RAY WHITFORD: A Tribute to a Native Son

Here is a wonderful tribute by Hobie Morris to RAY WHITFORD who passed away on Christmas Day. The Musings of a Simple Country Man Ray Whitford: A Tribute to a Native Son By Hobie Morris On Christmas day one of this area’s most widely known and greatly admired native sons passed into the ranks of those of many earlier generations who were similarly distinguished in this community. For many of us familiar with his decades of unselfish contributions, Ray Whitford will always be affectionately remembered as Mr. Brookfield. An honorary title that was deeply heartfelt by the legions of people who appreciated all that he meant. Over the years the good people of this area generously recognized Ray’s importance in any number of ways, including at his beloved fairgrounds as well as a scenic park named in his honor at the edge of the village. Ray’s voluntary activities and special interests would take a thick volume to completely enumerate. What follows is only a small sampling of the impact he made. For decades, in fact virtually his whole life, he was deeply involved with the Madison County/Brookfield Fair in many different capacities. At fair time it seemed there were 10 Ray Whitfords all working simultaneously to make the fair a success. There were no jobs that this jack of all trades wouldn’t gladly tackle. For over 40 years and counting he was the inspirational and guiding leader of the widely popular fall classic “Wheel Days.” In fact, fair officials from all over the state knew Ray Whitford and often called on him for his assistance and advice. Ray was also an important voice in the popular stock car races that were held at the fairground in the 1950’s. Many of the old time drivers who drove there still remember Whitford with great affection. Whit, as he was called, and others of his generation spent countless thousands of hours keeping the fairgrounds “ship shape,” both before and after the main events. When the cheering stopped, these volunteers were there mowing grass, painting, repairing, fixing, cleaning up, etc. My lovely wife, Lois, and I remember many late summer evenings when Ray would work all alone putting together a wonderful exhibit of Americana and Wheel Day memorabilia in one of the fairgr0und’s exhibition buildings. When special groups used the fairgrounds, Ray would become a cook, dishwasher and a rather famous drink impresario. On many occasions he loved popping popcorn (as he was passing away recently he was still mumbling about needing to get up to the fairgrounds to pop popcorn.) Many of us believe that Ray Whitford must be given major credit for helping keep this great historic fair going in both good and bad times. Thankfully, good people like Jeff Mayne, Terry Larkin, Josh Walker have taken up the necessary reins of leadership responsibilities. Ray Whitford was a genial and delightful man to know. Tall, thin and kindly looking he was low keyed in many ways, with a dry sense of humor. Over 30 years we sat down with him on many occasions. He seemed to know everybody, and everybody liked him. As far as we know he never had an enemy nor did he ever speak unkindly of others. We often enjoyed Ray reminiscing about his growing up years. He loved the past but wasn’t entrapped by it. He often spoke about going to school, joining the Army after WW II and many different jobs that he held at various times. For instance, he would help Wendell Morrow put in furnaces. He worked on Joe Piersma’s construction crew and later had a job in Utica at, I believe, Drop Forge. For many years he was a serviceman for Sears and Roebuck, first in the New Hartford Shopping Center and later the Sangertown Mall. In those years Sears manufactured, sold and repaired their American made appliances. Fixing them was Ray’s job and he enjoyed it because he liked people. He was saddened when appliances began to be made elsewhere, couldn’t be fixed here, but if fixable had to be shipped long distances elsewhere. Ray would just shake his head at the changes in his lifetime. During this time Ray would marry the love of his life, Judy, and was blessed with two loving children, Ronnie and Jill; and many grandchildren and now great grandchildren would follow. From time to time Ray would reminisce about his early years in Brookfield. Many of these stories have been lost but fortunately not all of them. I gathered that in his younger years he was a rather dare devil man who liked and palled around with good friends, motor cycles, fast cars and maybe even a nip or two on occasion. He lived fast and enjoyed life to its fullest. After WW II Ray saved up his pennies so he could fly in a single engine Piper Cub piloted by a veteran Army pilot. The plane flew in and out of the cow pasture just east of the Chester Dye farm. It was fair time and Ray had a somewhat nerve wracking experience as the small plane did all kinds of acrobatic tricks. Ray loved it. Many years later Ray was a bungee jumper up at the fair and a regular swimmer in the Colgate pool almost into his 80’s. Ray loved thrills and excitement. Ray’s parents were descended from pre- and post-Civil War generations. His father William died unexpectedly when Ray was very young. William Whitford was, among other things, a jack of all trades as well as a skilled electrician. He was involved in running the first and only Brookfield electrical system in the first decade of the 20th Century. When his father died, Ray, their only child, did many jobs to help his mother get through the difficult Depression years that followed. From their large, two-family house at the corner of Dugway and Skaneateles Turnpike Ray would often push and later pull up the hill his reel lawn mower. He had several lawn mowing jobs in the village. Ray recalled with a chuckle that, one winter day during the 1930’s, with the Dugway totally plugged with deep snow, he heard a lot of early morning noise and voices outside. It was several trucks containing WPA workers, each carrying a long handled, pointed shovel. They proceeded to shovel the Dugway open for traffic. It took many, many hours. Have you ever tried to shovel snow with a pointed shovel? Ray was also the local newspaper boy. Picking the bundle of papers up at the General Store, he would fold them, put them in a canvas bag hung over his shoulder and off he’d go (on his bike, in season). At one time he delivered over 100 papers per day. For all his work, and if everybody paid their bill, he earned a whopping 64 cents a week, or two cents a paper for his effort. Ray also did odd jobs at the General Store, from packing and delivering, to filling glass quart motor oil bottles. One of his main jobs was candling eggs br0ught in by farmers to either sell of barter. A candle was held up to each egg to see if it was fertilized, and thus less marketable. With times very tough and hard money extremely scarce, the bartering of farm produce was regularly used. The store owner, Mr. Curtis, carried many local people “on the books” for years. People tried to heip each other as much as possible. Ray was sure Mr. Curtis and other people like him carried unpaid debts to their graves. The General Store was, and still is, a very popular place in this community, selling not only food and hardware items, but also dry goods such as shirts, pants, hats, boots, gloves, etc. In those days people could easily do their Christmas shopping at the store. The coming of WW II would irrevocably change small rural, semi-self contained rural communities like Brookfield. Men went off to war, others to work in industries in nearby cities; women began working outside the home and farming began to change dramatically. Countless changes came fast and furious in the post war years. But Ray Whitford’s salad years were ahead. A long exciting life encompassing his family, an army of friends and an amazing legacy of contributions in many different venues in this community and area. He has eminently earned his eternal rest. May this simple country man and his lovely wife bid farewell to our good friend, a native son with a treasure trove of memories remaining to remember him by.