When I think about Chris Ray - by Caleb Pearson

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When I think about Chris Ray, I think about that goofy grin and all of the hilarious memories that he left us with. Behind that goofy grin, everyone knew there was a smart remark or some clever hilarious comment sure to come. Also, above that goofy grin was usually some out of the ordinary hat sitting amusingly on his head. Whether he had the infamous drunken captain’s hat on his head, or the undescribable straw hat he always wore on the beach, he always had that grin. Sitting here thinking about what to write, I have laughed out loud reminiscing about some of the old memories of him. There was just never a dull moment around Ray, and that is why everyone cherished him
I will never forget some of the funny memories that we all were so fortunate to share with Ray. I can think of infinite funny images of Ray that I will never forget. I can still see him now catching waves at the beach with a natty light can in one hand and that goofy hat on giving his sweet gnarley sign with his other hand. Or also him doing his “funky chicken remix” dance on the porch. He had this special way about him that made everyone laugh hysterically.
One thing I loved most about Chris was that he was the imitation king. He had this special knack for picking out distinct traits and tendencies that everyone had. He could imitate ANYONE with perfection, and have you laughing so hard about it that your abs would ache the next day. It is due to his impersonations that all of us talk the way we do when we are describing a story about one another. He was also the king of nicknames. We all have decided that he was the root of every single one of our nicknames. Whether it is Torpedo (Peter) Porter, Cookie Bain, Bunkins, Boose Ballard, 87, Buzz, Thwack, Tmack, Deever, J Butter, Been, Minute, Boob, Bulla, Kelvin, Hambone, Boney, and many more that I’m sure I’m forgetting.
Ray and I always had this little “John got mad” joke, where we would sit back and tap each other when John was heated about something. However, Ray always seemed to be able to foresee John getting mad about something well-before it happened. I will never forget the time when Davis Rose brought this mojo duck decoy into what John had described as possibly being the hunt of a lifetime. After John repeatedly told Davis not to bring the decoy into the duck hole, Davis still did. While they were walking ahead of Ray and I, Ray leaned over and whispered, “Caleb, watch how mad Johns going to get when this decoy ruins the hunt!” And to no surprise, Ray was right. Hundreds of ducks circled that hole that day and at most three decided to come in because of Davis’ handicapped mojo decoy. Ray kept looking at me grinning ear to ear after each group of ducks would almost come in and quickly turn back after seeing the decoy. We could just see the steam coming out of John’s ears, and Ray and I always found it funny to sit back and watch John’s temper flare. At the end of the hunt, John and Davis went through their routine verbal abuse of each other while Ray and I sat in amazement. After every clever comment made by either of the two, Ray would indiscreetly tap me with his foot or elbow with eagerness to hear the furious comebacks. Then on the trip home, just like after every time we ever got to witness the wrath of John, Ray would always come up with the FUNNIEST smart aleck remarks that would both add fuel to the fire but make John and I laugh uncontrollably. He always had this special knack for bringing light to bad situations. His comments that day were something like, “hey John, you think Davis’ decoy helped?” and “John, it’s no big deal it was only ten thousand ducks coming in!”
Ray seemed to look at everything in the most positive way possible. I will never forget the time, about two years ago, when I walked into Ray and John’s apartment at Radford almost in tears because I was going through a hard time. John and Ray are two that don’t except sadness in their apartment I quickly found out. Ray was the first person to sit me down and tell me, “Little Pearson, if you just go through life carefree like me, then you’ll never have anything to be sad about.” This seemed like a foreign idea to me; however I went with that advice for a little while and realized that Ray might be right! He then quickly introduced me to the ever so famous Fighting Cock whiskey which he was so well known for and said, “here ya go little Pearson, this is another little something that’ll fix anything.” Need not say more, that night turned out alright!

Everything Ray did was funny from the way he acted on our eventful beach trips(where Ray, being the only non-mongrel of the group, was the only person to not be part of a physical altercation that week) to even the way he turned double plays for SA baseball (haha all of his friends know the joke behind that one). Some of his funniest moments were him sitting in the end zone of the Raider football field (Bronco lights on high beam), cheering “obnoxiously” as John so perfectly put it. I will never forget running toward the end zone and Ray doing one of his custom made provocative dance moves behind the field goal post. Before I could even reach the end zone, he had me laughing hysterically. One thing that none of us will EVER forget is how proud Ray was of his ducktape chair that he so eloquently rigged at Myrtle beach during “fight week.” Every morning by eleven o’clock that week, Ray (sitting in his ducktape masterpiece) and Tyson would be out on the beach soaking up the sun, knocking down the beers. By the time everyone else got out there by around 1, the two of them already had good stories and imitations of every odd tourist they had seen that morning.
These are all some of my most memorable moments of Ray. However, just as everyone has said before me, every moment with Ray was a positive memory. He just always knew how to take any ordinary experience and turn it into a day to remember. I will always cherish my time I got to spend with him, and also the lessons I learned from his life.
Ray, I think about you with each and every day that passes and wish with all my heart that I could bring you back here with us. Life down here will never be the same without you around, but you left a great mark on my life. I love you man and know you’re in a better place. I also know that you are up there making everyone smile just as you did with us. Save us all a spot up there and keep a watch over us. You are already so dearly missed and hopefully the group will be reunited soon!

Christopher's Personal Statement - from Anne Ray

I was looking through my computer files for examples of personal statements for my seniors who are in the process of applying to schools. I came across Christopher's essay that he wrote for his college applications. I think a great fishing day on the Nottoway would probably be Chris's idea of heaven, and I hope that's just what he has found. The last two months have been a time for me to re-examine my faith. I'm not sure about anything, but I do know that Chris loved life, especially outdoor activities and being with his friends. I hope to write more later about my beloved child, but I thought maybe you would enjoy reading something that he wrote about five years ago.

The River -- My Home Away from Home

Move over, Huckleberry Finn! Like the famous fictional character I too have traveled "on the river". I have been very lucky in my life. I have grown up in a house that is closer than a mile away from the Nottoway River. Ever since I can remember I have been at the river. This river has been my main source for fishing, hunting, swimming, and social gatherings. I spend more time on the river than on any other activity.

I know every hole, stump, and sandbar in our stretch of river. This is because I grew up on this river. I started out with a Jon boat full of holes and a 1966 outboard motor. I began to fish everyday. It was my life and I loved it. Once my parents saw my love for fishing they decided to help me find a boat. My granddad had a twelve-foot Jon boat that he said I could have. So he loaded the boat up in the backup his pickup and brought it 450 miles from Georgia to me. I still use this same boat almost everyday.

I am for now and for all time a very avid fisherman. Even in the dead of winter I go fishing on the river. As I have grown so had my boat. I took a regular Jon boat and changed it into it into a well-oiled fishing machine. I have invested over a thousand self-earned dollars into my boat and I keep improving it. I have now officially become the fishing pro in my family. Now I am trying to spread my knowledge and enthusiasm to my younger brother and his friends.

Robert Frost says, "My object in living is to unite my avocation and my vocation as my two eyes make one in sight." To me, being able to work outdoors near a river would bring joy throughout my life. Whatever career path I take, I am sure to take many river journeys along the way. Radford's proximity to the New River as well as to an abundance of creeks and fishing holes appeals to the Huck Finn within me. With a river so close to school, I just might be able to stay "civilized" for four years.

Many Memories - by Robbie Ballard

I went to SA starting in kindergarten but I really remember Ray and his class starting in about the 3rd grade. When it came to break time my class would play football or kickball against the grade above us and Ray's class. I recall John and Ray doing this thing where thier whole class would run the bases when a person kicked that way there was know we could win. It was pretty funny to watch though. Once we got into middle school we all wanted to play football and we had to put our names on the helmets. I put "Da Bus" on mine because in lower school someone had said I was running over people like a bus when we played football at break. Little did I know that "Da Bus" would turn into what it did. I went out to practice my first day and Ray and John were giving me a hard time for it, all in good fun. Ray and John were like, "What does that say, Boose or something?" It was pretty funny when it happened and that made getting to know the people on the team easier because everyone knew me as Boose then. I learned from them if you can't laugh at yourself you are always going to be up tight and worried, so THANKS RAY for teaching me to laugh more. It was hard not to do around Ray. Without Ray and John there never would have been a Boose.

Ray and I played football and alot of baseball together throughout school. There are so many memories I have of him and they are all great. Ray looked out for his friends and family and was a great guy. Thanks for EVERYTHING Ray, the fishing tips(even though you never would say where you catch them all at), the jokes, and especially the friendship.

by Tyson McClenny

Ever since the site went up I’ve been trying to put together a little something that would tell a few of my favorite stories and reflect on some of my fondest memories with/of Ray. Right when I think I’ve summed up a couple of the thousand memories I have, another great memory pops into my head and puts me almost right back at step one. Like I’ve started out before, I can’t stop reiterating on the concept that if there’s one thing Chris did better than anyone else it was his inapt ability to look on bright side no matter what and make sure there was never a dull moment. Although I’ve got my own, I know we all have our memories of Chris that we won’t ever be able to forget, whether it was him executing one of his practical jokes, lightning the mood of a tense crowd (like he did so well), or just lending a helping hand to someone he barely knew.

I’d never really grown up hunting or fishing, but in the last few years Chris had asked me to come along with him a couple of times and I’d begun to develop a real fondness of the outdoors. Ray had found a new interest in bridge fishing if we didn’t feel like putting the boat in or the river wasn’t suitable for fishing. There was many an evening when we would head out right around dusk and bridge fish. Ray would always give me the best spot to fish on that bridge, but hardly ever did that translate into who caught the most fish. He always pulled in more than I did, that’s if he didn’t tangle up his newest glow in the dark bobber on the overhanging power line. He taught me 110% more about hunting and fishing than I ever knew and I hate that he won’t be here to fill me in anymore but I do know what he taught me I only hope I’ll be able to pass on. It will be impossible not to think about him for a minute come this deer season. We were really looking forward to the little time he’d be able to get off from the academy come this fall/winter. I’ll never forget that first buck of his we all tracked that night at Windy Hill (after he’d almost missed it all because he was listening to his ipod and had to shoot with his left hand, but who finds this surprising?!?!), all while JBB was telling him he better have fatally wounded that thing. Then there was the night we stayed out on the river fighting thunderstorms and hellacious mosquitoes, but like usual with him we did come back with some decent catfish. I’m sure all of us have countless memories just like mine but we will never forget the times spent fishing and hunting where even if we didn’t catch or shoot anything we sure had a damn good time because of Chris.

Some of my greatest memories were the times I would pull random surprises on Ray and John just by showing up without saying anything to join in on the countless memories that were undoubtedly in store. The most recent trip was definitely the most memorable. I was sitting at work miserable in my cubicle when I decided it was time to leave the job and head to the beach unannounced with Ray and all the guys for a week I knew no one would forget (they were all that way). Mom was a little upset and Anne Ray said I was stupid, but there’s nothing I wouldn’t give up to do it all again. I’ll never forget those six days spent sitting on the beach laughing, drinking, and living it up from the countless impersonations of the “Barksdales”, the Darius Rucker concert, the walk to the concert, our “signature” dance moves that countless people stole at the concert, to our “signature” dance moves that no one stole at Port O’ Call, the ferocious(ha) shark we caught and wanted to make a trophy piece but the “locals” decided for us it was better to throw back, the elevator we really didn’t break that week, the 16 year old girls that wanted you to buy them beer and never believed you wouldn’t do it because you were a cop, that wind blown skirt, the “I’m going to bed…” speech, your true alias… “Rack ‘Em” Ray chugging Malibu, drinking at the traditional surfing spot every time a fellow surfer went down, Kevin’s Horserace card game that Ray brought to life, “Mother Trucker” and “Aunty Scotty”…and I could sit here and keep going and going. Man, we really did have that much fun together.

Remember, you’re only young once so live free, and enjoy life for all it has to offer. Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone. Live without regret. If there’s one thing we knew and lived by that was it. The random college roadtrips, beach trips, fishing trips, weekend getaways, and summer vacations will never be forgotten nor will the memories created ever disappear but your spirit will surely carry on and I know if God’s plan was to take you away this early then each and every one of us couldn’t have asked for a better guardian angel upstairs to look down on all of us.

Then there was the time John and I had the pleasure of painting Ray’s “potment” in Capron and man…did we have fun with it. After working long, hot, countless hours John and I had finished and somehow we had missed quite a few spots and as Ray would say “John’s painting was smot, isn’t even a few smeared marks everywhere”, but I’m sure he said the same to John about my bedroom and living room painting. Chris being the type of guy he was made these types of situations funny to all of us. He fueled my comedic fire and I’m unquestionably now, a flame short.

Ray knew I didn’t have the most strenuous of jobs and he always would ask if I wanted to hang out after work, keep in mind this was usually after he got off at midnight. He was always ready to share a story and chill. I’d always be over there Sunday night to watch Entourage and if I wasn’t he’d DVR it with his sweet new Dish Network he loved. We were really looking forward to grabbing Direct Ticket when the NFL season rolled around so we could watch all the NFL games. I really miss those nights and won’t ever be able to stop thinking about what the future might have held with a true friend like Ray, but I know God has his plan and we’re all blessed to have one another to help cope.

Each day I wake up with half a feeling that he’ll be right back but then the other half of me knows he is gone. There are some people who can leave a life lasting impression on someone with only a 5 minute conversation and Ray was one of them. I could always go to him with a problem and even though the two of us might not be able to solve it, we could definitely make light of it, joke about it, have a beer and forget whatever was bothering us in that moment and that is a gift that very few possess. None the less, I know Ray sent that dog (Darby) to Cameron because he had given him hell about wanting to get a Golden Retriever, but I also have an inclination he sent it to me also as a message that as soon as he got up there he found Moonpie.

No matter what I say I don’t feel like my own words can adequately express my true feelings for someone so close to all of us. Like I’ve said before this song seems to say everything I could say into a couple of verses…

“My old friend, this song's for you

Cause a few simple verses

Was the least that I could do

To tell the world that you were here

Cause the love and the laughter

Will live on long after

All of the sadness and the tears

We'll meet again, my old friend”

-Tim McGraw “My Old Friend”

Over the last couple of days I have tried so hard to find a handful of stories that would exemplify his life and what he meant to all of us but the problem is that every moment spent with Ray was a story in itself. And I know I share this belief with a lot of others who knew Ray so well. No matter the circumstances, he made every person around him happier just by his presence alone. Many people can go a lifetime and not have as good/close of a friend as we all had in Chris. He was the funniest person a lot of us ever knew and the best friend any man could ask for. Truly great friends are hard to find, difficult to leave, and impossible to forget. Although Chris is gone, I think each of us can honestly say that we have something that he has left us with that we can hold on to and pass on to our next generation.

May the road rise to meet you,

May the wind be always at your back,

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

The rains fall soft upon your fields and,

Until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

I love you man, you’ll never be forgotten.

The Rookie - By Deputy Sheriff Donald Edwards

I remember when Chris did his internship at the Sheriff's Office. He was assigned to ride with me the majority of the time he was there. When I first met him we clicked right off which made things a lot easier for both of us. Even though there was a difference in age it was like we were brothers. That first summer I exposed him to a variety of things-- he got to see an exorcism, nudist community, and a lot of other things. Chris talked about going into the Coast Guard but I knew deep down he was going to be a Law Enforcement Officer. I just knew... When I found out that he was coming to work with us I was certainly glad of it.. I laughed to myself and said "I knew it, I knew it." I had the honor of being his FTO and we had a lot of fun together. I remember he had bought this little flashlight and I asked him "What the hell are you going to do with that?" We both laughed.. I took him to Parker Battery and showed him what light he needed and he bought it..He was so excited and I was excited for him. He reminded me of how I was when I was a rookie (by the way that's what we called him). Chris brought a lot of happiness and energy to work with him and that has made me into a better person.. I miss you buddy very much but I know you are right there watching over each of us.

Ray at IHOP - story 1 of 1,000,000

Although I have said I do not have one Ray story that would adequately describe him, I do however have A LOT of Ray stories that fall a little short of appropriate and that he’d probably prefer me not to tell (actually he would probably say “keer”), but anyway, as the days, weeks, and months pass I am going to tell them as they come to me and hopefully put a smile on some of your faces.
When I got up this morning, as I do every morning, I checked his facebook and then the blog hoping for a new story, but mainly just to see his face in some old pictures. However my yearning to see his face this morning was not as profound as usual - I had seen it all night in my dreams. As we sat together on a deck at the beach, we talked as I cried and held him in my arms wanting to never let go. Although he held me and told me everything was going to be okay, he never stopped with the jokes. I remember laughing through my tears as if he were actually there. He was taking the situation lightly, as we know he would.
When I woke up I was happier than I have been since the accident. And although I know this was just a dream, I actually believe that he was with me last night and wants me to tell some of the funny stories and make everyone laugh the way he would be doing if he were here.
So here goes: Last year at school we had been out drinking for like four nights straight. I think it was Halloween weekend and it started on Wed or Thurs and went through Sat.
Needless to say by Sunday a.m. we were struggling. Ray promised me like sat night if I did something stupid he would take me to IHOP on Sunday morning to refuel the bushel….what a treat. Well Sunday morning turned into Sunday at about 1:00pm when we finally got up. However Sunday at 1:00pm is not only breakfast time for alcoholics, but also lunch time for church goers. So here I am hung-over with a Ray who at this point is still drunk surrounded by SW Virginia church goers in an IHOP that serves only food I don’t eat, wow.
We get a seat beside two lovely black ladies who have just left church, and by beside, I mean like 3 feet apart. One is in her 50’s and the other is the mother so she is probably in her 70’s or 80’s. Immediately Ray says something completely inappropriate and I’m looking at him like dude shut up. Well of course once he saw that I was getting embarrassed, it was on. He never let up the whole breakfast, saying every single vulgar and profane word in the most common way possible. You should have seen the ladies. Oh my God it was so funny. They couldn’t even eat their lunch they were so disturbed. Eventually I was in stitches, laughing so hard I had to get up and go outside to get myself together. The picture below is EXACTLY the kind of face he was making as he relished in his inappropriateness.



I know this is one of those ‘had to be there’ stories, but for Ken, Anne, Cameron and Kevin, or anyone else who has sat down at the Ray’s dinner table for a family dinner, you can imagine.

Only Ray could make someone love eating gross food hung-over in a gross restaurant filled with gross people.

The Best Guy I Have Ever Known - by Daniel Vinson

Not a day goes by, not an hour passes, without me thinking about Chris Ray. He greatly impacted my life; I have so much that I want to say about him, but it’s as if the appropriate words escape me. I feel a certain inadequacy in writing this because I can’t possibly express my feelings for Ray. He meant so much to me and to so many others. Like so many of us, I have a lifetime of memories with him. Over the past weeks, these memories have run though my mind constantly, many of which I have not thought about in years. The strange thing is that the ordinary, seemingly forgettable times I spent with Chris are what I cherish the most about my friendship with him.

I realize that this has been said before, but it can’t be said enough, there is no one story that anyone could tell about Chris that could explain how special he was to everyone who knew him. When Chris was around, everything became a story. I know that the friends I have made in Georgia over the past few years have gotten tired of being constantly inundated with my stories from Southampton County, every one of which involved Ray. By the time he came to Athens to visit for the first time last fall, my friends, many of whom had never met him, already felt like they knew him. They quickly figured out what we all know so well, that Chris Ray made every situation a better one. He made everything more fun and enjoyable for everyone present.

Sitting down and remembering all of the times I spent with Chris got me thinking. I tried to remember the first time I met him. The truth is that I can’t remember. It could have only happened in one of two places, either the first day of kindergarten at the Academy, or the first day of Courtland Baseball. I honestly don’t know which came first. Every memory I have about Southampton County, about Shands, and about Home, he is in it.

Trying to write something like this about Chris Ray is problematic. The problem is that over the years, Chris Ray somehow became a part of me, and his memory will always be a part of me. I have so much that I can and want to say about him. But if I sat here and wrote all that I wanted this would never end. So, here is my best shot.

Everyone that knew Ray knows how great of a sense of humor he had. He loved a good story, especially if he was telling it. I feel it’s only appropriate that I share one of the stories he would often tell, where I was the butt of the joke. According to Christopher, I have a tendency to “breach.” During the spring of our sophomore year of high school, we went on the Academy’s Europe trip to Italy and Switzerland. I spent the whole trip rooming with Chris. From the time we stepped foot off of the plane until we left, Ray saw too it that he had a bottle of Jack Daniels in his book bag at all times. One night when we were in Switzerland, I came back to our room and found him asleep in his bed. I took it upon myself to have a few drinks of his whiskey. Soon, Mrs. Ray was banging on our door. She found the liquor and took it. From then on, Ray swore up and down that I had ratted him out and I became known as the “breacher.”

Another thing everyone who knew Ray knew about him was that he would go out of his way to do anything for his friends. I don’t hunt or fish very often, but Ray would take me with him anytime I wanted to go. The only times that I have hunted during the past few years have been with him. We went duck hunting several times. He always insisted that I use his good pair of waders and he took the ones that leaked. So while we were out there in the wee hours of winter mornings, I was warm, well at least as warm as I could be, and he was freezing. That’s just the type of person he was.

Ray also had a tendency to make light of any situation. We were fishing in the Nottaway one summer, and we could see a storm approaching. We decided that we could wait it out on the shore, underneath a tree. It turned out to be the craziest storm I had ever seen. Lightning was crashing all around us, and I was freaking out. I looked at Ray, and it was obvious that he was thinking the same thing I was, something bad is about to happen. Then he said, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, it ain’t nothing but a little squall.” Then and there, in the midst of a hurricane like storm, we both started laughing uncontrollably, and we did not stop until the storm had passed.

Out of all the time I spent with him, there is one memory about Chris Ray that will always stick with me. At the end of this past summer, I was riding back from Nags Head with him. Nothing out of the ordinary happened on our way back, but that’s just it. It was an average, run-of-the-mill trip with Ray. We never stopped laughing. That is how I will always remember him. Chris had the uncanny gift of being able to make everyone laugh and to make everyone happier. I, like so many others, miss him unbelievably. I do my best not to cry when I think of him, but I can’t help it. All I can do is feel blessed for the time God gave him to us.

We love you Ray, and we will always miss you. I know that you are our Angel watching over all of us now, and we will be with you again.

- Daniel Vinson

Christopher Ray - by Megan Marks

I don’t even know where to begin when it comes down to talking about Christopher Ray. He was truly one of my best friends and has been for my entire life. I was sitting in my room the other day looking through pictures that I had shoved in every little nook in my room and found some of the greatest ones of John, Christopher and myself. It all started with the pool party at James and Joe Kametz’s house. We were probably in first grade and in the picture was of course John, Christopher, Miles, Adam Darden, Jessica, Callie, etc.….all of the old gang from lower school. It was a great memory, but the thing I remember most about that day was when Christopher and John made James and Joe so angry that Mrs. Kametz threw them out of the pool party….not an unfamiliar occurrence.  

The second picture I came across was when Christopher had his bleached blonde hair and John still had his mole. It was our first homecoming dance, John was my date and Jessica Vinson was Christopher’s. We were all typical middle schoolers, I was ten feet taller than John and Christopher was so skinny that his belt bunched up his kaki pants. It was one of the funniest moments of my life just looking back at that time when we were all in what I call our “IT” stage….gosh it was awful.  

The last couple pictures that I found of Christopher and I were the ones that meant the most. When we were in high school, I would bring my camera to school to capture some of the memories at SA, but in capturing them, Christopher Ray seemed to be the common theme. He was never embarrassed to sit down and take a picture with me. If that was what I wanted, he would do it in a heart beat. As I have told people, Christopher and I were the friends that could try dating for a day, just to see if we had a connection, then once the next day came around we would look at each other and say, “please don’t tell anyone we did this” and still be as close, if not closer than we were before.

At Southampton Academy, I was the only girl from pre-k through 12 grade who stayed with those crazy boys. Maybe I was insane, but I loved them with all my heart. They have pretty much been what my life has evolved around for 15+ years. Yes, I would get sooo frustrated with them at times, but having Christopher and John as my friends made it all worth the ride. They are my closest friends who possess a huge place in my heart. And now even though Christopher isn’t here walking with us, he is in all of our hearts and I truly believe that.  

John and Christopher had a bond that goes way beyond brotherhood. Never in my life have seen two people spend every waking hour with each other and enjoy every minute. They were two peas in a pod. Growing up with these two, has been a part of my life I will cherish forever. There is not one memory I have of Christopher where John wasn’t right beside him…and that’s been a heck of a long time. I remember Santa clause trips, river trips, Edith’s house, pool parties at Windy Hill, ski trips…and I could go on forever. Whenever I participated in any activity with one, the other would be right there. They treasured each others companionship and worked great as a team. I only wish my children one day will have as close a bond with someone as John and Christopher had and will always have.

In the past year I had seen a side of Christopher which I had never seen before. He was finally happy with the life he was leading. He loved being in Southampton County and along with being close to his family, he was branching out to live in his home in Capron. Every time I came home, we would sit up in his garage and he would tell me about all the cool adventures he had been a part of with the Southampton County police department. I had never seen someone so devoted and passionate about their job. He was truly happy with his life and that made my heart so happy for him. Christopher deserved only the best.

Christopher, as people have stated in other stories, was the most genuine person I have ever known. He was always that friend who told me to “come on, who cares if your invited or not,” or “MELV, we are best friends, it doesn’t matter.” He would always be the first person I would call when I came home. Christopher would make any situation better. Even though he definitely has a mischievous side to his brain, his sweet side overtook.  

The last thing I will say is, I had a dream a couple nights ago that touched my heart like something I have never felt. In the dream it was Christopher, John, Daniel Vinson and I and we were at this festival. Well the next thing I know, Christopher was telling all of us that it was ok and he had to go. He also told us that he was perfectly happy and he would see us one day, but not to worry. The last thing I remember was Christopher giving John the biggest hug then he walked into the distance. I don’t know if this dream was Christopher sending me a message, but it’s kind of hard to believe it was just a random dream.  

I miss Christopher with all my heart as well as everyone, but we will see him again. I have no doubt in my mind.

By Megan Simpkins

I have spent countless hours sitting in front of my computer, just trying to think of where to start or even what to say, but nothing I write has seemed good enough or even worthy of Chris or how I feel about him… but in the back of my mind I can hear him saying “get the chuck on wit it”, so I guess the best way to start is to state the painfully obvious fact that I miss him so much.

Chris was my favorite person in the whole world. From the night I first met him, October 2, 2007, I was madly in love with him. The very next day he took me on our first date… to Wal-Mart. There he bought me a fishing pole (the “blue bomber”) then drove me to Parrott, VA where we spent the afternoon on his infamous John Boat not catching a darn thing. Nothing was ever awkward between us, it was like we had known each other for our entire lives; and ever since that most redneck first date I had ever experienced, we became inseparable… I have never spent so much time with one person in my entire life than in the short two years I knew Chris; and in our short years together, he understood me more than even my own family did... the connection was stronger than anything I have ever experienced.

We spent the majority of our time together hibernating in his room, neglecting John’s warning about getting bedsores… because being together was way more important than socializing with anyone else or even going to class (sorry parents). One day that summer, we spent 12 straight hours in his room watching LOST… it breaks my heart knowing that he wont ever get to know what the heck is actually going on in that stupid show.  But this past spring tops it off… when we spent a disgusting 18 continuous hours watching season after season of The Sopranos, after which I had to deal with him only making spaghetti for dinner and repeating Tony Sopranos famous words: “capish” and “madonn” for a whole week.

But besides wallowing our days away, the most important and special thing about me and Chris’s relationship was that we learned so much from each other. Chris taught me a whole new life outside of home. I learned how to fish, appreciate country music, experienced the small town life, had my first taste of delicious Brunswick Stew, became a fluent speaker of the “chuckin language,” went four wheeling through swamps, and to everyone’s surprise, I even went hunting. But Chris never let an opportunity go where he could make fun of me for being from northern Virginia… saying, “I get you half right then you go back home and get all nova on me”.  But as much as he would hate to admit it, he liked it. The first time he came to visit me, I took him on his first metro ride and he was completely astonished by all the people, cars and city life… it was absolutely adorable.  Although we came from different worlds, I guess that proves the saying “Opposites attract.”

Its hard to pick just one Christopher story to tell, since they are all the best, but guess ill share the most recent one. The last time I saw Chris was in August, when I visited him on my way down to Nags Head. I was so excited to check out his new house, but the first thing he had to show me was his bathroom. I thought going in there that it must be pretty fancy for him to be THAT excited to show me it, but it was not… he was just in love with his toilet because it was cushioned. He said, “I always told Anne I wanted a cushioned toilet seat and now I finally got one! Every king deserves a nice comfy padded seat for takin dumps.” It was the little things in life that made him the happiest… and that’s why I loved him so much.

Although I no longer get the daily phone call or texts about the stupid little things that happened during his day or about the awesome police call he had the night before, I know he is still around, protecting me like he always did. Literally not a minute goes by that I don’t think about him or sleep a night without dreaming about him and it is a continuous struggle to go through a whole day without shedding a tear for him… but he always said, “don’t cry lil Moonpie, your ugly when you cry”, so that makes it a little easier.  Everywhere I go and everything I do reminds me of him. And is presence is still all around me... literally... like:

-his flask, which still has some Henry McKenna left it in it…which is a complete surprise, since we all know he never let even a drop of alcohol go to waste

-a Sherriff Vernie Francis ballpoint pen with his bite marks all over the cap, showing signs of pure boredom in class

-and my favorite of all: his dresser, which makes all of my clothes inside smell like him…. But outside of material things, what’s most important is that he made Radford my home because to me, he was home. Towards the end of the summer I used to complain to him about how much school was going to suck without him and how lonely I was going to be, but he always promised to visit as much as he could… I can never thank him enough for making me feel comfortable in a place where I hardly knew anyone, 4 hours away from the only place I knew and was used to.

He was my better half and I wont ever be whole again because he had my left side (where the heart is)…but because of him, I am a better person and live my days now striving to be just as amazing and giving as he was.  We used to always joke on the girls that said or had stupid quotes posted up everywhere, but “it’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all” has a completely new and truthful meaning to me now.  I would be a totally different person today if I had never met Christopher. Because of him, I now know the meaning of life, friendship, happiness and most importantly, what it is to love.

I will love you and miss you forever Christopher Darby Ray… (Peaches, Officer Williams, Trixie, Lloyd Muffet, Ol Raystopher, Slop Masta C) and forever’s a mighty long time.

-Megan Lee, your Moonpie, Lady B, Lil Bit

 

My Buddy Ray Boy - by Ben Lane

Chris Ray. All of us have fond memories of you. I got to share some of my most memorable moments on this earth with you. I don’t really know where to start dude. I think I’ll start with the one at Johnny B’s known as “Windy Hill Woodstock”. HAHA. God we got “wold” that evening. You told me that night when I graduated fire academy that you would throw me a rager at the farm but I never asked you to do so because nothing ever would have topped that party off. If it weren’t for you and your skills of getting a crowd all worked up, it may have possibly failed miserably. Everything about you was funny, regardless of what was going on. The day we got caught in the rain on the greater nottaway and sat under the bridge for 3 hours…yea. Anyone else would have been ready to go, but you and I sat right there and drank natty’s and pretended we were the homeless guys on MTV crates (Mack C The Pimp) and laughed hysterically. By the way, big mama white is still probably swimmin’ round. This day of monsoon like rains was when me and you discovered the power of “little Syd’s”. With every sip we were coming up with genius ideas on how to catch those sketchy gar. It definitely didn’t work, but we ain’t care. We were having a good time.

We had many a good time in the woods and in the swamps. The day we went squirrel bustin’ and I introduced you to nest shaking was very memorable. One orange stack cap, a double barrel .410, one coors light, and three squirrels. How dude? Beer in one hand, a gun in the other with only two shots and you strike three bushy tails. You definitely were the man that day.



Then on to a duck huntin’ story.(when 87 reads this one, he will laugh uncontrollably) We all were bored one evening sitting around trying to think of something to do. So john says “let’s call D Boone and see if he has any greenheads we can spank”. So I get ole Daniel Boone on the phone and asked him about a hole and about how many was there. In these exact words” yea man…gotta right decent hole on back in the woods. Got bout a thhoouuusssaannnddd mallards in it”. God you gave him so much hell until that sun went down and it definitely was about that many in there.27 down.

Enough with the older stories now I guess because I’m getting my keyboard wet. I want to share the story Chris and I put in the books the last day he was with us. So I’m going to tell it from beginning to end.

…Thursday night I sat on the phone with Ray for about 30 minutes listening to him tell me about his gar rig that was going to catch em for sure. I told him I’d meet him at the boat landing as soon as I got off. So I laid in bed that at work anxious to go fishing with my buddy the next day. After about 5 EMS calls and 3 fire alarms I finally got some sleep. I got off about 7:45 and rushed home to change clothes and get my fishing stuff. I stopped at DQ and got us a biscuit and drove down to the Cypress Bridge Boat Landing. I was walking down to the boat and there he was, standing in the back of that 12 foot jon boat holding two bottles of “Little Syd’s” grapefruit and gin trying to say something, but I couldn’t hear him over that ghetto blaster pumping out 106.9 the fox. We set out up river and stopped at the hole. With a good four rods hangin’ out of the boat we were sure to catch em. Then all of a sudden while I was trying to rig something up, you get to hollering. I knew you had something nice on line so I get the net. Low and behold, you pull up the nastiest looking black fish I’ve had ever seen. You said “jammin, don’t you put that damn blackfee in this boat” and I told you to shut the chuck up and lets land his ass. We definitely did. That fish beat the hell out of me in the boat but we fixed that. Hung his ugly self off the side with ken’s bungee strap. Then we took off up river and ran into some shallow waters but I had no worries because I knew I was with the “Captain”. We started wading, pulling the boat thru sometimes 2-4 inches of water and sometimes even dry land. We gave up on the gar and blackfish and started fishin’ for bass and teddy bleme’s. By the time we got to the narrow’s, I bet we had had caught fifty bass and just as many bream. By far the best day I’d ever had on the river in my life. We headed on up river draggin’ the boat along talking about what we were going to do with our lives in the years to come as we fished along. We talked of how we were going to be like two old men sitting around flowers store in the mornings and sitting on the porch in the evenings drinking cold beer, then going to bed extremely early, just to get up and do it again the next day. We talked about buying homes and I told him I won’t gonna live anywhere unless it had at least two bedrooms, that way he could stay. And then as we got back in the boat he hollered across that motor and the ghetto blaster and said to me, “jammin’, you can tell our grandkids that Chris Ray is the navigatinest motha trucka on the nottaway riva”. I will never forget that. We made it to Shands boat landing and with the help of Cameron, we got his truck from cypress bridge and loaded up the boat and headed back to Wyanoke Lane. I took the blackfee to Dail’s, got the fish weighed and measured(10.2 Lbs, 33”) and got the ciatation paperwork filled out and called him to tell him the good news…

The story I just told is a story most people would talk bout for days on end. To me, this is a chapter of my life. A chapter that I will cherish for the rest of my life and this chapter my friend will be read and told to everyone. I wanna sit around like we talked about and tell this story years from now. I want my children to know who Chris Ray was and when my god son Ashton is old enough I will start with him. We also spoke of when the day came that either of us got married that it would be the wildest reception ever. You’re damn right. But buddy, the woman I find to marry is gonna have to deal with the fact that when I’m standing at that altar getting ready to say those words, there is gonna be a empty space right in between Andrew and Daniel Boone, along with John and a few others. Because I know you’ll be there in spirit and I want you standing right there beside me.

Well here I am, just getting home from cutting the old loop we used to cut and my ears hurt from listenin to the fox at max volume. Harris rd, Vicksville to Unity, on around to Tucker swamp, past the dick tree on to Clayton, back around to Drake on back to the home stretch. I had a decent Old Forester drink for you this evening and will continue to cheers to you like old times. Me,You and a somewhat endless supply of ice cold Natty Patty’s, wouldn’t have it any other way brotha. Keep us all safe as you watch over us. I can go through life now having no fear because I know you’ll be there holding my hand leading me through whatever life throws my way. Being in the public service just as you were, please watch close over me when it gets to be “Go Time” because you know how I am when it comes down to it. I’ll be right up in the thick of things, hottest fires, smokiest buildings and the most ghetto EMS calls imaginable. LOL. Ray I love you with all of my heart just as you were my brother and I miss you so very much.

P.S.
I promised big Ken that I’d take Cameron and Kevin fishing. Hook us up with some sweet fish and look out for us on the waters and in the woods. I’ll take good care of the 12 ft jon and be sure to fill the back full of beer cans every time I go just as we did.

As I sit here thinking of Christopher Darby - by Ashley Marie Martin

As I sit here thinking about Christopher Darby... I am reminded of all he has done for me.  He was my first true love.  Everything makes me think of him… everything.  When I think of Chris, I think of his many stages of shaggy hair or lack thereof, big brown eyes (that helped him get away with anything), and endearing smile.  We absolutely loved being around each other.  Every minute we had together I will treasure for the rest of my life.

Chris and I would often venture out to big ole Norfolk for dates, when we got sick of Applebee’s or Los Amigos, haha. I am reminded of many times we got lost together… one not long ago.  We went ice-skating this past Christmas at Macarthur Mall, and somehow we got lost on the way home.  If you know my sense of direction, this is not an uncommon occurrence.  So, somewhere off our wrong turn, we saw a sign for the Christmas lights on the boardwalk, and he said, “Well what the hell, let’s go see the Christmas lights.”  And so we did.  Chris wasn’t the type to get angry in situations like this; he made the best out of every situation.  We were together a long time, and to this day, I don’t think I have ever seen him angry.   Chris was the most thoughtful, caring, and genuine person I will ever meet.  I know this may surprise some people, but Chris did have an incredibly sweet side.  I remember when we first started dating :  he deejayed at Middle School Madness and I chaperoned for Leader’s Club.  As soon as I saw Chris Ray was deejaying, you couldn’t have dragged me away from Middle School Madness on a Friday night (haha).  Now that I look back, that sounds somewhat pathetic.  But there was something about him, I was drawn to him.  We ended up talking a lot during this time and at sometime Christopher began asking me to dance while he was working.  I thought this was absolutely adorable.   He would even dedicate songs to me (usually George Strait ); I loved how fearless he was and he never found anything embarrassing.  I don’t know another teenage boy who would have done this just to make me happy.  But he did, he always made me so happy.

I learned so much from Chris.  He showed me how to live life to the fullest, and he would do absolutely anything for his friends.   One thing I know is Chris loved his friends.  John and I learned to share ;)  I have never seen two friends with a stronger bond than those two.   Whether they were in the Ray’s garage aka “Chris’s pad”, singing “Curtis Lowe” and “Redneck Yacht Club” or at Windy Hill rocking the sailor hat, let me tell you something, those Academy kids know how to have a good time!  And Chris was usually the ringleader!

Chris was extremely close with his family and my family.  We were always either at his house or mine, and he became part of the family.  The Ray’s welcomed me in and I love them as my family too.  At the many Ray family dinners I attended, I can’t help but bring up Cameron and Kevin’s little cat fights.  Chris would usually just sit adding comments here and there to coax the argument further.  He always made me laugh and eventually would make Kevin and Cameron laugh as they realized he was the main reason they were fighting.  Ken and Anne would usually just shake their heads, trying not to break into a smile.  With Chris around, there was never a dull moment.  Although he may have driven his mama crazy, I often remember him teasing with her and giving her a kiss on the forehead before we would head out for the night.  One thing I remember Chris telling me was how much he loved and wanted to live by Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Simple Kind of Man”.  For some reason I feel compelled to share the lyrics here.

Mama told me, when I was young

Come site beside me, my only son

And listen closely, to what to say.

And if you do this

It will help you some sunny day.

Ohh take your time... Don't live too fast,

Troubles will come, and they will pass.

Go find a woman and you'll find love,

And don't forget son,

There is someone up above.

And be a simple kind of man.

And maybe some day you'll love and understand.

Baby be a simple kind of man.

Won't you do this for me son,

If you can?

Forget your lust for the rich man's gold

All that you need is in your soul,

And you can do this if you try.

All that I want for you my son,

Is to be satisfied.

Boy, don't you worry... you'll find yourself.

Follow you heart and nothing else.

And you can do this if you try.

All I want for you my son,

Is to be satisfied.  

He lived his life to the fullest and made everyone around him light up.  He brought out the best in people and only wanted the best for everyone in his life.  Although we all can’t help but grieve, I know for a fact Chris hates to see people cry.  He would want us all to remember him as the happy go lucky, “life of the party” that he was.  I still can’t believe such a tragedy happened to one of the most important people in my life, but we will all keep his memory in our hearts.  I will never be able to listen to another George Strait song without hysterically crying but I am “carrying your love with me” Darby and we all miss you so much.

- Ashley Marie 

Some of my most Favorive memories of Christopher - By Esther Francis

As I sit here thinking of all the memories I have of Christopher and John growing up I cannot fathom how to put them into words and have them expressed in just a few short paragraphs. I am not the best with words and writing so this will be short, although with all of my love and memories I could write for days. In the weeks following the accident it has been through my Faith that I have found comfort, comfort in knowing that Christopher is okay, comfort in knowing that he is with his grandfathers, Benny, and Charles, and comfort knowing he and John will someday meet again, crack a few jokes, and spend eternity making up for lost time. My Faith also has me believe that he is watching over us, protecting and listening. And I pray that in the following paragraphs as I share my most fond memories of him that somewhere he too is listening and smiling that crooked innocent smile remembering the good times as we are right now.

The memories began the first time Christopher and Kevin ever came to Windy Hill to play with John; they were in kindergarten I think, an age that after hearing this story might have you question my supervision skills. I was in the house and heard the kids come running inside, Kevin and John were crying, John’s was fake, and Kevin’s was real, Christopher was just staring at me with a look on his face like to say, “Idiots”. Come to find out, John had shot Kevin with the BB gun, Kevin said it hurt, so to prove it didn’t John shot himself. So there I was, keeping Ken and Anne’s children for the first time and one of them had been shot and the other probably traumatized. I quickly loaded up the boys and took them home wondering what I would tell Ken and Anne. While in car I said, “Oh Lord, your parents will probably never let you come back”, and Kevin quickly reassured me, “You’re probably right Mrs. Barksdale.” This became a joke Christopher and I would never let die. I know as he thinks about it now it puts a smile on his face.

Needless to say, Kevin was wrong, and Christopher returned to Windy Hill and I began to watch him and John grow up together. In the early years I can remember their favorite thing to do was to pump hundreds of gallons of water throughout the day into Jamie’s crop creating a network of rivers, rapids, and waterfalls that they called ‘Waterworks’. I do not know how or what made them do it, but just like everything else they did together, it was understood by the two of them and no one else mattered. Whatever it was they were doing out there, they loved it. As I think about Christopher today I can see him sitting out there in the mud, smiling and laughing as if it were just yesterday.

Although they sat in the mud and played ‘Waterworks’ every day in the summer together, when it came time for vacation they certainty weren’t ready for a break from each other. Christopher went to the beach with us every summer for one or two weeks. How they didn’t get tired of each other I do not know. Whether it was finding them curled up in a bed together that one of them had wet or riding two-seater Go-karts when one-seaters were readily available, they were inseparable - which reminds me of another one of my favorite memories of Christopher at the Go-karts. Warren Beale had taken John and Christopher to the Go-karts and for some reason Christopher grabbed the muffler and burnt his hand pretty badly. He came home teary eyed looking for comfort. Unfortunately he told Charles exactly what had happened, leading to Charles’ heartwarming “Are you stupid?” response. Christopher immediately burst into tears and spent the rest of the afternoon moping around the cottage. In recent years when Christopher and John would come home from school and have dinner with me and Vernie, we would often tell this story and laugh about Charles’ dry sense of humor and how much we missed him. I bet Charles is giving him hell about it right now saying, “Son, why would you grab a hot muffler?”

But Christopher if you’re listening I have saved my most favorite memory for last. After Benny passed, John and I would only stay at Windy Hill alone if Christopher was there. Why? I do not know. For some reason this lanky, one hundred and six pound 7th grader was going to protect us from any outside danger. But as strange as it sounds, he did. So like clockwork on Friday afternoons I would pick up John and Christopher from their baseball game and we would head to Windy Hill for the weekend. On Saturday mornings I would cook them breakfast and especially for Christopher I would make hand squeezed orange juice. I thought it was his absolute favorite and the least I could do considering he was ‘protecting’ Windy Hill. I would tell him the night before, “I bought fresh oranges today!” And he would smile and say, “Thank you Mrs. Barksdale, I cannot wait.” However, what I didn’t know was that Christopher hated the orange juice. John knew he didn’t like it and to mess with him had told me how Christopher loved it. Christopher being too sweet to tell me otherwise spent most likely four or five years of his adolescent life drinking pulp filled orange juice that he hated every weekend for breakfast with a smile on his face. Finally one day many years later I made the orange juice again for the boys and they began hysterically laughing. John broke down and told me the whole story and how long it had been going on. They were something else when they were together and I sure am going to miss it.

Christopher was one of the most unique and lovable people I have ever had to chance to meet. I could tell stories of fond and funny memories all day because each moment I spent with him left a lasting impression in my heart. I loved him as a son and will mourn his death for years to come. Losing him so tragically has at times caused me to question my Faith, but I know in my heart God has taken him home and he is in a much better place. So until we meet again Christopher, keep an eye out for John and don’t let him do anything you wouldn’t have him do.  I love and miss you, your second mom, Mrs. Barksdale.

My favorite Ray story

Over the past month I have endured the most tragic loss of my life - the one of not just a best friend, companion, or brother, but instead a loss within myself. With all tragic losses comes pain and grief, but somehow I find this different; you meant so much to me and my life that I feel as if my heart has been torn out and filled with emptiness. Every day I find myself in a situation where I have to say, "Yeah, me and Ray did that ... ", regardless of the conversation or what it’s about. I don't know anything in my life that I have enjoyed or accomplished that does not directly involve you or your support. Since the accident everyone keeps telling me how we were like 'an old married couple', but what they don't understand is that unlike old married couples, we absolutely LOVED being with each other. All you have to do is look at my foot print on your dashboard to tell that. As gay as it sounds, how many times have people heard us say, "If Ray was girl, I'd marry him" or “I love 87”. And although I knew we weren’t going to get married, I still cannot imagine getting married without you standing beside me as my best man, or being in the waiting room when I have your first godchild. And speaking of which, I haven’t decided on a name yet, but Christopher Darby is a front runner.

Since the accident I have been asked to tell funny stories about your life and things we did together, the purpose of this blog. Surprisingly however, I find it very difficult to think of any one story that would adequately portray who you were. You would think I would have millions of stories but the problem is my whole life is a story about you. From the first night we spent together at Windy Hill you have been my rock.

In lower school you made me stop clinging to Mom's hood and actually made me look forward to going to school. In the fourth grade when my dad passed, to everyone’s surprise I bounced right back. Why? Because from 8am till dark you made me the happiest a kid could be, laughing till my sides hurt. In middle school, I became the "bully", a title you heavily contributed to me earning. At your funeral Alex Vick said to me, "You know, yall used to pick on me in middle school, right?” I just kind of smiled and nodded but knew she didn’t have to worry anymore because you were gone, and without you, the jokes are gone too.

It was also those middle school years when you taught me how to fish - the beginning of a recently ended era. As much as everyone thought of “John and Ray, the river fishing masters”, I must admit from the time we had that six foot leaking jon boat that had to be paddled up and down the river, you were the Captain. As we entered high school you fell in love with girls, and I was determined to get my boyfriend back. I spent the next couple years trying to make you not such a lover, while you spent them hiding from me in garage, doing what Cameron does now. .. haha :) But unlike most friendships that live and die, we never went ONE day without talking and laughing.


Senior year I was once again faced with death when Charles died. Like always, you never left my side and helped me bounce right back. He passed during football season and the pain of having to play each game without him there was almost overwhelming, but you in the end zone drinking liquor, hooping, hollering, and blinding the refs with your Bronco headlights was just enough to keep me going. Nothing made me as happy as when we would get down near the end zone and I would hit somebody, not so we could win or force a turnover, but just so I could get up and watch you obnoxiously celebrate as if you had done it yourself. After graduation, where we wore flip flops and you talked ‘Double D J.’ into letting it happen, you went to Radford, and me, HSC.

After freshman year I can remember everyone telling me how terrible my decision to stay home would be and how much I needed to go back to HSC. But like always you didn't say that. I can remember the day I had to make the crucial decision, I called you with my normal, "Dudddeee, what do I do?". You said, "Do what’s best for you. Go to Paul D. and move in with me in Radford next year. Everything will be fine." And so I did, one the best decisions of my life ... because of you. Over the next year we would become roommates and even closer than ever before. After I moved to Blacksburg we didn’t know what to do with ourselves - 45 minute cell phone chats daily, weekend cookouts every Friday night, and Facebook rants about nothing all time. But since we didn’t get to see each other as much as we would have liked, we decided a solo trip down to Fla. for spring break was exactly what we needed. You were short on funds so I made a spreadsheet that made the trip look official. Little did they know, we fished for half the time we portrayed in the spreadsheet, and took the rest of the cash to Daytona. "You’re wild." However, while at Daytona instead of chasing women and going to MTV beach parties, we sat on the beach side by side, drank, and laughed hysterically at people and stupid stories alllll day. ... Remember the "Hot Lesbian Theory"? hahahaa God your stupid.


During this past summer you worked and loved every second of it. While on your days off we would go to the beach. Remember your "Top 10 Things Not To Do While Becoming a Sheriff's Deputy" list? haha I think you did em all buddy. I had so much fun this summer, I even drove six hours and skipped my first day of summer school just because you called me and said "come". After I went back to summer school and you moved into the ‘putment’ that T and I so eloquently painted over the summer, we didn't see each other as much, but the daily calls became more like 4 a day calls. The Tuesday before the accident when Meredith was gone to Mississippi we laid in bed and talked for ..... I’m embarrassed to say ... 2 1/2 hours. I can remember being curled up in my bed holding my sides laughing so hard, about nothing, just listening to you. The day of the accident, you called me so many times lying about that sub-par blackfish I had to tell you to shut up. It wasn’t even that big dude. Not to mention, you told Jammin’ about the secret blackfee hole. And to top things off that would be last picture you would take and become the front page of the Tidewater News - Ray with a big nasty blackfish. Atta boy. Real Classy. And lastly, two hours before the wreck you wrote on my facebook “Tommy Bahama”. I never got a chance to tell you, but I loled.

So here I am, at Tech, because you were at Radford, doing Building Construction, because me and you built forts and jon boats, in a one bedroom apartment, because after living with you I realized it was actually impossible for me to live with anyone and enjoy it, listening to music through your speakers with your old iPod, and ironically wearing a pair of your socks. So from now on when I am asked for a good “Ray Story”, the one I’m going to tell is the one you coauthored, the story of my life.
So until we meet again, thank you so much for everything. I love you. And PS, how about getting a boat ready because when I get there, me and you are going to the river.