Thanks to her incredible generosity Marjorie Barrick will live on through her lecture series at UNLV. But you wouldn’t have known that by the sparse crowd of about 60 who showed up to pay tribute to her at a memorial service at Ham Hall on campus.

In the foyer of the auditorium where Barrick brought more than 40 prominent speakers to UNLV there were more empty chairs than tribute payers and the luncheon buffet for 200 was left for the taking.

It’s too bad that only one regent, Thalia Dondero, could make it and no other elected officials were present because Marjorie Barrick did so much to enrich Las Vegas.

The program was scheduled to coincide with a meeting of the UNLV Foundation Board of Trustees comprised of big money donors to campus, but not many of its members found their way across the street to attend. However, a representative of the Creighton University Foundation flew in from Omaha to represent that university.

Barrick died April 29 at the age of 89.

Larry Henley, director of artistic programming at UNLV, reminisced privately about Barrick after the 30-minute program and noted what an ordinary person she was despite her vast wealth. He said Barrick was committed to bringing the rest of the planet to Las Vegas through the lecture series she endowed 38 years ago.

Dondero echoed sentiments about Barrick’s unpretentiousness. She said decades ago they regularly encountered each other at a Safeway grocery store on Charleston near Maryland Parkway and would visit as they strolled the aisles.

Official speakers, including past UNLV presidents Pat Goodall and Carol Harter, spoke of Barrick’s generosity and the vision she had when she met with Goodall in 1979 to plan the lecture series named for her late husband, Edward Barrick.

“Her lecture series tied the campus and the community together,” Goodall said, noting that she was adamant that it be free so Las Vegans could hear speakers that others paid $20, $30 or $50 to hear.

Goodall also noted the many grants she gave to professors and students across the campus and the Barrick Museum, which is another tribute to her substantial donations.

Former UNLV President Bob Maxson’s daughter, Kim, attended the service and said her father wanted to be there, but business in Sacramento kept him away. She said her dad appreciated how Barrick enriched the university.

Speakers Michael Gaughan and Nancy Houssels shared memories of knowing her as a friend. “I knew her for 60 years, but she knew me for 64 years,” he said, recalling Barrick’s visit to an Omaha hospital to see him as a newborn. Barrick’s husband and Michael’s grandfather were business partners in Omaha and Ed Barrick was instrumental in getting Gaughan’s father, Jackie, to move to Las Vegas.

Gaughan said Barrick always earmarked her donations and was particular in giving money away to make sure it was spent as she wished.

Houssels described Barrick as a woman of her word, but of few words and as warm, but abrupt. In recent years Houssels witnessed Barrick giving pieces of jewelry as tips to waitresses in restaurants because she would rather someone at Landrys, rather than the IRS, shared her wealth.

In her private life Barrick was just as generous as her public persona. She introduced me to the concept of enriching children’s lives by gifting them with stock upon their birth. When my son, Walter, was born 19-plus years ago she insisted that we get him a Social Security number immediately. That was so she could buy him Ralston Purina stock with an admonishment that it should not be spent until he started college. Her reasoning in buying that stock was that people would always have pets and would always feed them well.

Barrick came into my life more than 25 years ago via our wonderful mutual friend, Charles Vanda. He was her frequent companion when we met and until his death in 1988. Vanda liked to be in charge in relationships. He determined where to dine, what table to request, what food to order. But when Barrick wanted her way she merely had to say, “Now Charles“.

Twenty years ago when my husband and I decided to have a small best-friends-only wedding at my sister’s house on a Saturday morning we invited Vanda. He insisted on bringing Marjorie. “Why,” I asked. Always the ultimate public relations practitioner, Vanda replied, “Because she’d love to come and then you can always say that Marjorie Barrick was at your wedding.”