By Dan Gathof
You know what your problem is…No Ray to Steer You
“What do you not want to be in when it breaks down?”
This was one of the Family Feud questions during our Thanksgiving dinner in 2018. My father-in-law, Ray—88 years old at the time— took a long pause, looked at everyone around the table, paused again and then said to me “what’s the question again?” We all chuckled as I repeated it, waiting in anticipation for his answer. Another long pause followed, and our smiles grew as we waited for Ray’s response. Finally, in his calm, deliberate way, he said, “A pandemic.”
The table erupted in laughter. We had expected something like “a car,” “an elevator,” or maybe even “an airplane.” But Ray’s answer was classic him—unexpected, thoughtful, and deeply rooted in who he was. Having been a doctor until the age of 72, and a voracious reader of medical journals, he often surprised us with insights that revealed both his intellect and his wry humor.
Years later, after his passing, we recalled that moment with fondness, especially as we found ourselves in the midst of COVID. What started as a funny, offbeat response became something almost prophetic. That was Ray—in addition to his good nature, he was also a very wise man.
For 20 Thanksgivings, I was blessed to have Ray at our table. My relationship with him was remarkably uncomplicated. We could talk about anything—investing, golf, politics, psychology, religion—and never once did we have a dispute or a misunderstanding. For someone as judgmental as I once was, this is nothing short of miraculous in my world.
Ray never complained about his life, though it had been far from easy. His battle with alcoholism led to a painful divorce and strained relationships with two of his daughters. At one point, his world revolved around new Corvettes every two years, wild parties, and a fish pond inside his home that served as a centerpiece of his extravagant lifestyle. But despite these trappings, it wasn’t enough for him—Ray needed something deeper, something more meaningful. And so, he set himself on a course to change.
But I never knew that Ray. By the time I met him as a college sophomore, he had already turned his life around. The Ray I knew was graceful, kind, and steady. Slightly on the quieter side, he spoke with thoughtfulness and clarity. He adored my mother-in-law, and together they seemed genuinely happy, content with a modest and fulfilling lifestyle. Ray was, at his core, a truly good man.
It took me a few decades to fully appreciate Ray and the impact that he made on my life. Never an ill-word, never an argument starter, he was analytical in solving problems, and he didn’t bother too much with things he couldn’t control. The reason I appreciated this is because I was the opposite; I was quick to judge, quick to anxiety, I engaged in way too many useless arguments, and I needed everything in my life to be perfect. I gradually learned that I needed to let go of some of my old bad habits and behaviors and become more Ray-like.
In the last five years, I’ve often thought of Ray when I’ve felt triggered or overwhelmed. When anxiety or anger starts to take hold, I ask myself, What would Ray do? Time and again, his calm wisdom has helped me steady my course. Even though he’s no longer here, his voice on my shoulder remains a constant guide—a reminder to focus on what matters, to be kind, to stay calm, and to let go of the rest.
While this serves as a small tribute to Ray, it really is about finding those voices that help guide us through the noise in our careers and in life in general. Perhaps on this Thanksgiving you can reflect on the voices that shape you and ask yourself “What kind of voice will I leave behind for others?”
Hire Thought
In our work and in life, we all need steady voices to help guide us. Choose yours wisely, and strive to be that voice for someone else.
