Ice Cream: The Rest of the Story

Well, the ice cream story from Ray picks up about 50 years later. In 1988 Tom and Robin were thinking to move from New Mexico to Ohio, so we stopped in to see George near Dayton. I invited us over to visit and during Sunday dinner I asked about George's brother Raymond who I could never remember meeting. He told me that Ray worked for a company called Glas Col in Terre Haute. He figured I had never heard of the place, however, I had used Glas Col products for years and never knew my cousin was president of the company. Now space ahead a few months to my second moving trip to Ohio. I was driving to Ohio in my Isuzu diesel car which was completely loaded with stuff. There was a car top on the roof, the back seat was full and there was a lamp on the passenger seat. Well, I picked a route that took me through Terre Haute and I stopped off in the middle of the afternoon and found a phone book and looked up Glas Col. I found the old red brick building and parked my car and went inside. Now I realize that presidents of companies have shields to prevent sales people and just anybody from taking their time. So, I gave the receptionist my card and told her that I wanted to see Mr. Rickert and that I was his cousin. She told me he would be with me as soon as he got off the phone. Well, I was shown into Ray's office and he greeted me like a long lost cousin, which I basically was. I asked if he remembered which cousin I was and he replied: "your father was the one that bought me an ice cream cone when I was a little boy". I was stunned that he would remember what seemed like such a trivial event that happened so long ago. This was a moment in my life that I understood that there was a real closeness in the Walker family that was stifled by the physical distances between us. This is partly why I have done with family what I have. In a big sense, I was doing the same thing my father did so many years ago when he bought ice cream cones for the family.

Well, Ray and I had a long wonderful conversation that afternoon and I arrived at my apartment in Dayton way too late, but it was worth every minute of time we spent together. Later we would talk about a Chemistry meeting in St. Louis that we both attended a few years earlier. There were a huge # of exhibits, one of which was Glas Col. I had always been curious about the company that made heating mantles and I thought about stopping by their booth to learn about them, but for some reason I never did. Ray told me he was at that meeting and had been manning the booth. We could have met that day and never realized we were cousins. Or perhaps, I might have asked about where he was from which is something I ask people a lot. Usually, I've been to or near the place. Ray would have said, I'm from Northern Indiana and I would have said, gee, my family is from there too. And he would have said South Bend or Mishawaka actually and I would have said . . . .

Missed opportunities. Don't let them pass you by. My parents are gone now, their names chiseled in granite, but I cherish the memories and the stories. Sit and introduce yourself to somebody you don't know at the campout and learn about the great things you have in common. Thank you Ray for the memories.