The Revd Dr Richard Lawrence Kidd: 1950-2023
Baptist college principal, minister, teacher, mentor, theologian, writer, artist, seeker of justice, follower of Christ - a multi-voiced collection of personal reflections exemplify Richard Kidd's remarkable life and contribution to our Union
‘We seek to keep alive his rich legacy of commitment to the marginalised, enthusiastic embrace of the richness of God’s church, vision of theological learning for all God’s people, ongoing fascination with the wonders of God's world, all rooted in a vibrant spirituality.’ The Revd Glen Marshall Co-Principal, Northern Baptist College
We at Northern Baptist College are mourning the death of one of the most influential figures in our history.
After pastorates in Kenton and Theydon Bois, in 1986 Richard Kidd became a tutor at the college alongside a part time role as minister of Greenfield Baptist / Congregational church in Urmston. He was appointed principal of the college in 1994, serving in that role until his retirement in 2012.
Always one of life’s pioneers, Richard was delighted when in 2009, along with Anne Phillips, he became the first ever co-principal of a British Baptist college. Sharing leadership in this way was typical of Richard’s instinctively collaborative approach to life and ministry.
Among his many achievements as principal, he played a major role in developing Faith in Living, one of the very first thoroughgoing, contextual theology degrees for ministers in training and other disciples. He was instrumental in establishing new programmes of learning for the churches of our region, taking high quality theological education out of the classroom. He forged missional and educational partnerships with El Salvador, South Africa and India, all of which enriched the life the college and its students immensely.
A past editor of the Journal of Adult Theological Education, Richard was both a thoughtful theorist of learning and an outstanding teacher. His love of God and his fascination with God’s world saw him developing courses across a wide range of theological disciplines including contextual theology, apologetics and art and spirituality. His classes were engaging, challenging and encouraging. They helped students to pass their courses but more importantly to Richard, they often changed students’ lives, opening up for them new ways of seeing, and infecting them with his enthusiasm to keep on discovering more about the ways of God.
Northern Baptist College today, 11 years after his retirement, is already a different place, but Richard’s influence continues as we seek to keep alive his rich legacy of commitment to the marginalised, enthusiastic embrace of the richness of God’s church, vision of theological learning for all God’s people, ongoing fascination with the wonders of God's world, all rooted in a vibrant spirituality.
Thank God for the Revd Dr Richard Lawrence Kidd.
‘It was yellow, always yellow, the colour of God’s love, which took centre stage’. The Revd Graham Sparkes, President, Luther King Centre for Theology and Ministry
It is hard to find words. Words really are very inadequate to deal with questions of life and death, to express the hopes and fears at the heart of our humanity, and to talk of the one we call God. Of course, we have to use words, and Richard was someone who throughout his life used them with remarkable care and thoughtfulness, leaving us a considerable legacy of essays, publications, sermons and reflections. But he knew that in the end they didn’t really say enough.
I will remember Richard for the long and very rich hours we often spent in the struggle to make sense of the mystery of God and of what it means to live the life of faith. Increasingly we turned to a shared love of poetry, the novels we were reading, our latest musical encounters, and above all the world of art. These were the worlds Richard felt increasingly at home in. They may have been a long way from conventional theology with its many words and arguments, and yet our exploring was profoundly theological.
Richard was always someone reaching beyond words in the search for understanding and meaning. He had a remarkable way of connecting with people in so many contexts and cultures, and enabling them to connect with each other. He allowed his visits to El Salvador, South Africa and India, and particularly the people he met and engaged with in those places, to shape and renew his thinking and commitments. The gospel of liberation became the defining lens through which he lived his life, expressed most recently in his practical support for the social enterprise initiative Freeset in India, helping women trapped in Kolkata's sex trade. Much of the recent painting he did became a way of raising funds for that project.
Within the life of our own Baptist Union, Richard brought the same commitment to issues of justice and liberation. As well as helping us understand and affirm our core Baptist principles, he worked tirelessly and with great wisdom to help us address issues of race, disability and gender. He modelled ways of being that continually empowered others, listening carefully and making sure marginalised voices could be heard and understand.
For many of us, Richard was a teacher. He made the classroom a place where people were encouraged to find their own voice; he inspired many of us with his love of learning, bringing theology into dialogue with science and the arts; he taught some of us how to teach. And he was influential in shaping the contextual patterns of learning that continue to be a feature of our life at Luther King Centre.
Yet for all of this – and much more – I return to the days we have spent walking the quiet rooms of a special art exhibition, silently absorbing the depths of meaning found amidst paint and canvas that would bring us just a little closer to the mystery of God. In the book we wrote together, God and the Art of Seeing, Richard reflected with typical sensitivity and compassion on the experience of mental illness, something he himself had to face, and that was also a feature of the troubled life of Vincent van Gogh. He drew attention to what he suggested was surely one of the most important keys to van Gogh’s entire artistic output: ‘It was yellow, always yellow, the colour of God’s love, which took centre stage’.
Richard: may you rest in peace amidst the sunflowers, and the wheatfields, and the stars, and the glory of God’s love.
‘...from a laid back position in a chair an idea would occur to him, and his long legs, Kenny Everett style, would wave in the air, as he leaned forward, wanting to describe the new pivotal moment in his thinking’ The Revd Jo Williams, Minister and Mediator at Blackley Baptist Church and the Blackley Centre
I first 'met' Richard at our family dining table as a teenager through my grandfather, Alf Yelland. He was ecstatic about the new young minister that Theydon Bois Baptist Church had called, one Richard Kidd. Alf was blown away by Richard’s mind, his intellect, his curiosity - and every Sunday for the duration of Richard's ministry, I 'listened' to Richard's sermon recounted by Grandpa over the Sunday roast. This relationship was, I know, equally valued by Richard, with them sitting and talking for hours, sharing books and thoughts – I think, at times, Grandpa gave Richard a run for his money. The only time Grandpa was really stumped was when Richard and Rosemary asked him to ‘babysit’ Peter, Andrew, Simon and Hannah, and he discovered that they were not quite as interested in theology! In a way Richard impacted my theological education long before I worked with him at Northern through my wonderful Grandfather, and he, Rosemary and the family became a part of my life.
When Grandpa heard that Andy (my husband) was going to Northern Baptist College and would study ‘under Richard’, Andy's place in Grandpa’s affections was cemented. And when we moved to Manchester it was so lovely to connect again with Rosemary and the family, and friendship grew. Our lives overlapped with the family in many ways: Rosemary coming to Didsbury on placement, and Simon and Hannah joining a memorable trip to Greenbelt.
And then, in 1998, Richard became my boss. Working with Richard at NBC was joyous - most of the time (!) - laughing with him and at him as, from a laid back position in a chair an idea would occur to him, and his long legs, Kenny Everett style, would wave in the air, as he leaned forward, wanting to describe the new pivotal moment in his thinking, opening up thought processes and pushing boundaries, encouraging us never to be content with the easy answer. Others more scholarly and erudite than I will speak of his accomplishments as Principal, Co-Principal, theologian, writer and educator as they will know more about what he achieved. I know that for me, and so many others, Richard’s energy, passion and enthusiasm for ideas, rooted in authenticity and compassion, having little time for the banal or simplistic, were a constant challenge and catalyst for our own thinking and growth. At times I knew that he wasn’t really listening to my own ‘pearls of wisdom’ because his brain was leaping ahead into new realms and possibilities, yet at other times he made me believe that I had hit on something truly profound and deep which excited him, and affirmed me! He encouraged me to do and attempt more than I thought possible, and he and Rosemary were the people Andy and I went to for advice and wisdom – and we were humbled that they in turn did the same with us. I feel so privileged to have journeyed with Rosemary and Richard through good and difficult times, and hope that they knew how much I valued and loved them both.
In 2015 Andy and I began to dream about creating a centre for peace, reconciliation and interfaith dialogue, and Rosemary and Richard were, along with Mary and Ernie Whalley, the ones with whom we explored the idea. From those first conversations about the Blackley Centre he, and Rosemary, embraced it wholeheartedly - Richard's infectious enthusiasm for what we were trying to do and be, enabled us to believe that we could do this. His support was not just in words - he offered to help us as a Founding Trustee and to be our Treasurer. He created our publicity, our logo and our website, and supported us in so many ways, generous with his time, his thoughts and his creativity. He donated pictures for us to sell, and the Centre walls display his beautiful paintings. He believed in what the Centre is trying to do – he ‘got it’ – and we will be forever grateful to him and Rosemary for all they have given to us as we follow the dream.
I could go on. I am trying to adjust to the fact that Richard and Rosemary are no longer a part of my life aside from a legacy of love, and the friendship with their children - and I am sad, so sad. But I am sort of glad for Richard, that he is now at peace. Having that immense brain was not always easy for him and for those with whom he lived. His mercurial nature and immense intellect came at a cost, and with wonderful highs come the inevitable lows, and those of us who were privileged to count him our friend know that he had his struggles.
So rest well, my lovely, compassionate, creative conflicted friend. I give thanks to God for a remarkable man whose insight, creativity, adventurous thinking coming from his considerable brain, was sometimes disconcerting, frequently challenging, and constantly prompting exploration of the new, grounded and rooted in the love of Jesus. Know the peace of the God who holds you fast - and thank you.
‘Richard was a giant always seeking to pave the way for the voiceless to speak. The Apology says it all.’ The Revd Wale Hudson-Roberts, Justice Enabler for the Baptist Union reflects on Richard’s contribution to The Apology, an historic resolution apologising for our part in the transatlantic slave trade.
‘As a Council we have listened to one another, we have heard the pain of hurting sisters and brothers and we have heard God speaking to us.
In a spirit of weakness, humility and vulnerability, we acknowledge that we are only at the start of a journey but we are agreed that this must not prevent us speaking and acting at a Kairos moment.
Therefore, we acknowledge our share in and benefit from our nation’s participation in the transatlantic slave trade.
We acknowledge that we speak and as those who have shared in and suffered from the legacy of slavery and its appalling consequences for God’s world.
We offer our apology to God and to our brothers and sisters for all that has created and still perpetuates the hurt which originated from the horror of slavery.
We repent of the hurt we have caused, the divisions we have created, our reluctance to face up to the sin of the past, our unwillingness to listen to the pain of our black sisters and brothers, and our silence in the face of racism and injustice today.
We commit ourselves, in a true spirit of repentance, to take what we have heard learned from God in the Council and to share it widely in our Baptist community and beyond, looking for Gospel ways by which we can turn the words and feelings we have expressed today into concrete actions and contribute to the prophetic work of God’s coming kingdom.’
These were the words written by Richard Kidd in the immediate aftermath of the apology. Countless people have described Richard as a Baptist prophet. With penetrating theological rigour, Richard would call out injustice. Typical of a prophet and certainly characteristic of Richard, his call for justice would continue to echo through time despite resistance. The words of the apology are consistent with Richards prophetic posture.
Long before the names of Leonardo Boff, James Cone, Gustavo Gutierrez, Elsa Tamez, Liz Theoharis, Edgar Silva, and Anthony Reddie became known in many theological circles, Richard was advocating their theological convictions to students at Northern Baptist College and friends in the Baptist World Alliance and the Baptist Union. For Richard, the words of The Apology were not an exercise in political correctness: they mirrored his commitment to speaking about God through the lens of the ‘other.’
Richard also had a heart of a pastor. In The Apology Richard weaved together the prophetic, radical thinking with a heart for the marginalised. The words he wrote in 2007 were fused with sensitivity, gentleness and compassion, yet again reflecting the essence of his character. In so many ways Richard was a giant always seeking to pave the way for the voiceless to speak. The Apology says it all.
‘The word I associate most with Richard is compassion, not of the sentimental or trivial kind, but the deepest kind of identification with and concern for the other that found its source in a deep spirituality and living faith’. The Revd Sean Winter, Associate Professor at the University of Divinity
In September 1999 at the British New Testament Conference, a colleague who taught New Testament at the Northern Baptist College in Manchester leaned back in his chair and told me that he was about to move on, and that his job would be advertised very soon. Little did I know that the College's Principal, Richard Kidd, was keen to hear whether or not I considered myself as a possible candidate, for a position in a College that I hadn't trained at and didn't know at all well.
Richard became a colleague, friend, mentor and exemplified qualities for ministry and leadership that I have carried with me. He was, of course, intellectually brilliant, but always directed that intelligence towards enabling other people's learning and formation. He was brave, capable of speaking with a prophetic challenge that the wider Baptist family always needed, but more rarely attended to. He was a theologian of liberation, at home in South African townships and Indian slums, who devoted much of his life to addressing structural questions of poverty and injustice. He worked tirelessly to facilitate racial, gender, and disability justice within the Baptist Union, the community and tradition that had formed him. And, with others, he sought to articulate a vision of Baptist identity that was capable of sustaining communities of faith in faithful and prophetic discipleship; a vision that in recent years he sensed was glimpsed by fewer and fewer people. The word I associate most with Richard is compassion, not of the sentimental or trivial kind, but the deepest kind of identification with and concern for the other that found its source in a deep spirituality and living faith.
Richard died of a heart attack a little over a year after losing his beloved Rosemary. In sporadic emails and conversations he was typically honest about how hard he was finding things. In one exchange, I was able to assure him of his significance to me, and I know to may others, as friend and leader. I hope he took it to heart. When I started at NBC I told Richard that colleagues had told me that the College was all 'flip charts and night lights' (they were right, partially). Well, later today I'll light a night light in memory of a dear friend, brother in Christ, and colleague in ministry. May he rest in the peace of Christ and rise in glory.
‘Richard was always adventurous in everyday life and in faith: may he know adventure still.’ A contribution from Prof. Paul S. Fiddes, FBA, formerly Principal of Regent's Park College, Oxford and his wife Marion Fiddes, a former Trustee for the Baptist Union and (with Paul) a member of New Road Baptist Church, Oxford
Paul writes: Marion and I first met Richard and Rosemary 50 years ago, on a freezing winter night in a wooden hut on the campus of the Wycliffe Bible Translators during a conference of Baptist ministerial students. I was acting as chaplain, and Richard was attending from Spurgeon’s College, where he was being formed for ministry after his undergraduate degree at the University of Cambridge. Our next meeting was in the more comfortable surroundings of the Senior Common Room at Regent’s in 1979, when Richard and I were part of a group of five Baptist ministers putting together a small book called A Call to Mind. Baptist Essays Towards a Theology of Commitment. I recall him then as a young minister with a lively mind, a passion for justice, and a gift for being just excellent company with those who sat down with him.
There followed a whole series of publications in which the group, with slight changes to the original members, aimed to get Baptist churches thinking about the meaning of being ‘covenanted’ together, and Richard—along with Brian Haymes and myself—was a continuing presence in those discussions. Gradually the three of us formed an especially close friendship, and early along the way I found myself having interesting conversations with Richard every couple of weeks for four years as he prepared his doctoral thesis at Oxford, as well as getting to know Rosemary and the family. I also became aware of Richard’s outstanding gifts as a Christian leader, and saw the powerful impression for spiritual good that he made on both individuals and congregations. It was always an event to hear Richard speak in a public meeting. It was not suprising that after a visit to South Africa with the Baptist World Alliance which I shared with him in the period just before Nelson Mandela came to office, he clearly saw the needs of the situation and became a key figure in enabling black South African ministers to continue their theological studies to a graduate level.
Much later, after his retirement from being Principal of Northern Baptist College, he once again read the needs of the time and the place and started a programme to enable members of a project in Kolkata —‘Freeset’— to reflect theologically on the work they were doing in offering women in the sex trade a dignified job, and in freeing them for a journey towards wholeness. Typically, and together with Rosemary, he immersed himself at first hand in the situation and so brought personal inspiration as well as his skills in practical theology to the venture. It was after his retirement too that Brian Haymes, Richard and myself took our partnership in thinking and writing to a deeper level and produced two books on a Baptist approach to the Communion of Saints. Richard brought to this project a unique blend of theological exploration, scientific knowledge and skills as a visual artist. Beyond any writing task, it was simply a delight to be together with him, and it was a learning experience to walk together around an art gallery. I well remember looking at a series of Venuses with him in a gallery in Dresden when we should probably have been in a working session of the Baptist World Alliance in that city.
In the last three years, during a time of Covid and increasing age, Brian, Richard and I have met regularly on Zoom rather than in person. I admired the courage with which Richard was facing a life without the companionship of Rosemary, hard though it was for him, and found that he was still opening up new horizons of thought and faith. Our three-fold friendship has for many years been a fixed point at the foundation of life, and we must now learn to live in a new way within the Communion of Saints. Richard was always adventurous in everyday life and in faith: may he know adventure still.
Marion writes: Richard was talented and inspirational in so many ways. From his paintings, his beautiful cards and poetry, his thoughtful writing or in his friendships alongside with Rosemary, he was such a gift. We were blessed with his presence, along with Mike Lowe’s, at our church in Bonn Square, during Oxford ArtWeeks for several years when Richard spoke and sold artwork in aid of ‘Freeset’ (see Paul’s explanation above). His generous gift of time with us was so appreciated by us all at the church, and by the community and shoppers coming into the church. On a personal level, time spent with Rosemary and Richard was always delightful, be it on a trip to Stirling Castle to encounter unicorns (in the tapestries, of course), or in our home. We had been looking forward to a visit to Paris and Giverny with them, on the trail of the painter Monet, just before the very sad death of Rosemary. There is a rather large hole in our lives.
David Quinney-Mee (formerly BMS World Mission) has shared this cameo from Richard’s visit to El Salvador which was transformative for him.
"I remember going with him to an isolated rural community where one of the men we met, a community leader, in rough, rural working clothes, sawn-off wellies and a battered Stetson, spoke with us in eloquent terms about the community's experience in the war, and their attempts to organise and survive on the land where they were, against the cruel waves of opposition. No formal education and limited literacy, the man shone in the qualifications of resilience, creativity, practical compassion and courage that his commitment to and with his community had forged in him.
"Eventually, Richard tentatively asked a question about faith matters, wondering to himself if such things were outside the man's interest or beyond his powers of communication. Instead, we were treated to a most remarkable, profound, conversation that Richard was to refer to on many occasions. Richard's face was alight with the encounter and I think it true to say that "his heart was strangely warmed". The man's name was Eusebius. Richard connected him immediately with The New Eusebius, that theology textbook from another place, and heard the depth of it all echoing loud and clear in the contemporary world of an isolated, rural, war-weary community, and in the quiet man in the sawn-off wellies and battered Stetson.
How could Richard, anyone, fail to be moved...”
“The smiling man with the Jesus sandals.” The Revd Dr Jim Gordon, former Principal, Scottish Baptist College
I met Richard Kidd in 2002, just after I became Principal of the Scottish Baptist College. We quickly became friends, as well as colleagues in theological education, and it is as his friend I share these brief impressions of Richard.
In the years when we worked together, and after we both retired around 2014, I came to know a remarkable man, the pillars of whose spirituality were plunged deep into the mysteries of God and the world. He was such fun to talk to; theologically astute, and constantly alert to new ways of thinking through how the Gospel is to be thought, spoken, shared and embodied in credible Christian community.
Whether on the relations of art and theology, questions of justice and compassion for the poor, the nature of Baptist ways of being, or the church as the gathered communion of sinners seeking to be saints, Richard had thought with critical depth, spiritual affection, and generous love. And he had important things to say to us, and for us to hear.
For a number of years Richard painted tirelessly, producing work for sale at the annual Pittenweem Arts Festival here in Scotland, the proceeds going to Freeset in Kolkata, a charity in India working to empower and liberate young women. In such projects Richard both thought and practised a theology of liberation, using his words and his paintings as sacraments of freedom for others.
Others will speak of Richard’s contribution to Baptist life in the Baptist Union of Great Britain, amongst the Colleges, as a theological teacher, writer and explorer, and each of these always coming back to that central call of Christ, first heard as an undergraduate at Cambridge, to follow faithfully after Him.
I have two personal memories which together show the range of influence that could radiate from his presence in the lives of those who walked with him. At a time of immense sadness in our family, with the death of our daughter Aileen, Richard was quietly present, his compassion thoughtful and made communicable through the existing channels of love, friendship and the shared questionings and affirmations of faith. He and Rosemary made the journey to be with us on the day of the funeral. That was entirely characteristic, it was never in question. That too was a sacramental gesture of love in practice.
Then there was Richard, the external academic examiner helping our College conduct a Subject Health Review with the University of the West of Scotland. For those three days he was a critical friend in interrogative mood, a warm and thoughtful participant, a fine advert for Baptist academic competence and innovative thought, playing away from home in a secular setting.
When the report was delivered, the Head of Quality Enhancement commented on Richard, describing him in words that became legendary in and beyond the College: “the smiling man with the Jesus sandals.” Yes indeed, that was Richard, and will miss that smile, along with so much that he brought to us as sheer gift and embodied grace.
‘I loved the way Richard let out a little laugh when he'd discovered something new about how God works in God's world’. Kerry & Annie Hilton (Freeset Founders)
Richard had a deep desire to connect with the poor, given his strong belief in God's bias for the marginalised. That first day in our Kolkata living room brought together two theologians, one strong in theory, the other, weak on theory but strong in practice. It was the beginning of years of theological conversations that lead to friendship. I (Kerry) loved the way Richard let out a little laugh when he'd discovered something new about how God works in God's world. He was always humble with his learning, hoping to discover just a little more. He downplayed his contribution in favour of lifting others.
Richard, we miss you already, our friendship, our chats, the way we discovered just a little bit more about God together. Rest my friend, rest in peace.
‘It is enough for now to glimpse a distant arc’. The Revd Mike Lowe, National Communications Manager for the Baptist Union
It has been a privilege to bring together these wonderful recollections and reflections from friends around the world. I have been given an even greater insight into one of the most important people in my own walk of faith. Richard was a father figure for me when it came to theology, spirituality and how to work for justice as a Christian. He also taught me so much about who we are as a movement and I urge you to read Something to Declare, a study he co-wrote on our Declaration of Principle.
When it came to art, we explored the mystery of God together and when Richard wrote poems for paintings which explored my faith we stepped out vulnerably together. We stood up very nervously at the Northern Baptist Theological Consultation in 2014, me feeling very exposed talking about art I had never planned to share and Richard feeling anxious having never performed his own poetry in public. It led to many wonderful weekends at churches across the country as we brought together a blend of art, spirituality and justice, raising money for Freeset.
The first painting he wrote a poem for was called God’s Grace with the title It is Enough. Without prompt from me he responded in a wonderfully poetic way. The painting features a distant arc of light, a way I was trying to explore the ongoing hope we have in the mystery of God as we journey beyond this life.
It is enough for now for us to glimpse a distant arc, for Richard I pray he now inhabits this mystery and the joy of God’s presence in ways we are unable to yet know or imagine.
It Is Enough
It is enough for now to glimpse
a distant arc, to pause in nature's glade,
dappled dance-floor, grounds for play.
It is enough for now to tarry,
to tread a way both narrow and unbounded,
heavy-shadowed, vault still open to the sky.
It is enough for now to feel
the seasons meet, to grow a greater courage
feeding on abundance, gift of grace.
'Chatting to him was always stimulating'. The following was shared by David Bebbington, Emeritus Professor of History, University of Stirling, at Richard's funeral service on 4 August
For over half a century Richard has been one of my closest friends. We both attended Nottingham High School on scholarships, though I did not know him well there. Soon after he came up to King’s College, Cambridge, in 1969, he joined me to a Christian Union meeting and afterwards made a Christian profession in my rooms at Jesus College.
He met Rosemary for the first time at our engagement party and for the second time at our wedding, where he first invited her out. When we entered our initial home in Cambridge, Richard came round to do much of the painting while I offered a potted history of Western philosophy! We kept contact while he and Rosemary were at Waterbeach Baptist Church, where Spurgeon once preached, at Spurgeon’s College and then at his successive ministries, becoming potential guardians of the children if they should suffer a common calamity. They all stopped at our home near Stirling after holidays on Iona in order to take a bath on the way home.
Richard was extraordinarily good at talking. On the one hand he offered practical advice, such as how to lift a heavy box of books without damaging one’s back – and always without giving the recipient the feeling that he should have known better. On the other, he readily discussed weighty matters of theology and culture, suggesting creative ideas about the evolution of 20th-century Western civilisation. He bought a succession of classic novels from second-hand bookshops at give-away prices and so became extremely widely read.
Richard’s expertise had always been deeply rooted in scientific scholarship and as he developed his artistic skills he also pursued the history of art with dedication and understanding. He was most unusual in being able to relate theology, science and art to each other without superficiality.
Although – and perhaps because – we did not always agree, chatting to him was always stimulating. Latterly we enjoyed speculating about the significance of colour together. In our recent conversations, however, the devastating consequences of Rosemary’s death have been all too apparent. I still have a sense that Richard is there, waiting to have a talk about this and that, the practical and the theoretical, the theological and the cultural. In the realisation that he is not, the anchor of consolation lies in the Christian hope.
Top image: Graeme Clark
Second image: Northern Baptist College
Third Image: As credited
Fourth Image: Jim Gordon, Richard pictured with Jim's wife
Fifth Image: Mike Lowe