A Hero Named Ray by Mark Spencer

Mrs. Jackson I am writing about your husband Ray
How he died serving his country, and how he saved us all today.

The men saw him as colored, just another Negro cook.
They never really tried to take a deeper look.

They labeled him a coward, as they said were all his race.
They claimed he, and his people, needed to know their place.

Yet Ray kept right on smiling, his spirit never broke.
And if you were feeling low, he was quick to tell a joke.

But today no one was laughing, when the ship went on alert,
As twenty men were killed and many more were hurt.

A Japanese squadron cut us off from the fleet.
We tried to buy some time, but our efforts met defeat.

Then, through a hail of bullets, Ray ran out on the deck,
To the anti-aircraft turret where he earned each man's respect.

He brought down seven zeros, and bought time for his crew,
As the fleet came to our rescue, a braver man, I never knew.

But a kamikaze pilot brought Ray’s life to a close.
Though not before he won the day, and saved us from our foes.

He saved my ship and my life, I am in awe of Ray.
For I had never met a hero, but I damn sure did today

Kristy (12.96.223.171) -- Thursday, February 13 2003, 04:32 am

That was an excellent poem... very well writtin and very touching. Great job. :)

ryan (24.153.177.14) -- Thursday, February 13 2003, 04:45 am

all i can say is wow way better than any of mine

Martin Vann (63.208.45.250) -- Friday, February 14 2003, 12:18 am

Ray was Black, yesterday, Thank God today, its only Freedom Red!
Black is black, White is White, Red is Red, but Red, oh, a color all fighting men understand! I read your words Mark, to Mrs. Jackson, about her husband Ray. How ahead of your time you were, to see nothing but red. Ray was an American, yet, his life in time of war was colored Black. Our Government said, let's use them, we know that they can work, it is their heritage.

Oh? I say, men are not visitors upon this earth without a right to stay, each has earned the right to breath fresh air, other wise they would not be here. Yet, we still forget because their skin is BLACK, their history was not founded upon any American shore. Ray was black and his modern history I presume, was slavery, tilling fields of cotton, making it reach the sun and bloom. Ray never had time to think of freedom, or where his life began, the dark continent, a profit center as we whites would call it in todays, terms. Just a source of slave labor. I wonder why, Ray enlisted, perhaps he thought, if I must sweat and labor, I should do so and get paid, real dollars, hey we all believe in that today! These dollars, Ray could send home, back to his wife, to pay some bills, or feed a child, hell, I don't really know. However, Ray was a man of action not words, no matter the place of birth and I doubt he ever thought about his color on that faithful day.

Ray was but a cook. He labored down below us, where some yes, I was one, felt he belonged. But when the crisis happened, he rose above so many of us, Ray answered courage's call. Why did Ray save so many of us? His name, by our captain I don't think was ever called. He should be down below us, after all, he was black, and nothing but our cook.

By god this man was a man, he was salvation to so many of us, lesser men, so very small, not at all like Ray.

Mrs. Jackson, may I bow before your feet, and tell you I am puoud to be an American more so than ever on this day. I will never forget his courage, or the abuse we/I put him through. I don't know what was in his heart that day, but had it not been for your husband Ray, a black cook, who showed me what America is, well, Mrs. Jackson I would not be here today. I think he should have been awarded the Medal Of Honor, for what he did for us that day. Yet still, "we" know the color Red, but congress, still sees black.

To Mark Spencer, you are pounding on America's heart, its good I think, we feel the pain we gave, now onto ourselves!

Martin Vann

LinzAy (152.163.201.197) -- Friday, February 14 2003, 08:10 am

......
Awesome poem Mark...i loved the last two lines

Mark Spencer (205.188.208.135) -- Saturday, February 22 2003, 01:49 am

Bigotry
A HERO NAMED RAY points out the kind of bigotry that black sailors were up against in World War Two. The difference between blacks and whites who served in the military at that time, was that whites were fighting for their freedom, while blacks were fighting for second class obscurity. There was a lot more to motivate the whites. Some blacks felt (and rightly so) that if Hitler won, would they be treated any different by him than the way they were already being treated in their own country and by their own military? I know that a few will hate me for this poem, but it has to be said. Someone has to point out that hating someone you don't even know, simply because of race, creed or color, is a stone age practice perpetrated by people with small minds and extremely limited vision. I should know, I was once that way myself. But then I grew up and shook off the influence of those that taught me to hate. So having been immersed in both perspectives, I felt I could tell this story with a full perception of how Ray would have been perceived before and after the event. I dedicate this poem to those unsung heroes like Ray who we never heard about. That doesn't mean they weren't real, that they didn't exist. They did exist. They did die. And they were heroes. Had it not been for small minds, with extremely limited vision, you would have heard their stories along with the other heroes of their day. Thank you Kristy, Ryan, Martin and LinzAy for your comments. You are appreciated.

Mark

Lori Ann Day (198.81.26.104) -- Saturday, February 22 2003, 02:20 am

Your love for mankind does not depend upon skin colour.
What a beautiful poem!

Justus Isaiah Richardson (172.133.122.207) -- Monday, May 5 2003, 01:31 am

Heroism is not race specific.
It's funny how racial preference determined who was called a hero and who was not. My grandfather was a cook in World War II. And my parents still get disapproving glances when they go out. People don't like mixed marriages, they just keep it to themselves a little better these days. Yeah, prejudice is still alive and well in America, on both sides of the color line.

Wayfarer (198.81.26.73) -- Sunday, June 1 2003, 11:07 pm

Doris "Dorie" Miller
When his Captain was mortally wounded at Pearl Harbor, He manned a 50 caliber Browning anti-aircraft machine gun until he ran out of ammunition and was ordered to abandon ship. That ship was the West Virginia. In 1943 he was assigned to the Liscome Bay, which was an escort carrier. A Japanese torpedo struck the aircraft bomb magazine, which detonated. The ship sank within minutes. Miller was listed as missing, along with over 600 other sailors. One year and one day later, they were officially presumed dead. I see Dorie Miller in your Ray character. Is that who inspired this piece?

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