central part of the Cary household, with his mother's cooking always a highlight. While he may have groaned at the frequent appearance of "red beans again!" at dinner, it's a testament to the enduring power of comfort food that one of his favorite meals became red beans, fried potatoes, and cornbread – or as his brother Don would exclaim, "that's larapin!"
His childhood was filled with the playful antics of his older brothers. He often recalled lying awake on "wolf alert" after Don and Dale playfully warned him of wolves jumping through his bedroom window. And the legendary "outdoor shower" incident involving Don, an outhouse, and the unexpected arrival of visitors, remained a source of family laughter for years. Dicky's own brush with mischief, a perfectly aimed rock at a zigzagging chicken, also became a cherished anecdote.
Dick attended Gould school through his sophomore year before the family moved to Hollis, where he graduated in 1966. That same year, on August 28, he married Jan Royal, and together they welcomed Amanda and Jon into the world. They both pursued higher education at Southwestern State University in Weatherford, OK, where Dick earned a degree in Accounting & Business Administration. During this time, he proudly served as an officer in the National Guard and Army Reserve, serving a total of nine years. A memorable family vacation to Colorado in Dale's loaned van, complete with visits to the Air Force Academy and Royal Gorge, provided lasting memories, even if the kids preferred Holiday Inns with indoor pools over mountain cabins and trout fishing.
He later married Lorie Singleton on November 5, 1983, with whom he had two children, Erin and Eric. He cherished family trips, from ski adventures where Eric zoomed down slopes while Erin got stuck in snow berms, to a memorable trip to Disney World in Orlando, Florida, in 1996, which included their first exciting airplane ride.
A faithful member of North MacArthur Church of Christ, Dick found comfort in watching services online when Leukemia limited his ability to attend in person.
Whether he looked more like George Strait or Tom Selleck was a matter of playful debate for Dick. He delighted in sharing corny jokes, old sayings, and recipes. A loyal fan, he passionately followed OU sports, especially football, basketball, and softball. Above all, he deeply loved the horses he owned throughout his life and treasured the many trail rides shared with friends.
Dick had an uncanny ability to turn simple memories into rich stories, cherished by everyone lucky enough to hear them. A true storyteller at heart, his words painted vivid portraits of a life well lived, filled with heart, humility, and laughter. His stories live on-not just in writing, but in the hearts of those who knew him.