I interviewed Ron Wommack, FAIA, for the first and last time on June 17, for a piece that will run in the upcoming Fall issue of D Home. The highly regarded architect was enthusiastic and honest, funny and humble. He was kind. He was curious—a quality kept him youthful, he said. He loved meeting people and digging deep to really get to know them. “Meet every two, three weeks and chit chat,” he said. At the end of our conversation, he extended an invitation: “You can always call me back and chit chat anytime.”
That chance would never come. Ron passed away suddenly on June 30, at the age of 73, in his Farmers Branch home. His last words, according to his wife, Joylyn, were about architecture—something that surely came as no surprise to those who knew him. “I’m a total architectural junkie,” he told me in our interview. “I’ve got a wide library of books piled up everywhere. I’m just learning. I’ve resigned myself to think I’m just an eternal student. That’s really all I am. I just want to learn all the time.”
It’s strange to think of someone so accomplished as having anything left to learn. Having worked under renowned modernists Bud Oglesby and Frank Welch early in his career, Wommack established his namesake firm in 1990. His thoughtful take on a series of townhomes in the late ’90s not only earned him accolades but helped revitalize the Oak Lawn neighborhood. He won 12 AIA design awards over his career, including one for the Douglas Avenue house he designed for himself in 2008.
He shared his wisdom and passion for his craft as an adjunct professor at the University of Texas at Arlington, and more informally as a mentor to up-and-comers in his industry. One of those was Andrea Álvarez of Andrea Álvarez Studio. “I don’t think he was aware of how impactful and meaningful his architecture and his presence were to Dallas,” she says, “or perhaps he was too humble to accept and acknowledge it.”
And while his talent is well documented, in speaking with those who knew him in the days since his passing, it was his character that made the most indelible impact. Friends and colleagues share their remembrances.
“Ron was one of the first people I got to know in Dallas. I moved here in 1982 with my first husband, David, who was also an architect. I was working at Thomas Booziotis, and David got a job with The Oglesby Group. There were a great group of young architects working there at the time, and Ron was one of them—as well as Max Levy, Joe McCall, and several others.
The year before we moved here, Oglesby had a great year, and they gave all the architects in the office, including the baby ones, a nice bonus. Some of them put the money in savings, paid off credit cards, finished the DIY bathroom remodel that they started but didn’t have the money to finish—you know, boring, responsible things. Ron, however, decided the best use of his money was to buy two black leather Le Corbusier chairs—a true modernist. I am sure they are still in his house. He will be missed.” —Tricy Magadini, Bernbaum/Magadini Architects
“A couple of weeks ago, Ron and I drove out into the country to see a project of mine that was nearing completion. We roamed the project discussing the travails and joys of building, went into the little nearby town and had lunch on the square in a non-chain café, then drove back to Dallas.
We talked the entire time. We talked about the latest book he’d added to his extensive architecture library, about the industrial vernacular buildings we passed on the fringes of town, about the rural vernacular buildings marooned out in the fields, about peoples’ lives attached to these places, about how beautiful the modest countryside was in a certain light, about the mistreated stretches of nature we hurtled past, about our grandchildren, about the sandblasted 1890s metal ceiling of the cafe, about funny memories when we worked at The Oglesby Group together back in the ’80s, and on and on. In short, we talked about all of life, braided with architecture.
The entire time, Ron sort of beamed with a quiet enthusiasm. So it was with his thoughts, his design work, and his friendships.
From my heart, thanks for the ride, Ron.” —Max Levy, Max Levy Architect
“When Ron came to Dallas 40 years ago, he joined our softball team. He became a great architect and teacher, but he started out as a terrific hitter. And terrific guy. We will all miss him.” —Dan Shipley, Shipley Architects
“In a digital age, Ron stood for a humanistic and enduring architecture, reminding us that space, light, craft, and especially looking deeply are what have always, and will always, matter most.” —Gregory S. Ibañez, Ibañez Shaw Architecture
“Ron was such a legend. His work was uncompromising, elegant, and original. He was a mentor, teacher, and great steward of the practice. Over 20 years ago, I decided to move to Dallas and started researching the work of local architects. He was the first architect that I gravitated towards and was also the first architect to respond to my questions about his work. He took the time to connect with you.
A few years later, he designed and developed his house on Douglas. I was absolutely stunned and enamored with the project. To me, it was a master work.
Over the last several years, I saw Ron champion and mentor young architects. As well, we had the privilege of collaborating with him on early design proposals. He was so engaging; what a joy to be around. What a personality!” —Joshua Nimmo, NIMMO Architecture
“Conversations and collaborations on a few projects always improved the quality of my work. Ron held the highest standards for architectural design—something we should all strive to achieve.” —Bruce Bernbaum, Bernbaum/Magadini Architects
“I learned about Ron soon after I moved to Dallas. The townhome projects both in the Deep Ellum and the Uptown area caught my attention for their uniqueness yet quiet architecture. Once I finally met him, I quickly realized that he was not only that incredible regional, modern architect whose sensibilities around scale, light and space were so fine-tuned, but he was also an amazing human.
Ron was an open book, full of knowledge and experience, willing to share it all with people around him. The most interesting part is he didn’t see it that way. He saw conversations and interactions as a reciprocal learning experience, as he was always in search of growth.
He was active, with tireless energy: “Age is a state of mind! I feel like I’m 25 years old!” he told me recently. Ron lived a present life, never took it for granted, and saw every day as a gift and an opportunity to learn.
Not only were you an incredibly talented architect, but you were one of the kindest souls. Rest easy, my dear friend and mentor. You are already terribly missed.” —Andrea Álvarez, Andrea Álvarez Studio
“Ron touched so many lives in a positive and uplifting way…and he brought a real sense of joy to his craft. He will be greatly missed by all who knew him.” —Russell Buchanan, Buchanan Architecture
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