José Luis Romany was a deeply religious man, not only in the faith he professed but also in the open, kind way with which he treated everyone, a far cry from hierarchies, in solidarity with the world’s disinherited and dispossessed. This silent fervor marked his whole life, both in private and in his professional practice. He lived to be 103, staying alert to everything beautiful and good. Romany was a painter, a photographer, but above all a magnificent draftsman. Behind his sharp eye and skillful hand was an architect who with as much affection as exactitude conjured up floor plans, elevations, and sections, always assiduously outlined and rendered. He was also an urban planner, in the profound sense of the word that can only be attributed to those gifted with the capacity to read the city and its geography, interpret it, explain it, and dare to design it. Romany was an urbanist without having studied land laws and such theories. He was simply a wayfarer of towns and cities. A good architect, he took on the noble task of providing shelter to people who barely had roofs over their heads. He tackled the difficult problem of designing homes for anonymous clients, never at any point forgetting that they were individuals with names and surnames. Romany was linked to a pleiad of ‘young architects’ who brought modernity into the country, learned it with hard work, and adapted it to conditions in a then still shrunken Spain, without sacrificing disciplinary rigor and ethical purpose, to eventually pass it on to subsequent generations of practitioners, in a communion of effort and love for architecture.