Obituaries: Rick Thoman

June 1, 1953 – July 28, 2025

On the afternoon of Monday, July 28, San Francisco lost one of its brightest lights with the passing of Rick Guy Thoman at the age of 72 after his struggle with cancer. He passed peacefully at Coming Home Hospice in the Castro, a neighborhood he considered home for over 40 years. Rick will be remembered by many for his prominent role in developing an out and proud sport culture in the city by leading the efforts to create diverse spaces where people could pursue their athletic interests in a safe community regardless of their sexual orientation, gender identity, or physical ability. His family and friends will remember him for his quirky sense of humor, his big-hearted generosity, his commitment to kindness (even on a bad day), his unwavering loyalty, his unremitting determination, and the bright sparkle in his eyes.

Rick entered the world on June 1, 1953 at Mills Hospital in San Mateo, the same hospital where his mother and two siblings were born. In his youth, he lived in Belmont and Sunnyvale, California. His childhood was shaped by the loving and nurturing nature of his parents Alvon Thoman (1923-2012) and Nancy Thoman (1925-2015), and his close relationships to his two older brothers Ted Thoman (1949-1969) and Russell Thoman (1951-present). He graduated from Homestead High School in 1971 and enrolled in DeAnza Junior College before transferring to Arizona State University, where he graduated with a degree in communications. He then moved to San Francisco, which remained his home and the city he loved beyond all others. For many years, he worked at Macy’s West in both the advertising and legal departments. He also wrote regularly for the Bay Area Reporter in the 1980s and early 1990s, reporting on queer sports in the city and region.

His passion for track and field began in high school, but it became a driving force once he moved to San Francisco. Among the distinguished legacies of Rick’s remarkable life, he was a member of the cohort that organized and participated in the first Gay Games in 1982 – originally called the Gay Olympics until the U.S. Olympic Committee pursued legal action to deter the organizers from using that name. Tom Waddell, the main founder of the Gay Games movement, personally encouraged Rick to join these efforts, and with the wave of enthusiasm following the first Gay Games, Rick worked together with other track and field athletes to co-found the San Francisco Track & Field Club (SFTFC), which aimed to promote the future of the Games and create a more inclusive space for those who felt excluded from competitive sports due to their sexual orientation or gender identity. One of the core elements of SFTFC’s philosophy was and continues to be striving for personal best achievements, an idea that shaped the mental scaffolding of Rick’s athletic career for over four decades.

These foundational experiences in 1982 were pivotal in Rick’s personal journey. One of his chief goals was to attend every Gay Games during his lifetime, and this he accomplished, medaling in all 11 games thus far, most recently in Guadalajara (2023). He consistently demonstrated his athletic prowess in the 100- and 200-meter sprints, team relays, shotput, discus and javelin into his early 70s. In order to realize his belief that sports could be a safe space for queer athletes, he helped SFTFC to endure as one of the oldest, continuous LGBTQ sports organizations in the nation as an active team member, trainer, club officer, and unofficial cheerleader for multiple generations of teammates. Rick also served with both Team San Francisco and the Federation of Gay Games, and he helped create SFTFC’s Pride Meet, a USATF-sanctioned meet that encourages athletes of all sexual orientations and gender identities to compete together in an open and welcoming environment.

Though San Francisco was his home, Rick loved to travel. He would fondly recount the concerts and shows he saw in Las Vegas or Reno, the surprisingly sunny days in Seattle, the pretzels in Munich, the colorful bars in Budapest, the architecture of Vienna and Paris, the stillness of the Normandy cemetery, the giant spiders in Australia, the tequila in Guadalajara, the diverse neighborhoods of Toronto and New York, the summer heat of Chicago, or his drives with close friends to Oakland, Vallejo, Sausalito, Muir Woods, Half Moon Bay, Russian River, Sonoma Valley, San Rafael, or the Santa Cruz boardwalk.

He often referred to his travels as his “adventures,” but for a man who lived a life well-traveled, he also made room for simple pleasures. Rick loved music, and over the years, he assembled an impressive collection of LPs and CDs. He enjoyed strong margaritas, Brenda’s biscuits and Boogaloo’s chorizo scramble, fried artichokes and lomo saltado, shark cookies and It’s-Its, taking long walks in Golden Gate Park, and visiting card stores, bookstores, donut shops, and San Francisco’s public libraries. He was an avid film buff, who watched classic movies almost every evening at home and caught the current Hollywood releases on most Friday nights in the theater, when he especially delighted in his weekly “popcorn dinners.” Having worked in an ice cream shop in his younger days, Rick was an ice cream connoisseur: he usually had gift cards for Bi-Rite or Humphrey Slocum in his wallet as well as a freezer full of the latest flavors from the grocery store, and he enthusiastically explored new ice cream parlors wherever and whenever he could. He even had a soft spot for Dairy Queen and was known to map all their various locations on his travel routes when planning a road trip or visiting a new city.

And, of course, Rick loved to run. And did he ever run… or more like fly. If you ever saw his 6 foot 2 inch frame and his powerful legs and arms in motion on the track during a 100-meter sprint, you’d immediately recognize his elegant and effortless form, barely noticing whether he actually touched the ground until he crossed the finish line, triumphant no matter what his place in the pack would be.

But even in a life full of great achievements and simple pleasures, tragedy can strike, and Rick experienced his share. While still young, he suffered the devastating loss of his oldest brother Ted in 1969, who was killed in Vietnam while serving as a U.S. Army helicopter pilot, and every year Rick spent Ted’s birthday meditating on his brother’s life and death in quiet solitude. His love for his parents was no secret, and his grief over their passing was more open. He often spoke of his father’s passion for old-fashioned steam locomotives and his mother’s joy listening to mariachi bands. Rick’s sense of kinship extended to the chosen family he created around him, and there too, Rick experienced many tragic losses – of partners, friends, and teammates – especially in the wake of the AIDS epidemic in San Francisco, which he commemorated with a series of star tattoos around his ankle. Rick mourned the deaths and celebrated the lives of many over the years, but now it is our time to honor, to grieve, and to commemorate him – a man who meant the world to so many people.

Rick is survived by his older brother, Russell Thoman, a former police officer and current ranger in the National Park Service, as well as his nephews Clinton Thoman (born 1975) and Jeffrey Thoman (born 1978). He also leaves behind a circle of close and intimate friends, his chosen family, including Norma-Jean Lopez, Leonard Phillips, Sam Rhodes, Duane Corpis, and many others. 

In honor of Rick’s memory, donations in his name will be accepted by Coming Home Hospice in recognition of the compassionate care he experienced there.