Paul Grant Gilroy

1942 - 2025

Paul Grant Gilroy

June 12, 1942 - October 13, 2025

Paul Grant Gilroy-known to just about everyone as "Gilroy"-died peacefully at home on October 13, 2025, at 83 years old.

He was born June 12, 1942, to Thelma "Jackie" Thompson and Ernest "Ernie" Gilroy. From his parents, he inherited a rare mix of qualities that shaped the rest of his life: from his mother, a fiery work ethic, an instinctive connection to horses, and an ability to bring out the best in both animals and people; from his father, a sharp mind, relentless discipline, and a belief that if something was worth doing, it was worth doing right.

At Lake Forest Academy, Paul was a letterman in both football and hockey-strong, fast, and never one to quit. He went on to Lake Forest College, where he played hockey and football and earned a degree in Chemistry. He was sharp-minded and curious, equally at home in a lab or on the ice. His skill and intensity earned him a place on the U.S. National Hockey Team, where he played for three years. He came within a breath of the 1964 Winter Olympics, missing his shot when the coach chose an all-Minnesota roster. It stung, but it didn't stop him. Nothing ever did.

After college, Paul followed his instincts west. The wide-open country suited him-big land, honest work, and room to breathe. He built a life in Jackson Hole, where he became a guide, outfitter, and rancher whose reputation still carries weight. At his height, he owned more than 400 horses and fed elk herds through the long, brutal Jackson Hole winters.

While already established out West, Paul was called up through the Wyoming National Guard and served his country in Vietnam. He went because that's what you do when you're called. The experience left a mark, deepening his sense of purpose and his commitment to living fully and working hard.

Paul was as tough a human being as you could find. But toughness wasn't what defined him-devotion was. Safety was always his first rule, for his guests and for the horses that carried them. He had an uncanny feel for animals. He could sense a limp before it showed or a wound before it bled. He used his intelligence, patience, and calloused hands to patch, doctor, and heal more horses than most vets ever see. People said he could talk to them-and often, it looked like they were listening.

He was also a fierce advocate-for horses, for wildlife, and for the land itself. Paul believed deeply that horses were partners, not tools, and that caring for them was sacred work. He fought for their wellbeing with conviction and clarity, insisting that respect and safety were non-negotiable. Whether it meant spending a long night nursing a sick horse or calling out careless handling, he stood his ground every time.

Like his mother, Paul believed life's best work was helping others find confidence on horseback. In addition to giving people confidence, Paul found it was a way to show others the wild beauty of this country-to open their eyes to the rhythm of the land, the power of silence, and the grace of being small under big sky. He gave people moments they never forgot: crossing rivers, cresting ridges, and watching the first light hit the Tetons. That love for horses and the land runs deep in his family; his niece Amelia carries it forward in her own life today.

He trained a whole generation of cowboys and cowgirls, teaching not just how to ride but how to pay attention-to the land, the weather, the animal, and yourself. His horses turned up in Marlboro ads, but Gilroy never cared about that kind of attention. What mattered was that the animals were healthy, the riders were safe, and the job was done right.

If you were lucky, you'd find him at the Wort Hotel, whiskey in hand, trading stories that bent the line between truth and legend. If you ever heard a story about Gilroy and wondered if it could possibly be true, it probably was. He had a presence that filled a room and a perspective forged by decades in the saddle.

He was fierce but fair, proud but humble, and deeply loyal to the people, animals, and places he loved. He left things better than he found them-horses, land, and folks alike.

Paul is preceded in death by his parents, Jackie Thompson and Ernie Gilroy, and his brother Gregg Gilroy. He is survived by long-time companion Mary Hutz, niece Amelia Gilroy, cousin Peter Gilroy, half-brothers Steve and Robert Jeffs, nephew Patrick, nieces Becky, Darcy, and Megan, along with countless friends and colleagues who were lucky enough to know the real Gilroy.

He was the kind of man who made things work, who did what needed doing, and who never forgot what mattered.

And if there's a place where good horses run and the air's a little thinner, that's where you'll find him now-watching over the herd, making sure everything's all right.