We recently had the chance to connect with Rickey Chavez and have shared our conversation below.
Rickey, it’s always a pleasure to learn from you and your journey. Let’s start with a bit of a warmup: What is something outside of work that is bringing you joy lately?
Something outside of work that’s been bringing me a lot of joy lately is a TV show I started hosting about six months ago on Now Media Television called Battle Ready. On the show, I interview people and dive into their journeys—where they started, the challenges they faced, and how they became who they are today.
What I love most is meeting new people and really hearing their stories. So many of them have gone through serious trials and tribulations that you’d never know just by looking at where they are now. It’s a powerful reminder that you don’t know what you don’t know. There are incredible people walking alongside us every day, and most of us have no idea what they’ve had to overcome to get to this point.
Hearing those stories, understanding their evolution, and learning what shaped them has been incredibly inspiring. It’s humbling, motivating, and honestly amazing to see the resilience, grit, and purpose that so many people carry with them.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Team Lead | The Rickey Chavez Team
Better Homes and Gardens Real Estate | Gary Greene
MBA | Retired U.S. Army | Former HR Professional | TV Host
I’m Rickey Chavez—Team Lead of The Rickey Chavez Team at Better Homes and Gardens Real Estate Gary Greene, retired U.S. Army veteran, MBA with a concentration in Human Resources, and host of Battle Ready on NowMedia Television.
With over two decades of leadership experience rooted in military service and corporate HR, I bring discipline, strategy, and a deep commitment to people into every facet of my work. In real estate, I lead a results-driven team focused on guiding clients through one of life’s biggest decisions with clarity, care, and integrity.
As the host of Battle Ready, I spotlight stories of reinvention and resilience—helping others discover the mindset, tools, and courage it takes to overcome challenges and achieve greatness.
Let’s connect if you’re passionate about leadership, personal growth, real estate, or building something meaningful. I’m always open to collaborating, sharing insights, or mentoring future leaders.
Thanks for sharing that. Would love to go back in time and hear about how your past might have impacted who you are today. What’s a moment that really shaped how you see the world?
Pay It Forward
Around 1989, someone very important to me was dying of brain cancer.
His wife would call me and put me on the phone with him. Some days, in the middle of the conversation, he wouldn’t know who I was anymore. Other days, he was clear, sharp, and present. No matter what kind of day it was, we talked.
This man stepped into my life when I was young and headed in the wrong direction—at a time when I truly had no one else. What I didn’t understand back then was why he did it.
He served in the Army in Vietnam with my dad.
My father was a Mexican American kid from a small farming town in New Mexico. He grew up surrounded by trouble, limited opportunities, and hard lessons learned early. The Army changed the trajectory of his life.
This man—Black, from Georgia, married, with no children—was one of the men who went through Vietnam with him. There was a bond between them that I never knew about growing up. The kind of bond you don’t explain. The kind that only comes from surviving something together.
Years later, that same man pinned my Airborne wings on me at Army Parachute School. At the time, I didn’t fully understand the weight of that moment. I do now.
As his illness progressed, the clear moments became fewer. By then, I was in the Army myself, stationed far away. Our conversations happened over the phone. No sitting beside a hospital bed. No last handshake. Just voices, distance, and time working against us.
During one of his final coherent moments, I told him—while trying to keep my composure—that I didn’t know how I could ever repay him for everything he had done for me. He pulled me out of a bad situation when no one else would. He didn’t have to. He had his own life, his own responsibilities. But he chose to step in.
He said,
“Rickey, this isn’t about paying me back. Pay it forward. Change someone else’s life.”
That was it. No lecture. No conditions. No expectation of recognition.
He didn’t have children of his own. But he left something behind anyway.
Without his intervention, I honestly don’t know where my life would have gone. I don’t know the direction I would have taken, or if I would have found my way at all.
That phone call changed how I see the world.
To this day, my wife jokes with me that I’m always trying to save the world.
She’s probably right.
But what she really knows—and what I know—is that I’m not trying to save the world. I’m just trying to pay it forward.
And then, almost thirty years later, the circle closed.
His wife—the same woman who used to put me on the phone with her husband during those difficult days—was later diagnosed with cancer herself. Despite that, she traveled to attend my son’s graduation from Army Parachute School.
Nearly thirty years to the date.
She stood there as my son earned the same wings her husband once pinned on me.
In that moment, I understood something I hadn’t fully grasped before:
legacy isn’t loud.
It doesn’t announce itself.
It just keeps showing up—generation after generation.
Every kid I take time with.
Every person I step in for.
Every moment I choose to help instead of walking past.
That’s not saving the world.
That’s honoring a promise.
A promise forged in Vietnam between two soldiers from different worlds.
Carried forward through quiet actions.
And proven, decades later, when the ripple reached my son.
As long as I’m here, I’ll keep paying it forward.
Is there something you miss that no one else knows about?
The Thing I Didn’t Know I Missed
Is there something you miss that no one else knows about?
That’s a strange question, because the truth is—you don’t know what you don’t know. And for a long time, I didn’t realize there was something I missed. I just knew there was a quiet thought that kept showing up every now and then, usually without warning.
I went to school in a lot of places.
Germany.
Georgia.
Texas.
I transferred from school to school, again and again. New hallways. New teachers. New faces. Every time, I was the new kid. The one trying to figure out where to sit, who was who, what mattered, and how not to stand out too much.
Growing up, I’d watch TV shows and movies about kids going to school with the same people from elementary all the way through high school. Same classmates. Same friendships. Same inside jokes that carried on for years. It always looked so… normal. So American.
What really made it hit home was my wife. To this day—well into her 50s—she’s still friends with people she went to elementary school with. They share memories that go back decades. Stories that don’t need context. Laughter that doesn’t need explanation.
That was never my experience.
Those kids had known each other forever. They had history. I was the outsider stepping into a story that had already started long before I arrived. And just when I’d start to find my place, it was time to move again.
For a long time, I didn’t think much of it. I had friends everywhere. Germany gave me friends. Georgia gave me friends. Texas gave me friends. I learned how to connect quickly, how to adapt, how to fit in without losing myself.
But every once in a while, I’d wonder…
What would it have been like to grow up in one place?
To go to the same elementary school, junior high, and high school?
To know the same kids year after year?
To grow roots instead of wings?
That was the thing I missed—or at least, the thing I wondered if I missed.
And here’s the honest part: I don’t even know if I truly missed out. Because while I didn’t have continuity, I gained something else. I learned how to walk into unfamiliar places. I learned how to build friendships anywhere. I learned how to be comfortable being uncomfortable.
Some people belong deeply in one place.
I belong broadly across many.
So maybe I didn’t miss the American dream. Maybe I just lived a different version of it. One that doesn’t show up in movies. One that doesn’t come with lifelong classmates—but comes with lifelong adaptability.
And when I look at my life now—at the friendships I’ve built, the people I’ve met, the places I’ve been—I can honestly say this:
I have a lot of cool friends from everywhere.
And that… is pretty amazing.
Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. What would your closest friends say really matters to you?
If you asked my closest friends what really matters to me, they’d probably laugh before they answered.
Someone would shake their head and say, “Rickey’s got a guy.”
And if that person couldn’t help, another friend would jump in and add, “Or a girl. He’s always got a guy or a girl.”
That joke didn’t come from nowhere.
It came from years of people calling me with problems that weren’t mine to solve—and watching me solve them anyway. Or at least get them halfway there. I might not fix the roof, write the loan, heal the relationship, or untangle the paperwork… but I know the person who can. And if I don’t, I’ll find them.
They’d tell you I collect people the way some folks collect business cards. Not for status. Not for leverage. For moments. For the day someone’s stuck, stressed, or one step away from giving up and needs to hear, “Hold on, I’ve got a guy.”
They joke about it, but they also rely on it.
They’ve seen me stop what I’m doing to make an introduction. They’ve watched me connect dots that didn’t look connected at all. A friend of a friend becomes the answer to someone else’s problem. A quick text turns into relief. A name and a number turn panic into a plan.
And somewhere along the way, being a Go-Giver stopped being something I did and became who I am. I don’t lead with What do I get out of this? I lead with Who can help? Because I’ve learned that nobody makes it through life alone—and most people just need the right connection at the right time.
So yeah, my friends joke that I’ve “got a guy.”
But what they really mean is this:
If you’re stuck, struggling, or unsure of your next move…
I won’t leave you there.
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. If you retired tomorrow, what would your customers miss most?
If I Retired Tomorrow, What Would My Clients Miss?
It’s a question I’ve been asked more than once, and every time I hear it, I pause—because the honest answer usually surprises people.
If I retired tomorrow, my customers probably wouldn’t miss anything.
Not because I wasn’t present. Not because I didn’t care. But because they already know something that matters far more than a job title or a business card: they know they can always call me—and I’ll answer.
I left Corporate America in 2016. The role changed, the schedule changed, and the paycheck stopped. What didn’t change were the phone calls. To this day, former employees still reach out asking for guidance, advice, or simply reassurance. There’s no agenda. No transaction. Just trust built over time.
That pattern didn’t start in Corporate America. It started much earlier.
I served as an Army recruiter for many years and retired from the Army in 2002. Recruiting wasn’t just about filling quotas—it was about people. About listening. About helping someone see a future they weren’t sure was possible.
In 1988, I recruited a high school senior. He was just a kid back then, standing at the edge of adulthood, trying to figure out his next step. Life happened the way it always does—careers, family, challenges, successes. Decades passed.
Today, that same kid is 55 years old.
We still talk regularly.
And now, all these years later, I’m helping him sell his home.
That’s not a coincidence. That’s what relationships look like when they’re built on consistency, honesty, and showing up long after you’re required to. The uniforms change. The industries change. The business cards get replaced. But trust—real trust—doesn’t expire.
In real estate, people often talk about transactions: listings, closings, commissions. But the truth is, the transaction is just the moment. The relationship is the legacy.
I don’t stop answering the phone when the deal is done.
I don’t disappear when the role changes.
And I don’t forget the people who trusted me with important moments in their lives.
So if I retired tomorrow, what would my clients miss?
Probably nothing—because they know I’m still here.
And that, to me, is what real service looks like.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://rickeychavez.garygreene.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rickey.chavez.realtor/
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/rickchavez/
- Twitter: https://x.com/TRCTsellsHtown
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rickey.chavez.realtor
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCsXA0_dg0HHbz60g3pAbHjA
- Other: https://battle-ready.castos.com/
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