In 2016, The Capital City Hues gave Cousin Richard a Hues Diversity Award at its 10^th Anniversary Celebration. The following is what we said about him at that time.

“Richard Davis is one of the greatest jazz bassists the world has ever known, having been named a jazz master by the National Endowment for the Arts in 2014. But that is not why we honor “Cousin Richard” today. Richard has been an unwavering advocate for equality and diversity no matter what form he finds it. We say “Cousin Richard” because Richard‘s core belief is that humanity sprang from the soil of Africa and therefore we are all related in some way. We honor Richard because he founded the Richard Davis Foundation for Young Bassists, Inc., which annually brings in 17 masterful bass instructors/performers to teach young bassists ages 3-18. We honor Richard because he created the Retention Action Project (R.A.P.) at UW-Madison, which focused on open dialogues in subjects that educate all of us to multicultural differences. We honor Richard because for over a decade, he has hosted sessions of the Madison Institutes for the Healing of Racism in his home, educating and impacting hundreds of people from the Madison area and beyond. And for this, we award him a 2016 Hues Diversity Award.”

While Richard was an incredible jazz performer and it was his passion, it didn’t define his being. When I would cover Bahà’í faith community events, I would often times see Richard at these events, not as a performer, but as a participant. I think Richard was attracted to the Bahà’ís because of their multicultural and international belief system. It was only later that I learned that Richard was a Buddhist. It makes sense since although Richard often garnered attention and awards, he never did anything to draw attention to himself. He just had this incredible sense of being.

While Richard played all over the world, one of his favorite places to perform was in Japan where he would try to perform at least once a year. And he made great friends there. Often in the summer months and sometimes in the fall, Richard would host some of his Japanese friends at his home and it was my impression that they would come here to study music.

Richard was an incredible mentor to young people. One of his favorite breakfast places was The Curve on S. Park Street, which was a block away from his home on West Shore Drive. On that Friday morning after Richard died, I had a scheduled breakfast with Rev. Carmen Porco. The waitress was taking our order when I told Carmen that Richard had died. She was sadden by the news and talked about how Richard would bring groups of kids to The Curve for breakfast. Richard touched people’s lives both far and near.

I had the good fortune to interview Richard 3-4 times at his home on West Shore Drive. At least one of the times, I interviewed him in his cave in his basement. It was a little dark down there with stacks of CDs and clippings and other things adorning the walls. And of course his computer took center stage on his desk. I always enjoyed those interviews. Richard was always cordial and always had a positive demeanor. When I wrote the stories, I always made sure that I would not get in the way of letting Richard’s voice come through.

I was there when Richard won the James C. Wright Human Rights Award. He didn’t make a big deal about receiving it, but I know he was honored.