Ray Gene Whitaker was born June 8, 1930 on the Catfish Ranch near Brackettville, Texas.  Herbert Hoover was president and a first-class stamp cost 2 cents.  Unemployment soared and America was in the midst of the Great Depression.  Into this world Ray was born, the youngest of five children, affectionately called "Honey Boy" by his Mom.  As children, Ray´s Mom had taken them to see one of the traveling blackface minstrel shows in Brackettville and after returning home, Ray and his sister would act out the parts of  "Honey Boy" and "Peaches."  His Mom called Ray Honey Boy right up to the end of her life, and for his sister, the nickname stuck with everyone calling her Peaches to this day.

His grandparents, Samuel and Mary Jane Scott, and his mom, Lora Whitaker, raised Ray.  Ray recalled that they lived a pretty self-sufficient lifestyle, growing much of their food from their own garden.  The kids did their part, helping to keep the garden watered. Back then it was done by hand-dipping buckets into the stock tank--not easy work.  They would keep a milk cow, and butcher a pig or two to get through the winter months.  Ray remembered his grandmother as a great cook who fixed biscuits for breakfast and prepared dishes like creamed cabbage that he loved.

He thought of his grandfather as a good man who would go into Uvalde occasionally, often on the bus, to buy the basic staples such as sugar, flour and salt.  Ray recalled his grandfather carving bows and arrows and setting up targets so he and his sister Peaches could learn how to shoot.  Peaches remembers that their grandfather kept a really sharp pocketknife and it was a great privilege to be able to borrow that knife to cut a pumpkin stem to make a whistle.  His grandfather also taught Ray the art of chip carving and "whittling." At a young age, Ray learned how to carve intricate chains and balls in cages that are characteristic of what is now known as "hobo art" or  "whimsy carving".  To make these intricate pieces, you needed a block of wood, a pocketknife, a sharpening stone. . . and a lot of patience.  It is an art that Ray passed down to his sons Charlie and Bob.  Historically, the hobo art pieces were carved to give as gifts to friends or to trade for food or money.  In keeping with this history, Ray´s pieces are a great symbol of his generosity as a person and the self-sufficiency he learned in his childhood.  His grandfather taught them to say:

                    We´re tough as a boot top

                Spit on a rock and bust it

                Eat a diamond rattlesnake

                And whip a grizzly bear.

                The farther up the road you go,

                The tougher they get.

                 And I live in the last house.

Ray´s grandparents passed away when he was 10 years old and by the age of 12, he was pretty much on his own, living and working on South Texas cattle ranches.  Franklin D. Roosevelt was president and with lots of men committed to the efforts of World War II, Ray was able to find work riding fence and herding cattle, getting paid about a dollar a day.  By the time he was 16, Ray had shifted into the construction field, starting as a carpenter´s helper and quickly advancing to carpenter and carpenter foreman on bridge crews and residential construction projects in San Antonio, Del Rio, New Braunfels and Uvalde.

Working at such a young age didn´t lend itself to education and Ray dropped out of school, finishing only the 9^th grade.  He truly was a self-made man who credited his later success to reading and self-study that advanced him in his career despite his lack of formal education.  He remembers working road construction and when the other guys would be at the bar having a drink after hours, he´d be in his motel room reading engineering and construction books, trying to learn and excel at his craft.

It was during this time, the fall of 1950, working construction in the Uvalde area that Ray was driving his 1941 torpedo-backed Buick when he saw a young woman cross the street with her nose in a book.  Ray looked over at his buddy in the passenger seat, pointed her out and announced, "That´s the girl I´m going to marry."  After making a few inquiries, Ray found out who she was and asked a friend to arrange a double date.  The girl was Ruth Walden, just 15 years old and living with her folks at a local trailer park.  Ruth thought the friend who was doing the arranging was asking her out, and was surprised to learn that Ray would in fact be her date for the evening.  Theirs would be quite a love story.  After three dates, Ray proposed and on the fourth date she accepted.  She didn´t want him to think she was overly anxious!  A draft notice hastened their plans and they were married September 1, 1951.  Ray was 21 and Ruth was just 16.

Despite his lack of education, the army tested him at the equivalent of two years of college and Ray was given the opportunity to serve as a military policeman.  While stationed at Fort Sam Houston, he had the distinction of riding motorcycle escort for General Macarthur when he visited San Antonio.  While serving as an MP in Korea, Ray sometimes guarded ambulance trains that came under fire despite their protected status.  Ruth finished High School and anxiously awaited Ray´s return.  Thin and seasick from the journey, Ray made it back home safely, having earned the Korean Service Medal with 1 bronze star and the United Nations Service Medal.

Back in San Antonio, Ray and Ruth set up housekeeping and started their family with the birth of their first child Gene, quickly followed by Charlie.  Ray resumed his career in construction, first working for an overhead door company, and then starting with HB Zachry as a carpenter on their Mission Road, Leon Creek and North side power plant projects.  In 1956, Ray and Ruth bought their 40-acre farm in Devine following a drought and without a single blade of grass on it.  They paid $8,000.  A third son, Bob arrived, born at the farm, followed by their first daughter "Missy" just less than a year later.

In 1959, their fifth child arrived before the doctor did. The old country doctor who came out to handle the delivery got lost on the dark country roads and by the time he arrived, Ray had already delivered his fourth son Doug.  Ruth was already up washing sheets. Ray gave the doctor a cup of coffee and a pat on the back, but made sure Ruth went to the hospital for future deliveries. 

The family packed up and moved to Nolan while Ray worked on the Atlas Missile Silos outside Abilene for HB Zachry.  After that project, they returned to the farm while Ray served as building foreman for a project at Medina Base for the Atomic Energy Commission, then as General Superintendent for the addition and remodeling of the Officer´s Club at Randolph Air Force Base.  Once again, the family packed up and moved, this time to Laredo, where Ray supervised the construction of VA and FHA homes.  1964 would find them back at their farm in Devine while Ray worked on the remodeling of the Baptist Memorial Hospital in San Antonio.  It was at this time, their 6^th child Linda was born-at the hospital in Hondo, not at home!! --followed by their seventh child, Margaret a little over a year later.

With 7 young kids at home, the Whitaker household could be a little crazy.  Ray was a selfless person who valued people, not things and he always put others ahead of himself.  There were lean times, but he always made sure there were 5 stacks of change on the kitchen table in the morning for the oldest kids´ school lunches.  He didn´t always have a sack lunch, lunch money or sometimes even enough to buy himself a cup of coffee, but he always made sure the kids had what they needed.

The kids were good at trying his patience, sometimes talking late at night past bedtime when he would say that he "didn´t want to hear another peep out of you," only to be promptly answered with peeps and chirps from the back bedroom.  And they wondered why he called them knuckleheads.  Corralling 7 kids at dinner time wasn´t easy and when comments turned to who was eating what and how and how much, Daddy would warn "keep your eyes on your own plate!"  But he rarely yelled. He didn´t have to.  He said what he meant and meant what he said and earned the respect of those who knew him.  He was particularly good at intimidating boyfriends, whether it was testing the razor-sharp edge of the knife he just happened to be sharpening when dates would arrive or announcing "I think you´d better leave."  Eddie got the speech about, "When I say 12 o´clock, I mean 12 o´clock, not 12:05, not 12:10, not 12:15.  I think you´d better leave!"  If he suspected you´d been out carousing too late or drinking the night before, you were likely to be rousted at sunrise with a plate of fried eggs and the announcement that we´d be building fence or burning brush that day.  Daddy didn´t always say he knew, but you knew that he knew and that was his way of getting his message across.

Dad could also be very cool, like the time Doug came riding in on a horse late at night after trick roping in Pearsall.  I suppose Dad could tell Doug had a few too many--as did his trick roping partner who couldn´t even maneuver the truck and trailer through the front gate and so just dumped Doug and the horse out at the road to ride home.  Dad didn´t say a word, just put away the horse and sent Doug to bed.  Dad´s work schedule didn´t allow him to cook much, but he made great huevos rancheros.  He didn´t fare as well with his infamous rubber gravy.

Ray Whitaker left his mark in our hearts and in the San Antonio skyline.  Over the years, he built schools, churches and office buildings, the Boerne Library, worked on many of the raised ramps, walkways, restaurants and pavilions of Hemisfair Park.  Ray talked about sitting atop the stem of the Hemisfair Tower before the top restaurant was added.  At the end of a hard day, he sat up there with his legs dangling over the edge, drinking coffee and watching the sun go down.  He renovated and restored many of the old houses in La Villita, built the Express-News building downtown, barracks buildings at Randolph Air Force Base, the Randolph Brooks Federal Credit Union, Lutheran General Hospital, the Regional US Post Office on Perrin Beitel, remodeling and addition to the main post exchange at Fort Sam Houston, the Texas Bank building, the U-T Health Science Center Medical Library, the current KENS-TV studios, multiple medical buildings and shopping centers, as well as Fiesta Plaza and dorms and related projects at Trinity University.

Ray told awesome construction stories and was a great leader of the men and sub-contractors who worked for him.  He was a master at leaving a tiny mark somewhere inconspicuous so that when a painting contractor claimed he had applied a second coat, he could say, "No you didn´t.  Let´s get to it."  He was a good judge of character and had no qualms about letting a sub-standard employee go after just a single day.  He´d just say, "Don´t come back."

His work ethic, integrity and honesty showed in all that he did.  When other superintendents were selling off surplus building materials and scrap at the end of their projects and pocketing the proceeds, Ray Whitaker sold the surplus and turned the proceeds back into the job budget.  He literally sent a painting contractor sailing out of his job trailer one day after he suggested that Ray take a bribe and award him a painting bid.

Concrete was a special area of expertise for Ray and in 1985, he was instrumental in forming the San Antonio chapter of the American Concrete Institute and served as its first Vice President.  He was recognized by ACI for his last ditch efforts to successfully move their international convention to San Antonio after Mexico was hit by a devastating earthquake.

Ray Whitaker´s legacy will live on not only in the San Antonio skyline, but also in his family.  His children have embodied his work ethic and spirit of fair dealing.  He led by example and taught them to do whatever it takes to succeed.  He said, "Do one thing and do it well."  His final construction project was overseeing the building of the state prison in Dilley.  Despite his years of experience, his lack of a high school diploma came into question, and so at the age of 62, he earned and received his GED.  He was proud of that.

Ray Whitaker possessed a humility, grace and quiet dignity that earned him the love and respect of all who knew him.  In his later years, he appreciated the simple pleasures-spending time with family, a good meal, and a cup of coffee at the local diner with what he referred to as "the old fart´s club." 

Ray enjoyed hunting, watching wildlife and feeding the raccoons who became regulars on his front porch.  Ray especially loved country music.  His bedside radio was always on, and actually was never turned off except for the few times he moved it.  The harmonica version of the Green Valley Waltz was a particular favorite and he recalled feeding countless nickels into the jukebox to hear that song.  Linda found that song on CD for him and he really enjoyed listening to that and his CDs of Jimmie Rodgers, Hank Williams and the Carter Family. 

In the weeks before his death, Ray had asked that the following song be included in his service.  It is Beyond the Sunset by Hank Williams.

Many a Saturday evening in the Whitaker household was spent watching Hee Haw.  In recent years, Ray loved watching the old Westerns, especially John Wayne and reruns of Gunsmoke.  He also became quite the Spurs fan and watched many of the playoff games at the hospital.  Two days before he died, he watched Gunsmoke and laughed and truly enjoyed himself.

Ray was a tough cookie.  Over the years he endured back injuries, back surgeries and multiple heart attacks that paramedics said he never should have survived.  He had an incredible will to live.  He endured a 5-way heart bypass.  He broke both hips and suffered heart attacks after each.  When he fell and broke his hip last year, he had a heart attack and still managed to pull himself up into the Gator, use his cane to press the accelerator and drive himself over to meet the ambulance.

He never thought he´d go like this.  After years of construction and commuting, he figured he would eventually be killed in some kind of accident.  One of the sad things about lung cancer is that there is a certain stigma or element of blame for the patient who smokes.  Ray smoked for 50 years, from 1947 to 1997.  In his day, it´s just what people did.  It was really his only vice and true to his character, he was totally accountable and blamed no one but himself.

In the face of adversity, Ray chose to fight.  He was no quitter and wanted to go out swinging.  Even though this would be a battle he would not win, he never felt sorry for himself and maintained his good nature and sense of humor.  As was his nature, he worried more about others and leaving Ruth behind than about himself.

Ray made the most of his final weeks and days, taking pleasure in the little things like riding in Maggy´s Hummer, watching an afternoon thunderstorm, waiting in the dark to watch the sunrise, watching the hummingbirds feed outside his window and visits from Linda´s dog Ishy who would pop in periodically to check on Dad and receive a pat.  He especially enjoyed seeing the grandkids-his face would really light up.  And we´ll always remember Hollie playing "Happy Birthday" on her viola as doctors, staff and family sang to him on what would be his last birthday.  His last meal was the sweet rice he loved, made especially for him by Vernell Sultenfuss.

It is hard to sum up in this brief moment the life of a man who has meant so much to so many people.  We ask ourselves, "How do you adequately honor this man?"  Ray leaves behind Ruth, his wife of 56 years, two sisters, 7 children and their spouses whom he treated like his own sons and daughters.  He also leaves 17 grandchildren and 8 great-grandchildren.  His passing will leave a huge void in our lives and in this family.  As the head of our family, we all sought his approval and guidance in shaping our own lives.  We are his legacy.  We honor his life by living ours according to his values; carry on his name by embodying the honesty, integrity, work ethic, the toughness, the selflessness, the kind and gentle spirit of the man who was Ray G. Whitaker.  Ray gave love freely from his heart, never shied away from giving a firm handshake, a smile or a hug, telling you he loved you or letting you know that he was proud of you.  It has been said, "What the heart gives away is never gone. . . It is kept in the hearts of others."

We´ll miss you Papa.