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The world is a little less bright today because Richard Gill is no longer with us.

Richard, a man I am proud to call a friend, died last week at the age of 64 after a brief and completely unexpected illness. I get that all of us eventually die, but there’s no good reason for God calling him home so soon. It seems to me Richard still had joy to spread down here on earth.

I can’t ever remember being around Richard and not laughing. It wasn’t so much that he was funny—and he certainly wasn’t the best joke teller—but he was undeniably fun to be around. Most important, he was wonderfully generous, both with his time and money.

The cruelest irony is this: A man of incredible compassion and heart left us because his heart simply stopped working.

Truth be told, I really didn’t know the Richard Gill who was a big-time corporate executive and skipped across the globe landing deals and making money for The Shaw Group. His business card said he was president of the company’s power group. I couldn’t tell you what that is, though I know it prompted a recent move to North Carolina—not a bad thing since he had family in the Charlotte area.

I also know he worked his tail off building Merit Industrial Constructors, the company he founded in 1982, and I’m guessing he did pretty much the same with Shaw after he and Merit joined forces with Jim Bernhard in 1997.

During a conversation five or six years ago, Bernhard told me the addition of Gill and Merit were critical to Shaw eventually growing into a Fortune 500 company. While I might be sketchy with the details, one fact is certain: Nobody hangs around Shaw Group for 11 years unless they have incredible talent and produce big results.

I know so little about his professional career because that’s not what we talked about over coffee at CC’s on Jefferson Highway or flubbed iron shots on the golf course.

The Richard Gill I did know was the lover of all things LSU, especially the Saturday night magic that takes place each fall. After his wife, Jean, and their family, nothing sparkled Richard’s eyes more than his lifelong love affair with Tiger football.

Trust me when I tell you there was nothing more hilarious—or entertaining—than going to a Tiger football game with Mr. Gill.

After some obligatory tailgating, where the pending contest is analyzed in position-by-position detail, Richard would spend the first quarter or so pacing about the Shaw suite like a caged animal until he could stand it no more, rushing down to the sidelines to be with “his team.” No matter how great the game, the greatest entertainment was watching a less-than-nimble Richard scramble out of harm’s way whenever players went tumbling out of bounds.

Richard, no question, was a big-time insider, but he wasn’t one of those meddling boosters that destroy some athletic programs. His only desire was to help, whether it was launching the jobs program for athletes in the early 1980s, overseeing the expansion of Tiger Stadium or acting as a confidant for his friend Nick Saban, whom he helped lure to Tigertown.

The Richard Gill I knew grew up in the shadows of Webb Park and attended Catholic High before transferring to University High as a junior. Most of that time was spent with Richard either creating havoc with friends Steve Carter and Bridger Eglin—or pushing some piece-of-crud Dodge he bought up a Park Boulevard hill near City Park.

I wasn’t alive when Gill lived that life, but sit at a table when the three of them are reminiscing—and filling the room with laughter—and you feel like you were there. The only problem, of course, is that the tales have gotten taller with age. Listen to those three and they’ll convince you Richard was a star quarterback, not the oft-injured end of reality.

But this story is true: After a newspaper story incorrectly gave credit for five catches made by Newton Thomas to Richard, the senior backup suddenly found himself receiving recruiting letters from about a dozen colleges.

Those stories were priceless.

After Richard moved to Charlotte the trips down memory lane have been missing.

Now that Richard has left us, the future will be missing something too.