Opinion

A Tribute to a Personal Hero

Friday, October 21, 2016

EDITOR'S NOTE: This column originally appeared in the September 19, 2002 edition of The Daily Mail.

I have been blessed.

For more than 75 years, I have had a hero who has never let me down. I could always look up to my hero for support, love and leadership. And I still can. My hero is my big brother, Harold Gray. Harold will be 95 years old this Saturday, and he is still living independently, drives 20 miles each week to visit our sister, Gertrude (who will soon have her 90th birthday), and remembers everything you would ever want to know about history, geography, jazz or politics.

In our large family, he seldom searches for a name, even among the youngsters. If he can't remember for a minute, his poise and charm can hide his lapse and no one ever suspects there was a moment when the name escaped him.

When I was a young child, Harold was already a handsome young adult with a large circle of friends who came to our home frequently. I knew he was the best looking one of the group. These friends nicknamed him "Hap" as short for Harold but also because of his cheerful, friendly disposition. My earliest memories of him were when he was in George Washington University in Washington, DC. This was in the depression years and jobs were hard to come by, but he had several interesting short-term positions after graduation, before he went to New York City with the American Automobile Association. His knowledge of geography and history gave him a leg-up there, but when an opportunity came to have a similar position back in Washington, he took it because he said he missed the fun of being home with the family.

While he was back with the family, he met a petite southern woman, Lida Ruth Yow, and he soon changed his bachelor status. There was something in the air that summer, as our sister, Gertrude, and our brother, Ralph, also chose that year to marry. Kathryn preceded them by three years. Immediately following Harold and Lida's wedding, they left for his new job in Chicago with the Highway Users Association.

This left a gap in our household, but Harold and Lida were good to come back for holidays and soon were bringing their three sons as years went by. After I had settled permanently in Missouri, Harold and his family returned to Washington where he continued with the same organization.

He has been in our capitol city long enough now to be one of the oldest (maybe actually the oldest) member of an organization called "The Oldest Inhabitants of Washington DC."

Since so many people live there for a few years before returning to their home elsewhere, long-term residents were not plentiful.

He is the past president of that club. His other interests include writing a column, "Tailgate Ramblings" for Jazz publications and attending jazz and bluegrass concerts and events across the nation. He and Lida were active volunteers for Meals on Wheels. Harold's job was to map out the routes for the drivers to follow to avoid wasted time and confusion. For six years, he cared for his wife as she suffered with Alzheimer's disease, and now that he is alone, he continues most of his former activities with some nighttime driving help from his many friends. He now walks with a cane, but carries it off with style so it looks more like an accessory than a need.

We have been privileged to be hosted on his fabulous tours of our nation's city. Even though I grew up there, he can show me things I never saw and tell me things I never knew.

All through my life, he has filled me in about historical events, and when I was still living at home, he took me to many that I would never have gone to alone. Among these was Churchill's lighting of the nation's Christmas Tree on the White House lawn during World War II, watching the King and Queen of England pass in a motorcade down Pennsylvania Avenue, and several Inauguration Parades.

Last Thanksgiving we were able to return the favor by taking him to Branson following a gathering at our family home. In all his travels, he had never seen either the old or the new Branson, so he joined members of our family on a two-day whirlwind tour.

He enjoyed the music shows and even "Rode the Ducks" to see more of the area. However, he mentioned that one of the best things about that trip was getting to sleep in his old room at The Wayside.

Through all these years, he has always expressed pride in all of us younger siblings in the family, and certainly for his one older sister, Miriam. It is with great pride that I receive his telephone calls congratulating me on a certain column or article in the paper. After a lifetime of looking up to my hero, it is great to know he has good thoughts about me too.

Happy Birthday, Harold!