By any measure, Randy Larsen was a successful guy.
In his early years, Randy was an Eagle Scout, an accomplished athlete, and had an IQ score so high his mother kept it written down on a slip of paper in her purse, ready to be shared with others at a moment’s notice. Randy’s intellect, ambition, and curiosity were matched only by his compassion for others. As a young adult, he volunteered at a home for troubled teenagers, often bringing them to his own home at Christmas and Easter so they could experience family and a home-cooked meal.
The reason behind his success may be that when Randy put his mind to something, he did it with flying colors. And this even includes when he was fly fishing. As his sister Mary Pat recalls, “Randy loved to fish, but not just throwing a line in the water. He fly fished often in remote locations in Canada whereby he had to be flown in, dropped off, and picked up five days later!”
Randy’s zest for life also incorporated a wonderful dose of humor. In college, Randy played a clever trick on his best friend Dennis McCarthy by telling a group of guys assembling their fraternity basketball team that Dennis had been the best point guard in their high school—even though, in Dennis’s words, “I didn’t play basketball, didn’t care for the game, and couldn't play a lick”. To mitigate inevitable objections from Dennis and keep the stunt going, Randy told the guys Dennis would deny his skills at first and they should start him anyhow (which they did…until they caught on). “Not even five minutes into the game, the captain calls timeout and puts his arm around me and says, ‘So Randy was having some fun with all of us.’” Just then from the stands, Randy called out, “Don’t worry, he is just warming up.” Dennis fondly recalls the laughter that filled the gymnasium as he headed back to the bench.
We might consider that episode on the basketball court an early indicator of Randy’s penchant for understanding human behavior. In Randy’s career as a psychologist, he became a renowned expert on the science of personality. Former Michigan colleague Colleen Seifert recalls, “Randy published more high-quality articles every year than most of us read.”
What is even more remarkable than Randy’s research on personality, however, were the manifestations of his own personality—his kindness, compassion, and wisdom. As his children Tom and Ana note, “What made our dad an incredible person was that anything he dedicated himself to within or outside of work, he developed a talent for, with an innate attention to detail and care. He demonstrated this trait most importantly in his role as a father, husband, and friend.”
Writing a tribute that captures the essence of someone as accomplished and beloved as Randy Larsen is no small feat. As his colleague and friend Laura King recalls, “Randy was a happy man, dedicated to his work, dedicated to science, dedicated to his students, but, mostly, dedicated to people and especially his people.”
What better way is there, then, to get a glimpse into the wonderful person Randy was throughout his life, and the many people whose lives he touched along the way, than by compiling stories from his people…
Randy, the gold standard of kindness
Following a distinguished tenure at the University of Michigan, Randy was recruited to WashU as the William R. Stuckenberg Professor of Human Values & Moral Development. Former Provost Ed Macias recalls that administrators were “extremely enthusiastic” about adding Randy to the psychology department. “I remember Randy as being very open and trustworthy. I enjoyed working with him very much.”
Early on, Randy became known throughout the department as a great teacher, not only in his captivating lecture style, but also the way he cared for his students. As Professor Brian Carpenter observed, “he loved their curiosity, their eagerness to learn, their good questions and fascination with experiments and findings those of us in the field a long time often take for granted.”
The care he demonstrated for his students extended to those in his personal and professional circles. Mary Roediger, his friend of more than 40 years noted that, “Randy was the gold standard of kindness, empathy, intellectual curiosity and wise counsel.” Even people meeting him for the first time in a foreign country picked up immediately on his interpersonal warmth and grace. “In Croatia, we would say Randy was ‘vaccinated against vanity,’” recounts his friend, Ljiljana Kaliterna. “When he visited Croatia and was giving a talk on his work to Croatian academics, people would usually comment how normal he is! You expect a different attitude and self-presentation in somebody with such professional achievements. Even though Randy was a celebrity in the academic world, he was always looking and acting as an ordinary, normal person.”
His down-to-earth nature was especially felt—and appreciated—by his students. For me, personally, my time as an undergraduate and graduate student coincided with Randy’s ten years as department chair. And yet, amid all his other responsibilities both running the department and as principal investigator of an NIH-funded lab, he somehow made me and his other students feel like we were his top priority. On many occasions I would walk into his office without an appointment, just to ask a question, and he would put down whatever he was working on to ensure I had what I needed (the question usually took five minutes, and then we would spend at least the next thirty just catching up). Even one spring when Randy was recovering from a medical procedure and could not drive or even walk, he nonetheless kept our regularly scheduled weekly meetings, inviting me to his home so that he could provide ongoing feedback on drafts of my dissertation to ensure that I was staying on track toward my target graduation date. And once he was back on his feet, those meetings sometimes would even extend to my joining his family on the sidelines of one of Ana’s or Tom’s basketball games.
Joar Vittersø, one of Randy’s graduate students in the mid-1990s, similarly remembers him as an advisor who went to great lengths to ensure his success both academically and personally. “I was invited to his beautiful and remote farm several times, to fish, to cut firewood, or to socialize. I sometimes felt lonely and homesick in Ann Arbor. But I never felt lonely when I was together with Randy, and for that I will remember him for as long as I live.”
It is fitting that “Human Values” is noted in Randy’s professorship. As much as we, his students, learned from him about the behavioral sciences, we learned even more from him about human values—especially those of connection, authenticity, humility, and kind-heartedness.
Randy, the serial hobbyist
In addition to his accomplished career as a scholar and professor, Randy had far-reaching talents and skills that went well beyond the hallowed halls of academia. His sister-in-law Anita recalls, “He always knew how to fix different things around the house and had wise advice when there was any problem.”
According to Randy’s brother Stew, he was a “serial hobbyist,” calling attention to Randy’s garage-turned-woodworking shop. His garage would also become his venue to practice skills he was mastering in the local knife makers club. Many of us have gifts Randy created with his own hands—including belts, saltshakers, and wooden bowls. “He felt joy in giving these gifts to family,” Stew recalls. “I have no idea how many knives Randy made over the years, but it was a lot. During one of my visits, I asked Randy if I could buy a knife for a gift. He replied that he just finished a knife show and didn’t think he had many knives remaining. He brought out his inventory and it covered an entire ping pong table.”
Even as a young man, he loved spending time in garages. “He once dismantled a Volkswagen beetle down to its frame, put it back together completely, and gave it to me,” recalls his sister Mary Pat. “I had that car for several years.”
But it wasn’t just woodworking, knife making, and cars that rounded out Randy’s skill set.
“He could do anything!” recalls Colleen Seifert. “When my new kitten climbed to the top of a tree and got stuck, who did I call? As unlikely as it seems, Randy was there in 20 minutes, took off his watch and dress shoes, and shimmied to the top of the slender tree. The sky darkened and started raining, and I was terrified for both of them. He and the kitten waved back and forth in the wind, and then made the long climb down together. I found that in science as well as life, Randy was a jack of all trades.”
Randy, the family man
To know Randy was to know of his love for Z’s extended family and the place they called home along the Adriatic Sea. As Laura King recounts, “He was a human travel brochure for Croatia. He talked often about the joy he took in how his family and his place in the world expanded to include a whole new culture and collection of beloved people.” And they loved him right back. “If I had to choose a husband for my sister, I could not have chosen a better one,” notes Anita Prizmic, Zvjezdana’s sister. “I admired his serenity, composure, and knowledge. We always loved when he was with us in Dubrovnik. Even my dog was happy to see him!”
Laura King also recounts the love Randy had for Zvjezdana specifically. “He loved her so much. For him, just to have this remarkable woman, this fascinating person, as his partner in life was a complete treasure.”
Randy’s love for Z was confirmed by Joan Dewey, the realtor who helped them find their home. She recalls one day in particular when, after touring real estate near the university, they headed farther out west to look at homes that would have satisfied Randy’s interest to live on several acres in the country, surrounded by nature. “We were about halfway there when I received a phone call from the listing agent on the house that was Zvjezdana's favorite. The listing agent was on speaker and she gave us the heads up that another agent would be submitting an offer. Without hesitating Randy looked at me and said, ‘We better turn around’. That's when I knew how much he loved Zvjezdana. And that's the home they shared for many happy years.”
Among their neighbors was fellow professor Jan Duchek, who recalls the times she would stop and chat with Randy in their neighborhood. “The most salient thing I remember from our conversations was the way in which Randy spoke about his family – with a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eye. His love and admiration for Z and his overwhelming pride and enduring love for Tom and Ana permeated every conversation.”
At the beginning of this article, I noted that Randy was a successful guy. You might expect an article appearing in a newsletter for the department where he spent nearly a quarter-century holding an endowed professorship, including a full decade as chair, to focus mostly on his successes as a scholar and administrator—the lengthy list of publications he authored in acclaimed journals, the millions in grant dollars he was awarded by the NIH to support his research, or the impressive set of accolades he received throughout his career honoring his contributions to the field.
And those things are impressive. They are worth celebrating. They deserve our admiration.
But there is something else that is a far more important measure of someone’s success. To me (borrowing the wisdom of one of my favorite quotes from Ralph Waldo Emerson), the true measure of someone’s success in life boils down to one question:
Did you leave the world a better place?
With that as our measure—and on account of the indelible impact he made on generations of students, colleagues, and friends—I can think of no one more successful than Randy Larsen.
As we continue to mourn his loss, let us also continue to celebrate his legacy.
As his children Tom and Ana note, “He built a foundation in us of respect, patience, honesty, and humility, and I know he would be happy that we aim to carry these traits in everything we do in our lives.” In the words of his dear friend, Ljiljana, “I simply love him, and I intentionally didn’t say it in the past tense, as feelings for such a special person never fade away.” And as articulated so beautifully by Zvjezdana, “I feel he is still living in the hearts of many people he touched through his life. For sure I feel Randy with me all the time."
No doubt Tom, Ana, Ljiljana, and Zvjezdana have captured the sentiments all of us so fortunate to know Randy feel.
So, rest well, Randy, my mentor, my friend.
And rest assured of the countless individuals who love you and who are better people because of you—and through whom your remarkable legacy continues to live on every day.