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This is a picture of my dad when he was a very young man picking cotton in a field somewhere in central Texas with his father and siblings. He was always a hardworking person, who learned at a very early age that nothing comes without effort. My Aunt Cokie (Daddy's sister-in-law and the keeper of Ray family history) sent this picture to my mother in a birthday card last week. I lost my dad when I was very young, and even though I have many fond memories, this picture really helped me to realize how little I knew of who he really was. I wish so that I had been able to know him as an adult. I remember him as a fascinating person, with terrific stories about growing up in rural Texas in the 30's. He loved to fish and hunt and he was a fantastic, naturally talented albeit untrained musician...

My dad was a country boy at heart, but he was also forward thinking. He found technological advancements fascinating. He was into CB and Ham radios in the 70's and I don't doubt if he'd lived into the 80's and 90's he would have been enthralled by personal computers and the dawn of the information age. I remember watching the Apollo 11 manned moon shot with my dad on the news. He found space travel amazing, and knew that this was something his children should be informed of and understand well.

A simple man with a rural background, but with a fascination for science and technology; this dichotomy made him all the more interesting. As I looked at this picture for the first time this weekend, I was stricken with a memory of a conversation he and I had once. Daddy always talked to me like I was an intelligent person, in spite of my youth, and I am so thankful he shared his insights with me. This particular conversation took place while we were driving through the San Joaquin Valley on a warm summer day. I don't recall if anyone else was in the car, or where we were heading, but I still clearly see the cotton field, shimmering through the heat vapors that rose off the blacktop. At the closest corner of the field stood a cotton picker machine. These large pieces of farm equipment used to remind me of a big bug, with the bubble shaped cage on their backs, waiting to catch all the cotton as it was gently stripped from the cotton bowls. Now this machine wasn't new or unfamiliar to me, and being a young child, I couldn't have known what a novel invention it truly was. My father on the other hand, saw it quite differently. I don't recall the exact words he said, but what he conveyed to me was a truly wistful ambivalence. He explained that while this machine was a great step forward, it was also detrimental to manual laborers who counted on seasonal farm work for their survival. He acknowledged the necessity of technological advancement, but at the same time, he feared for the lost opportunities for the unskilled wroking man. Little did I know at the time how close this issue must truly have been to him. Looking at him in that picture, his brow furrowed in the oh so familiar scowl he wore when worried or tired. My dad knew what it was to work, and what it could mean to a man to lose the opportunity to provide for his family.