Ray Lyle
WHS class of 1954
I lost track of Ray after we finished Sunday School and youth group years in the 1940's at the 1st Congregational church, Waukesha.
We had been close childhood friends then. I did not hang out with Ray during WHS days. I can't remember why not.
(Sally von Briesen wrote here after the obit appeared: "I remember being in the musical "New Moon" with Ray Lyle, Susie Tradewell, Jerry Larson, Frankie Marzocco, my sister Judy Martin, and many others. Judy Morey, for one, It was a big cast. Ray had the lead." See photo above, Ray on the right.
I do remember Ray as kind and friendly with a great singing voice.
When I heard of him from time to time in later life I thought it was cool of him to choose milkman as his career. I thought of him in that regard when I drove a Milwaukee Yellow Cab in the first half of the 1970's.
Those years spawned an enjoyment of writing simple Edgar Guest-style poems as follows from the Boynton Cab Co. union news letter, The Trip Ticket:
BECK'S MINIONS
(Frank Beck was the mgr of the cab company)
We are Beck’s
minions bold and brave
each day we go a-driving
And some are bald and some don’t shave
Yet all each day are striving
We pay our money and take our chance
Piloting Yellows by the seat of our pants
Through the maelstrom of traffic we fearlessly dance
And at flag-up our loads are still living
We cabbies are lowly, many assay
Our job does yield little station
The dregs of the work force, bottom-rungers, they say
Back-washed from proud civilization
But didn’t we cheer the maudlin, brace up the drunk?
Didn’t we ferry them all, dog, chippie and monk?
Didn’t we treat them as equals though some might have stunk?
Yes, with verve and no small dedication
So take heart, fellow driver, heed what’s here writ
You’re a hero, a champion, a darer with grit
That you can’t quote the market
Doesn’t matter one whit
It’s your guts that call forth admiration
I’m proud to be with you, black men and white
Together on call on the streets day and night
We perform our service. Getting rich? No not quite
Yet to us be there be joy and libation
Yet to us be there be joy and libation
[David Dix in Cab No. 202 8-1973]
each day we go a-driving
And some are bald and some don’t shave
Yet all each day are striving
We pay our money and take our chance
Piloting Yellows by the seat of our pants
Through the maelstrom of traffic we fearlessly dance
And at flag-up our loads are still living
We cabbies are lowly, many assay
Our job does yield little station
The dregs of the work force, bottom-rungers, they say
Back-washed from proud civilization
But didn’t we cheer the maudlin, brace up the drunk?
Didn’t we ferry them all, dog, chippie and monk?
Didn’t we treat them as equals though some might have stunk?
Yes, with verve and no small dedication
So take heart, fellow driver, heed what’s here writ
You’re a hero, a champion, a darer with grit
That you can’t quote the market
Doesn’t matter one whit
It’s your guts that call forth admiration
I’m proud to be with you, black men and white
Together on call on the streets day and night
We perform our service. Getting rich? No not quite
Yet to us be there be joy and libation
Yet to us be there be joy and libation
[David Dix in Cab No. 202 8-1973]
.............
Ray's dad was veterinarian Dr. Clyde Lyle. He had his clinic in the early days on Barstow Street across from now Discount Liquor, then Sears. That was adjacent to the old Stock Pavilion where as some of us will remember it was the scene of the Friday farmers coming to town.
Large turn-outs at the stock pavilion of farmers and their cattle where the beasts would be auctioned off to the highest bidder.
Then, according to Ray (told to us in Sunday School) his dad would move in with his castrating tools to neuter the steers.
Ray used to joke that his dad made a small fortune de-testicling these animals, lickety-spilt, right down the line. Ray got to help.
So:
RAY LYLE
rip
another 1954 classmate gone, not forgotten
