My little brother Ray, who died in 2001, was born in '61. Smart, funny, extremely creative. But wild.
I'll leave it at that.
These old pictures seem to present a perfect little guy, and that's what he was.
Ray was by far the best singer in the family. Kind of a crazy player, though, like me.
Loved kids. We've always suspected that a certain kid of a certain former girlfriend was his, but dunno. But he sure did love playing with that kid. Had lots of serious girlfriends, but he never seemed to drop out of their lives. When he died, lots of 'em came out of the woodwork.
Loved animals. Rescued lots of 'em. Two of 'em--Paco and Max--ended up with my folks. They became beloved family pets, along with all those cats that Ray left.
In the early 80s, he decided to become a Marine. At first, he flourished there. Spent time in the Philippines and "the Rock." Don't know where else.
I think he was always proud of his time with the Corps.
I came across these pins kept in a Manila folder.
I found poetry too.
And crazed essays.
Ray was an avid hang-glider pilot. He once flew above Mount Whitney, which is crazy, of course.
He invented an elegant device that helped fliers determine wind direction for landings, but he could never get his act together to market the idea. Plenty of interest, though.
Once, I went with him to Mt. Laguna down in San Diego County to watch 'em fly. Took this pic.
Here are some odd documents that I came across. First: my grandmother's green card, I guess.
Well, anyway, it is green. And it's a card.
Evidently, I purchased this fishing license in 1970. I would have been 15 years old.
Here's a curious shot of my mother and my grandmother sitting on the hood of my parents' Ford in Niagara Falls, Canada, 1953.
This is my dad, circa 1950.
One of my sister Annie's paintings from the 80s, I think.
That's her sense of humor all right.