Richard Kurial Obituary, Death – Richard Gordon Kurial died unexpectedly at home on Saturday, July 1, 2023. He was born in Vancouver, British Columbia, on December 26, 1948, to the late Frank and May Kurial. His children, Simone and Alexander Kurial, as well as their mother, Kathleen Kurial (née Thorson), survive him.
Richard was well-liked at UPEI, where he was a former Dean of Arts and an American history professor. The arrangements are being handled by Belvedere Funeral Home. There will be no visitors. A Celebration of Life will be held from the Belvedere Funeral Home Chapel on Sunday, July 9, at 10 a.m.
In many ways, he meant a lot to his wide circle of friends and acquaintances. Despite the fact that our intimacy did not last, we maintained space and appreciation for one another. Not to mention how tough it was to maintain my fury against him. He had a talent for the ridiculous, a remarkable ability to connect with anyone, and the ability to forgive and forget. Others, I imagine, were envious of his youth and possibly angered by it. I know I was.
He was a flawed person, which made him truly human and, as I previously indicated, difficult to be angry at. Richard was brilliant but humble, and he endured more pain than any of us could ever imagine. He had to want it that way. Richard’s alter egos have included an academic, the kingpin of the BarFly Mafia, a crazy shit-disturber, a (voluntary) sports gambling bookie, a board member of real and fictitious boards, and a Green Bay Packers superfan. These characters were perhaps more well-known than Richard, the loyal father, son, brother, and friend. I have a feeling I could write his biography without ever fully comprehending him.
For better or worse, he never ceased surprise me. I believe we can all agree that the most recent surprise was by far the worst and most startling. He abruptly departed us less than a day after retiring from UPEI. Despite the fact that he never mentioned disease or death, he may have been aware of what was to come. It’s too overwhelming and sad to think about, so I’ll stop there. Not posting something would be more traumatic than posting it. Richard, may you rest in eternal peace.