Remembering Rick Caragher

A Beloved Educator Whose Care for Others Touched Generations

The Polytechnic School community mourns the loss of our beloved teacher, coach, mentor, and friend, Rick Caragher, who passed away on October 27, 2026, after suffering a stroke. 

For nearly four decades, Rick was an extraordinary presence at Poly, touching countless lives through his dedication to teaching, his passion for global education, and his genuine care for others. He had a remarkable ability to see the humanity in each of us, encouraging those around him to approach the world with compassion, and an open mind.

Throughout his tenure at Poly, Rick taught history in both the Middle and Upper Schools and coached several sports, including cross country, basketball, and track and field. His commitment to learning beyond the classroom was especially evident through his leadership of PolyGlobal, formerly known as the Global Initiatives Program, which he helped lead for 17 of its first 20 years. Through international travel, cultural exchanges, and a thought-provoking speaker series, Rick helped generations of students broaden their perspectives, engage with complex global issues, and deepen their understanding of the world.

Rick's connection to Poly extended well beyond his professional life. It was here that he met his wife, Lisa, who retired after 32 years of service to the school. Their daughters, Shae ’17 and Keara ’20, are both Poly Lifers. Together, the Caragher family has been an integral part of the Poly community for decades.

While Rick's contributions to Poly were extraordinary, it is the relationships he built and the kindness he extended so freely that will remain with us. His influence lives on in the students he inspired, the colleagues he supported, and the countless friendships he formed along the way.

A Message From Rick's Family

As we sit down to write these words to the community that my dad spent two-thirds of his life dedicated to, growing in and with, learning from and contributing to, going above and beyond in, we pause and ask—what to say about the most precious soul we know? Where to begin?

Our family always joked that we bled orange—my parents met on the steps of Flagler (where the 3-5 playground now sits) and had their wedding reception outside of Founders Hall. My dad walked the halls holding my hand and with my sister strapped to his chest. My sister and I spent 14 years of our lives there as students, and my parents’ combined years of service was over 70 years. And our family spent countless nights in the gym and on the field and in the theatre cheering on athletics and the arts.

Simply, the Poly community was and is an extension of our larger family. That has never been more evident than in this grieving process, the truly thousands of people from Poly who have reached out, left notes, sent flowers and food, cried with us and for us. What an immense gift to have such an abundance of love. And, of course, the reason for this outpouring of love is a devastating and incomprehensible one.

Poly meant more to my dad than I could or even he could ever express.

My dad lived life simultaneously simply and complexly—simple pleasures like good mornings and hellos brightened up his day. He didn’t need the new or fanciest things; he preferred long conversations on tattered couches or standing in the brick courtyard.

And his life was complex in terms of how his mind worked and moved. His brain was vast and immense and stored more data on the people he loved than anyone else I know—he never forgot names or birthdays or the little details shared, and he intentionally followed up on each one of them. It was also complex in the way he told jokes and offered analogies, most of them requiring an explanation, but oh man, I am sure we all miss those jokes and analogies.

Poly provided such a beautiful space for my dad’s simplicity and complexities.

He was outside the front gate every morning at 8 a.m. greeting people (seriously, I knew not to call him between 7:55–8:30 a.m. because this greeting time was his favorite part of his day). He had big dreams and big visions both within the immediate Poly community and globally, and he would be in and out of meetings and impromptu conversations with people sharing those ideas and finding ways to facilitate them and bring others’ dreams to life as well.

Through Poly, my dad was able to engage with the whole world and encourage his students and colleagues to do so daily. He had a beautiful set of core values, one of which being “ubuntu,” a Nguni Bantu word from South Africa meaning humanity or “I am because we are.”

He wore a beaded bracelet with the word ubuntu on it every day to remind himself and others that we are not in this world alone, that our choices impact others, that we get to do life with others and that we should always be curious about the lives of those around us. To be in conversation with Mr. Caragher was to be seen and known, to be truly cared for.

There are a million more things that we could say, and somehow every word I type feels to be too much and not enough, so what we want to say is thank you.

Thank you for your outpouring of love and support, thank you for your generosity, thank you for honoring my dad, thank you for being his family and in turn, ours.

We are planning a big ol’ celebration of life and will absolutely let you know about those details as they are finalized—all we know for now is that there will be lots of orange and there will be lots of food!

To close, many have reached out and shared that the idea of “Live Like Rick” has really stuck with them. I wrote those out on the floor of the hospital bathroom through tears and with shaky fingers. I wasn’t even sure what I was writing was coherent, but what a gift to know that so many have adopted that phrase and pursue the life that my dad did—love others deeply, be curious and slow to speak, walk everywhere, ask for people’s names, celebrate the marginalized, laugh a lot, and hold your family so close.

With immense gratitude and all of our love,

Forever Rick’s girls (Lisa, Shae, and Keara)

Share A Memory of Rick 

We invite members of the Poly community to celebrate Rick's life by sharing a favorite memory, photograph, or a few words about the difference he made in their lives.

These reflections will be preserved and shared with Rick’s family.

Memorial Information

Plans to honor and celebrate Rick's life are still being determined in coordination with his family. We will share additional information here as it becomes available.

We extend our deepest condolences to Lisa, Shaelyn, Keara, and the entire Caragher family, and remain grateful for the extraordinary impact Rick had on generations of the Poly community.
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