Paul Robert Hurley
Paul with our son Trigg
The obituary I wrote for my “wusband,” with my son Reilly’s help —
Paul Robert Hurley
April 17, 1947 to March 27, 2026
Multiple choice:
a. Paul was born in an isolated cabin without running water or electricity, somewhere in the mountains of Utah on a cold midwinter’s night, in the middle of the blizzard of the century…
b. Paul, aka “Divot Dome” ** came to planet Earth in the form of a human infant, emerging from a flower-shaped capsule that landed on the shore of the Great Salt Lake and quickly melted as he crawled toward the nearest highway, where a kind, childless couple driving by spotted him…
c. Paul was the first child of Rosemary Hurley (nee Ralph) and Andrew Riley Hurley, born on April 17, 1947 at about the same time that Jackie Robinson successfully bunted to record his first major league hit for the Brooklyn Dodgers…
Seriously, “c” is the correct answer, though we are stretching the truth slightly because it’s doubtful that the hour of Paul’s birth exactly matched the time of Robinson’s color-barrier-breaking bunt.
Paul Robert Hurley was born (April 17, 1947) and raised in Salt Lake City, Utah, not too far from his father’s family origins in Park City. That’s where Paul (and some of his four younger siblings) would spend happy days visiting their widowed grandmother, Rhea Riley Hurley, editor of the town newspaper. They called her Grandma Choo Choo, because, in those days – Park City was still a mining town and the relatively regal Hurley house sat atop a hill, overlooking the train cars into which ore was loaded from aerial tramway buckets sliding on cables past his grandmother’s windows.
Paul graduated in 1965 from Judge Memorial High School, a Catholic prep school in Salt Lake City. He earned an undergraduate degree in philosophy at the University of Utah in 1969, then studied briefly at UC Berkeley before earning a masters degree and very nearly completing his doctorate in Public Affairs and Community Service at University of Oregon in Eugene. There, Paul worked at the White Bird Clinic and then surprised everyone (including himself) in 1970 by co-founding the teen-crisis center that is now – 60 years later – known as Looking Glass Community Services.
During these years, Paul traveled extensively throughout Europe and Asia, often in the company of his brother Patrick. Back in the U.S., his adventurous spirit, interest in geology, and love of the wide-open spaces of the intermountain West led him to become a traveling “rock hound” hippie. He began mining for picture jasper, and he and his colleagues extracted this rare form of quartz from the rattlesnake-laden deserts of western Idaho and eastern Oregon. They cut and polished the minerals into highly coveted stones – for jewelry or as standalone sculptures. Paul and others sold picture jasper on the road (nationally and internationally) to rock and gem collectors, and some of his pieces are included in the collection of the Smithsonian.
Paul – on a whim, during a visit with one of his customers who was quitting the jewelry business – took over his lease in Ketchum (Sun Valley), Idaho for $1. He subsequently opened Paul R Hurley Ltd Jewelry and operated it for about a decade, running a manufactory operation as well as a luxury retail shop that sold to locals, visiting tourists, and Hollywood celebrities.
In 1985, Paul moved to San Francisco and found his calling as a residential Realtor at Mason McDuffie, then McGuire RE, then Kindred SF Homes. He was a top-producing agent and property developer, serving hundreds of families and individuals in their quest for “home” – right up until the end. Among his proudest achievements was his service as a board member of San Francisco Waldorf School. During his tenure – and largely due to his extraordinary efforts (along with those of David Bushnell and Caspar Mol) – SFWS acquired the property for, renovated, and opened the SF Waldorf High School on West Portal.
“Devoted father” was surely Paul’s role of a lifetime. He found boundless fulfillment and joy in watching and guiding his sons, Reilly and Trigg, as they grew. His commitment to their well-being and his belief in their goodness never faltered. If you asked him what made his life worthwhile, he’d answer “my sons” every time.
Paul was an avid outdoorsman. He loved nothing better than hiking and fly-fishing (except perhaps watching other people fly fish). He was also a “lively” (his adjective) ballroom dancer, with a full dance card at any party. If he missed any calling, it would have been his potential career as a stand-up comedian. Those who knew him best will tell you they never met anyone funnier.
Possessed of keen wit, sharp observation skills, a knack for problem-solving and conflict resolution, a reliable moral compass, and a caring heart, Paul committed himself – always – to the progress of others. He saw the very best in everyone, looked for the truth in every situation, and served as cheerleader, coach, and an avid fan for his loved ones, for his clients, and – yes – even for people he didn’t particularly like. He was a true bodhisattva.
Paul “went up yonder” (another of his fond expressions) while he slept during the early hours of March 27, 2026. We’d like to think he spotted the glint of a prized steelhead trout or an enticing mineral specimen beckoning from the beyond. Those of us left behind include Paul’s sons, Reilly Hurley and Trigg Hurley, his sister, Sally Hurley, his brothers, Patrick Hurley, Jim Hurley, and Mike Hurley, nephew, Dylan Hurley, and his once-wife Cynthia Cummins, and her kin. Already up yonder are Paul’s father, Andrew Hurley, his mother Rosemary Hurley, his aunt Sally Hurley, his father-in-law and fishing buddy Brownie Cummins, and many other beloveds. We, the living, are heartbroken yet filled with the reassurance that Paul loved us mightily and that we loved him right back. His humor, wisdom, and life of service to family and friends live on in us all.
**Divot Dome was the nickname Paul’s uncles gave him because of the shape of his head as a youngster.
