“Well my time went so quicklyI went lickety-splickly out to my old '55As I drove away slowly, feeling so holyGod knows, I was feeling alive.”
If you have yet to figure it out, every day we awake and rise out of bed is a good day. Especially when you consider the alternative.
I have not written “Snap. Shot” in a while, and this one is going to be somewhat different than my previous posts; as far as I am concerned, when you come across someone like Raymond Joseph Petsche, you realize he was a “once-in-a-lifetime” friend. That was Ray, or as I referred to him, Ray “my major league main man” Petsche.
Why would I call him that? Not only was Ray a genuine good guy, he also loved baseball—he was truly major league!
He was a business associate who became my friend when we met back in the early 90s. It didn’t take long to develop; we were at a sales meeting and believe it or not --- we were roommates. Back in those days, when most media companies were having lavish sales meetings, we had roommates. Looking back, I am thankful we did. He was our research director—and also THE smartest guy I knew at the time, and funny, nothing ever changed after that day.
Plus...
He didn’t have an ego. I mean he never got the memo that said, “you are the director of research for the company, you are supposed to let people know you are smart, talented, and most of all an ‘a-hole.’” Like I said, he never got that memo.
Ray had much more than a work life---but he also worked very hard. He had a family with 2 kids he adored, and even though he and his wife divorced...of what I am told they were never mean or bitter toward one another. I can say for sure, he always had nice things to say about her---and I would be very surprised if that were not the same from her.
For two people not having worked together for 16 years, every time I would call him or vice versa, we just started the conversation where we left off. That was Ray, and he was a "major league main man” of a friend.
There was one other passion Ray had, it was his 1955 Yellow Chevrolet Bel Air. This car---of what I recall--was passed down to him by either his father or grandfather. It was, and still is, as pristine as the day it came off the assembly line. Also because he lived in California, rust is not something you find on cars as often as we do in the Midwest--it was beautiful. When he drove around, I have to believe heads would turn, and questions about the car were likely asked over and over. I am sure Ray answered them all.
Over they years, we didn’t talk as often as I would have liked---but that’s part of life; however, I do remember when we were last in contact. The day was July 11, 2022 when I sent a note out to a number of people, including Ray, about one of our counterparts who had passed away. We caught up that day and promised to stay in touch.
That brings us to where we are today. This past December, I called Ray’s phone, and it went to voicemail. As I always did, I sald, “Ray my ‘major league main man” let’s talk---and I waited for him to return my call. It was the following night when my phone rang and I saw his name come across the screen. I answered and said, “Ray, what’s going on?” However, it wasn’t Ray, it was his daughter Kimi on the other end of the line. My heart sank. I learned Ray had passed away on January 23, 2023 at 5:42 AM and felt the tear rolling down my cheek---I just wanted to speak with him one more time, it will have to be another time.
For many of us, we have Raymond Joseph Petsche’s in our life. I was the lucky one to have known him for more than 30 years.
The photo above was taken in Inverness, CA. Of what I can tell, this is not a 55 Bel Air, but if you look closely, you will see a face in the window. It looks like James Dean; Ray was not a James Dean type person, but I assure you they are good friends upstairs in heaven, and on some road, right now, they're driving that "Ol' 55."
Thank you for your friendship, Ray, you left one hell of an impression on this world and an even bigger one on me.
Thanks for stopping by.
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