Crazy Ray
by Joe Hickman,
editor, HaLife.com
I miss Crazy
Ray already.
Maybe you
heard. Wilford Jones died on March 17 at age 76.
"Crazy Ray" entertained decades
of football fans and became a Dallas
institution in chaps and a white hat as the
Cowboys' unofficial mascot. Every week 55,000 fans loved Crazy
Ray.
But most only
loved him on Sundays.
In the 1970s,
Wilford Jones shined shoes for a living, and supplemented his
income by making children laugh.
I was a
deejay at KBOX. Almost every promotion event we staged included
Ray, the Bird Man. He whistled like a bird. A hyperactive bird.
He showed up
for everything, from station softball games to the annual Dallas Boat
Show at Market Hall.
At a softball
game, he would sit in the stands wearing his tall stovepipe hat with
the faucet in front.
And he'd
whistle.
And make
balloon animals.
With Ray
around, we disc jockeys could relax. The kids would be
entertained for hours.
To be honest,
I didn't really enjoy public appearances. But Ray always made them
fun for me, too. I actually looked forward to working the Trout
Tank at the boat
show with Ray. He helped each child try to catch a trout as
though each one was the most important child in town.
In the past
20 years or so, I ran into Ray frequently in the neighborhood.
We shopped at the same supermarket.
Ray and his Washington Redskin counterpart, both in costume,
would stroll into the supermarket for snacks after the
Cowboys-Redskins game.
For the past
few years, Ray made balloon animals almost every day at Wal-Mart.
You could see
him coming, riding his motorized wheel chair across the St.
Francis bridge that spanned I-30.
Inside
Wal-Mart, he would sit on that chair for hours, twisting
balloons into animals and chatting with children lined up behind
him. Most would get a poodle hat they could wear while Mom shopped.
Wal-Mart just
hasn't been the same lately. After heart surgery and losing his
sight last August, Ray was no longer able to keep children scurrying around
in balloon hats.
Everyone
loved Crazy Ray at the Dallas Cowboy games on Sundays. They
would have loved him even more the rest of the week.
When
I called my
friend Dr. John yesterday, he was a little down. "Sure
going to miss Crazy Ray," he said.
"He has
called me almost every day since I lost my sight," John
said.
Dr. John had been blind for over ten years.
We will all
miss Crazy Ray, this gentle soul who made us laugh and feel good.
Some will
miss him very much.
