Hollis started up a small subdivision and building program of his own on South Third Street and within a short time we started to get complaints from Newton Property clients he was building houses for, saying they were not getting the attention they felt they deserved. Among those complaining were Ben and Bobby Walker of Houston who were having him build a large Spanish style home in Wroxton Estates. They wanted Newton Properties to replace Hollis with someone that would show more interest in their house and keep promises that had been made to them. There were others complaining at the same time. I knew some changes were going to be made, and soon.

Bunny had come back to work for Newton Properties, after Bill died, and he called me into his office to ask what I knew about the complaints he was receiving in regard to Hollis. I told him what I knew about some of them and expressed my concern about Hollis building houses for himself. I was not surprised when he asked me to take over, and finish construction on the Walker house. When Bunny told Hollis what he had done, Hollis resigned. I suddenly became a homebuilder.

I finished the construction of the Walker house and a total of nineteen other houses for the company by the middle of 1970 when interest rates increased to eight and one half per cent and the bottom fell out of the home building business. Residential lots were not selling well either.

Mrs. Newton had re-hired Bob Sellers to run the company and his first action was to fire Jim Kirby and George Downs. Both men had been loyal employees for many years and had been hand picked by Bill Newton. I could just imagine that Bill turned over in his grave. Bob called me into his office and informed me he was pleased with what I had done for the real estate department, but that he was going to shut that operation down. He said that I could take my time finding another job, but my services would be no longer needed. Bunny said that it did not matter how long it took me to find a job equal to the one I had there, I would be on the payroll until I did.

I placed my application with the Federal Aviation Administration for a position in air traffic control and took a temporary job as an aircraft mechanic and charter pilot with Houston Northwest Aviation, at Hooks Airport near Tomball. There was no point in looking for a job equal to the one that I had with Newton. There just would never be another job equal to it. I felt betrayed because of what Bill had said in regard to me always having a job with him and there were many other things I could have done for the company. The only flying job I could find was flying a DC-3 for a small pipeline construction company in Biloxi, Mississippi. I did not want to move again. Loraine was a junior in high school with a 4.O grade average and hoping to receive a scholarship to some college when she finished school. A move at that time would have been bad for the whole family.

My sister Loraine had been quite ill in a Dallas hospital and I got a call about 8 p.m. on November 7, 1970, from her doctor for me to come to Dallas, she had become much worse. When Lois and Loraine and I arrived at the hospital at 11 p.m. we were told by the nurses she had died about 9 p.m. and her body had been taken to the funeral home.

She had given me a copy of her will several years earlier and I knew that she had one at her house, but a search of everything there and of our lock box failed to turn it up. Her estate would have to be settled by a probate court. I was appointed, by that court as administrator of her estate, which was to be equally divided between her surviving sisters, brother and her deceased brothers' heirs. Gladys, Mabel, Donald (Homer's son), and I were her heirs. Herman had no children and was not married when he died; therefore, he left no heirs to share in the estate.

Loraine had left a house in Dallas and one in Houston, a beach lot at Freeport, and a clothing store in Dallas, a Cadillac, and two checking accounts. The only thing she had that was not subject to probate was a trust fund she had set up in my name. The next year would be hard on me. I would have to dispose of all of her assets and settle all the liabilities. The lawyers were helpful but expensive. They received a larger share of the estate when it was settled than any one of us.

I was to have reported to the Air Route Traffic Control Center in Houston the day Loraine was buried, but was allowed to report the following week. I learned very quickly that I was going to have a hard time qualifying as a controller. The first question asked by

the orientation officer was, "What have you been doing for a living?" He already knew he had my record in his hand. When I replied, "An airplane pilot." his remark was, "Well, that is one strike against you, pilots rarely become good air traffic controllers." When he asked my age and learned that I was forty five years old, his remark was, "That's two strikes against you, you are too old, and you can bet we will find a way to get the third strike."

The pressure of settling Loraine's estate and the ever constant reminder that I was too old to be a controller, even while I was at the Air Academy in Oklahoma City, proved to be too much for me and I failed to qualify. It was a relief in a way, yet a big disappointment, because I had never failed at anything before. I soon learned that things happen for the best.

While I was in training at the Air Traffic Control Center, Lois had been working at the hospital as a unit secretary to help put Loraine through college. She had taken a brief leave of absence while I was in Oklahoma City and had gone to be with me there. She was not happy working at the hospital and when I leased the Enco service station on West Davis, across from the high school; she came to work with me.

The hours were long and the work was hard, but the profits were good and we made lots of friends while we were there. We used high school and college boys to help us run the station and because of good help we earned a reputation as a real "service" station, with regular customers coming from as far away as Oak Ridge North. Among those that helped us build our business were Rodney Ballard, Danny O'Meara, Russell Steward, Bruce Keys, and our future son in law, James Deane Ray.

We had the usual turn over of employees at service stations, but there was one that stayed with us as long as he could. Although he was probably the best service station salesman to ever pump gasoline, I had to fire Mac McCants for drinking on the job. I helped him get into the Veterans Hospital to stop drinking and some years later he jokingly told Danny O'Meara that it was my fault he had cancer of the throat, because if I had not made him quit drinking he would have died from drinking whiskey before he came down with cancer.

Lois' mother had been in ill health for quite some time and in spite of Lois and Gene's objections, she had been put in a nursing home in Alabama. Lois and I had asked that she come to live with us but to no avail. We received word that she was not expected to live and before we could get there, she died. She had fallen and broken her hip a couple of years before she died and was never well again.

In June of 1972 I surprised everyone at morning worship services at the Church of Christ on North Frazier by obeying the gospel. Harry Gibson baptized me. I had been raised in the Methodist Church and had been a member of that denomination for some forty-seven years. My whole life changed at that point in time, as it should.

While we owned the Exxon service station, we attended worship at the Church of Christ in Willis. Justus Wilson was the preacher there and he encouraged me to teach bible class. Later, when he left there and went back to Westfield, he asked me to fill in for him one Sunday. It was my first opportunity to bring a lesson from the pulpit. I have preached at ever opportunity I have had ever since. I sometimes think I would like to have been a preacher of the gospel, I know of no higher calling in life.

After James Deane received his degree in computer science at Sam Houston, and took employment with General Electric at NASA in Clear Lake City he and Loraine were married, September 1, 1972. Harry Gibson, the minister, married them at the Church of Christ in Conroe. People still wonder if I answered Harry's question of, "Who gives this bride?" with, "Her Mother and I." or "Her Mother not I." Only God and I know for sure.

James Deane was called to be drafted shortly after they married, but he volunteered for the Texas Air National Guard instead and was able to serve six months active duty at San Antonio and Biloxi, with the remainder of his enlistment served in reserve service.

Although business was good and we earned good profits, the 1973 oil crisis and the policies set by Exxon when they took over from Enco, coupled with the long hours were too much for Lois and I. In August of 1975 we sold the station and opened a garage on I 45 next to the Bonanza Steak House and Conroe Mazda. Danny O'Meara came to work with us as a mechanic while he attended Sam Houston State University in Huntsville.

Business at the garage was so good that the owner of the shop building doubled our monthly lease payments when the lease came up for renewal in August of 1976. Danny moved to Lamarque with his parents, and help was so hard to find that we decided to sell our equipment and close the garage. We had thought about buying a lot and building our own shop but land was too high. One location we looked at was on the corner of Hilbig and North 2nd. but we thought $2,000.00 an acre was too much. The county bought that same land later for $45,000.00 per acre to build a jail.

I heard that Radio Shack planned to open some new stores in the Houston area. The stores would be half owned by Charles Tandy of the Radio Shack chain, and half owned by the entrepreneur that chose to invest in the business venture.

Training was available while the stores were under construction and I worked and trained at the Conroe store in the Holly Hills shopping center. The hours were long and tiresome, but business was good and I gathered many ideas about the proper operation of a Radio Shack Store.

On Father's Day in 1977 James Deane and Loraine invited Truett and Estelle, his mother and father, and Lois and I, to meet at Fur's Cafeteria and eat with them. Truett and I assumed that it was in celebration of the occasion. It turned out to be much more. When we arrived and greeted them, Loraine handed Truett and me each a card which was signed, "Love, James Deane, Loraine, and your Grandchild. (Not Torrie)." They had a French poodle by the name of Torrie. Loraine was going to have a baby. We could not have received a more fitting Father's Day gift.

Unfortunately about three months later Truett came to the store to tell me that we had lost our grandchild. We were all saddened by the news but glad that Loraine was all right and would be able to bear another child.

Lois and I opened our Radio Shack Store at Jones and FM 1960 in early fall of 1977. After a year, we found that the hours spent at the store plus the drive to and from work was just too much for us. We sold our interest in the store to the Tandy Company, which is the parent company of Radio Shack, and I took a job as service manager for Holmes Car Clinic in Conroe.

In 1978 Loraine became pregnant again and Truett, Estelle, Lois, and I went to visit them on a Saturday in August. Truett and I were painting the nursery when James Deane told us Loraine was having trouble and he was taking her to the hospital. The baby boy was still born that night. We were all heart broken.

James Deane and Loraine decided to adopt a baby and began a search for just the right child. They found him in February of 1979.

Grandpa and Granny Ray, and Grandma and Grandpa Gazzaway could not wait to get to Friendswood to see Stephen Mark. He had been born on January 9, 1979. It was immediately evident; a perfect match of parents and child had been made.

One of the fondest memories I have of Truett is seeing him play in the floor with Stephen. Truett was truly a happy grandfather and Stephen dearly loved his Grandpa Ray.

At about four o'clock in the morning on August 1, 1980, the phone awakened me. It was Estelle, I knew immediately something was wrong. She said, "Come quick, something is wrong with Truett." then she hung up. Lois and I dressed and got to her as quickly as we could. Truett had passed away in his sleep. Estelle had thought he was having a nightmare and tried to wake him up, to no avail.

Truett had visited with me at Holmes Car Clinic the day before when he came by to air up his spray tank that he used in his work as an exterminator for Wise Chemical. He had enjoyed a cup of coffee with Lois when he had treated our house for roaches a few days earlier. He complained to both of us about the heat of the summer and talked of being tired, we had never heard him complain about anything before.

I left Holmes Car Clinic in June of 1981 and became manager of Mobile 2-Way Service Company, a Motorola Service Shop, located on South Main Street in Conroe. I told Lawrence Sanders, the owner of the company, which had a shop in Liberty and another in Beaumont, I would work for him until I was sixty two years old in February of 1987.