Two Rays passed away this weekend in Dallas. I was lucky enough to know them both, at least for a short time.
I had a chance to interview Ray Nasher several years ago as part of an industrial film for a PR group working for The Limited. That retailer was getting ready to open their new Northpark store and Ray was delighted. The interview ranged widely from the original topic and much of it was about Mr. Nasher’s views on not only retail but also civic responsibility and politics.
Nasher was an unapologetic liberal. The liberal part of his politics was seen in the way he ran his business. Anyone who has ever been to
Northpark Center in Dallas, knows what I mean. The mall, one of the first and best malls in the country is beautiful. It is not overblown and showy, but built with persistent cream colored brick and an uncluttered design that gives the stores the featured attention, not the mall’s architecture. The other thing that makes Northpark so great is the abundance of public art. Drawn from Nasher’s personal collection walking through the mall, you are exposed to modern sculpture from Alberto Giacometti to Frank Stella. Round one corner and you see a huge steel piece by Mark Di Suvero soaring into the atrium before the food court. Sit and relax by in the courtyard outside and you can see a giant safety pin by Claus Oldenburg. Make a trip to Neiman-Marcus and you pass a giant mechanical sculpture by Jonathan Borofsky.
Nasher believed in sharing his art with everyone. He believed it was a joy to posses a world class collection of modern sculpture, but more of a joy to bring it to the citizens of Dallas to enjoy. The museum that bears his name, The Nasher Sculpture Center is one of the finest museums of it’s kind in the world and will be a lasting legacy to the man for whom it is named.
The other Ray who died was a man known to millions of Dallas Cowboy’s fans as Crazy Ray.
Wilford "Crazy Ray" Jones was a local celebrity since my childhood. I first met him at a little shop in downtown Dallas called Magicland. It was the only magic shop in the area, and as a budding amateur magician, it was my favorite hangout.
Ray, though when I first met him he was shining shoes, was a magician, too. He wasn’t the kind of magician who needed expensive props and lots of assistants. Ray did magic with the kind of things you could find in your pockets or even on the street. His favorite trick involved a cheep noisemaker hat he bought by the dozens at Magicland. It was simply a metal crescent with a piece of waxed paper attached. When held in the mouth, it was invisible and with practice, a skilled operator could make it emit the sounds of everything from birds to small dogs. Ray’s favorite trick was to carry a paper bag around and make the sounds of a whining puppy. He would flick the bag with his finger; hidden inside to make it twitch and it was so convincing that once he got on a bus with the bag. A passenger told him he couldn’t ride the bus with a dog in that bag, so he threw the bag out the window to the horror of the passenger.
Ray was an illusionist of the first class. He once taught me a trick where he borrowed a dollar bill. Tearing a corner off, he gave it to me for safekeeping, and then he lit the dollar on fire and proceeded to use it to light a cigarette. As the last of the bill turned to ashes, Ray watched my surprise. He simply sad, " now don’t you worry. Gimme some of that soda you are drinking."
I handed him the bottle of Dr Pepper and he took the cigarette and laid it on his outstretched palm. Pouring the soda over the cigarette to extinguish it, he plopped the soaked cigarette into my hand and told me to roll it between my palms. As I did the wet cigarette began turning green, and soon it was a soaked dollar bill between my hands. Of course there was a corner missing. The one I had saved from the bill in the first place!
David Blaine could learn volumes from Ray.
He later became the unofficial mascot of the Dallas Cowboys and was seen at almost every home game. His antics and magic brought smiles to millions of people and he was a Dallas icon. He selflessly shared his humor and talent with anyone who would stop and watch and like Ray Nasher, he gave a lot to the citizens of Dallas. I will miss them both.
Yesterday I was talking with an associate about my checkered past. When I spoke of the year I spent in Mexico working as a producer for Publicidad Metropolitana and Televisa, their ears perked up. They asked what programs I worked on and when I told them Burbujas, they smiled in recognition. I am always surprised when someone here knows about that program. Burbujas was the brain child of Sylvia Roche, a very talented and wise writer who used some wonderful characters to teach children about everything from geography to ecology.
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