Rick and Molly Klau tell their story the way couples married for more than five decades often do: in overlapping memories, affectionate corrections, and the easy rhythm of two people who have been building a life together for a very long time. At one point, Rick lovingly defers to his wife and says, “It’s not Rick and Molly. It’s Molly and Rick, and I’m actually Mr. Molly.”
It is a funny line, but it also reveals a truth. Their story is not one of two parallel lives. It is one shared life, shaped by faith, work, family, sacrifice, and, now, a deep commitment to philanthropy.
A Catholic girl from Maryland, a Navy reservist, and two versions of the same love story
Molly grew up near Annapolis, Maryland, and attended Catholic school from kindergarten through 12th grade before heading to the University of Maryland. Her Catholic background has been a steady part of her life from the beginning. Rick, who was born in Milwaukee and later moved with his family to suburban Maryland, also attended the University of Maryland. That is where they met. Though, depending on who is telling the story, the details vary.
Molly likes to joke that she was “chasing Rick around campus” trying to get his attention, while Rick quips that Molly was dating her way through his fraternity alphabetically, a version that Molly immediately rejects.
The important part is that they found each other.
They began dating during the Vietnam era, when Rick was in the Navy Reserves. As graduation approached, the couple faced a choice: pause the relationship while Rick went on active duty, likely to Vietnam, or get married and face whatever came next together. They chose marriage. While Rick’s fraternity brothers headed off on spring break trips, Rick and Molly got married and took a three-day honeymoon to New York.
That decision set the pattern for so much of what followed: when life presented uncertainty, they moved forward together.
Klau: A family shaped by work, relocation, and faith
After college, Rick’s career quickly set the course for the couple’s early family life. He began as a photojournalist in the Navy, writing for the Navy Times, and by the time he left military service, he and Molly had already welcomed their first child.
He had planned to go back to school on the GI Bill. Instead, General Electric made him an offer that launched a long business career and a life marked by movement. Over the years, Rick’s work took the family from state to state as they built their family around new opportunities.
“I think we had 11 addresses in 7 states over my career,” says Rick, and Molly chimes in, “At one point, we moved five times in four years!”
Through all of it, Molly was raising their children, building community wherever they landed, and bringing the steadiness that made such a mobile life possible.
Eventually, Rick’s work led the family to Minneapolis, where another part of their story deepened. They found a Catholic parish they loved and formed friendships that would last a lifetime. Molly’s Catholic faith had always been central to her life, and thanks to their experience in the Minneapolis parish, Rick entered the Catholic Church as well.
After decades of work and many moves, Rick retired six years ago and the couple moved to Denver to be close to their son and his family.
Molly and Rick Klau: Choosing philanthropy on purpose
When they arrived in Denver, Rick and Molly suddenly had time, resources, and a question in front of them: how should they use both? Molly puts it simply: “We wanted to do philanthropy, and do it right.”
Before Colorado, they had supported their church and written checks to important causes, but they had not always been able to put time behind their giving.
So in Denver, they got intentional. After meeting with an estate lawyer, they were introduced to local philanthropic networks and created a donor-advised fund. They began learning the city through its needs, asking to understand homelessness, food insecurity, health care systems, and other community issues. Rather than scatter their support, they wanted to know where they could be useful.
One of their earliest commitments in Denver was with Arrupe Jesuit High School. Neighbors invited them to a fundraiser, and after touring the school and meeting its leaders, they became donors. Rick later joined the board, serving on the finance committee, philanthropy committee, and capital campaign committee.
As their philanthropic life grew, so did their circle of like-minded friends. Through their research into causes to support, they met Jack and Judy Pottle, who eventually introduced them to Escuela de Guadalupe.
Why Escuela speaks to them
That introduction led to a Zoom call during the early COVID years, then to a tour of Escuela. Rick was struck by then-president Michelle Galuszka’s vision for the school. He and Molly walked the building, spent time talking, and soon became donors. Later, they were able to make a matching gift to support a campaign at the school, and they also made a gift honoring Michelle’s work as she departed.
What compels them about Escuela is not abstract. It is deeply connected to what they have learned to value most in philanthropy: strong leadership, visible impact, and the formation of young people. Additionally, they are moved by Escuela’s impact on children and families, by the enthusiasm of the educators, and by the school’s multicultural richness. At Escuela, they saw children not only learning Spanish, but also receiving exposure to the cultures of Central and South America through the families and communities around them.
That matters to the Klaus because they have become increasingly clear about the kind of giving they want to do. Over more than a decade in Colorado, they discovered that when they give, they want to see accountable missions, updates on progress, and the right leaders in place. And Escuela fits that vision.
The blessing of being able to give
Their commitment to philanthropy is also rooted in gratitude. The Klaus both describe their upbringings as simple and middle class. There was a time, Rick remembers, when they “didn’t have two nickels to rub together.” Now, after a lifetime of work and movement and responsibility, they are in a very different position. That reality is not something either of them takes lightly.
“It’s humbling,” Molly says. “It’s absolutely humbling.” Then she explains it the way she sees so much of life now: not as a personal triumph, but as grace. “There’s pride in supporting what these organizations are doing. Our gifts came from us, but that came from God. We are blessed.”
She says something similar when describing the work they have done at the University of Notre Dame, where their younger son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter all studied. Over time, the Klaus became deeply involved there, judging business plan competitions, supporting the entrepreneurship center, endowing a scholarship and a library program, and eventually helping endow the Klau Institute for Civil and Human Rights.
Building the next generation
Their “pet project” now is establishing a family foundation that will inspire their sons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren to carry on the family’s philanthropy.
The goal is not simply to pass along money. Rick and Molly want the next generations of their family to understand what it means to give with purpose.
That desire feels especially fitting for a couple whose whole life has been one long lesson in faithful partnership. Rick calls himself the logic; Molly brings the emotional instinct. He does the research; she helps shape the direction. Together, they are a team.
“It’s a good partnership,” Molly says.
And Mr. Molly agrees.
