It was great to know you, Ray.

In 1988, I walked into Ray Welch's office at Welch, Currier. He sat me down across from his desk and looked at my book. There wasn't much in it that was good, but he gave me a bit of encouragement.

About 15 years later, I hired him to do a voiceover for me and asked him about the desk that he sat at while he didn't hire me. Ray said, "It's in the basement. You want it?"

I've always admired Ray, so we reached an agreement. He gave me the desk, and I gave him a case of very expensive whiskey for the next several years. I've enjoyed sitting at Ray's desk ever since, and have been careful not to eliminate the whiskey stains on it, or poison the surface with my wretched tea, which would probably upset Ray greatly.

The desk came with a picture of Ray sitting at it in 1978 during his glory days. Picture appears above this post.

Ray Welch was a great writer with a unique voice, who lived life on his terms. Those terms, whiskey and Camel cigarettes, no filters, were significantly different than mine, but I respect his choices.

Below is a piece of copy written by Ray on his website. It summarizes his tone well.

After that is the email announcing his death by his wife Gail.

"I'm a storyteller. The stories I tell are true ones, most of them taken from experience and set down without a whole lot of embellishment.

I write them in the form of books and ads, and speak them as a voiceover in commercials and narrations. In both, you can hear a lifetime of unfiltered Camels and Johnnie Walker Red, which I'm neither proud nor ashamed of. For the most part, what you don't hear is very much bullshit.

I've won over 100 silver bowls for what the industry touts as "creative excellence," which I use chiefly as ashtrays and the occasional festive planter.

After forty years in the business as a creative director, voice talent and advertising agency principal, I moved from Boston to a small town on the coast of Rhode Island between Providence and Newport.

To get here from America, you have to go through Customs and set your watch to Rhode Island Time, which runs about half an hour slower than Eastern Standard. On a scale of one to ten, I like it about an eleven.

If you make the drive, I'll buy the drinks."

-Ray Welch



The note from Ray's wife Gail announcing his death:

Dear friends --



There are 474 contacts in Ray's address book, 150 unread messages, and

lots of good friends who've been wondering "where's Ray...."



I'm deeply sorry to tell you that he's passed on. This has been a sad

and scary time for both of us. He spent 5 days in the hospital,

following several emergency episodes of congestive heart failure

beginning on the 13th. He has been home since Monday afternoon, having

used nearly the last of his energy to convince the doctors that he was

fine to go home. This is where he wanted to be, and where we've been

having hospice care since Wednesday night. Claudia and Jim have been

with me, thank heaven; I don't know how anyone would get through this

alone.



Every one of you deserves to hear this sad news first-hand -- but,

as one of his oldest friends said recently, "I'm 80 years old and have

a lot of friends -- and of all my friends, Ray has the most friends of

anyone I've ever known."



So the task of speaking personally to each of you is just too

daunting, since I'm finding it hard to get through even one phone

call...hence this email. Again, I'm sorry that this is all I can

manage right now.



Everyone will be asking if there's anything they can do. Right now,

what I need most is a few nights' sleep and a little space to let this

settle down.



Despite the vicious metastatic cancer he was fighting, we were still

functioning in one-day-at-a-time mode and I find myself stunningly

unprepared for this day.



We will have some sort of memorial service event at a time when all of

the daughters can miraculously be here together -- which will be at some

point between July 5th-8th and of a nature that Ray would hopefully

approve of. When we've figured it out, I'll let you know.



Meanwhile, please send good thoughts in lieu of flowers or cards or

calls and I'll be in touch soon.



Thanks for your love and understanding -- I know Ray would have done

this letter so much better if he'd had the chance.


Gail