Daughter of public speaking professor says thanks

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Ralph Gray

I opened my RIT magazine (Spring 2014) to the Letters page and my breath caught in my throat as I read “Remembering Ralph Gray, professor of public speaking.”

Tears came to my eyes as I read the wonderful memories that Howard Hansen ’67 wrote about him and the kind words written last November (Winter 2013-14) by W.K. (Bill) Longcor ’69. Why? Because Ralph Gray was my dad!

I actually had him as my professor for public speaking when I was a student at RIT from 1971 to 1975. I, too, have many fond memories of his teaching style and the memorable way he told stories, introduced material and that he was a perfectionist… to the frustration of many of us students. He was that way at home, too. He built a harpsichord from scratch in the ’60s that I have in my living room now. In the bench is a bag with every spare part he had left over and a hand-written notebook tracking every minute he spent building, what each piece cost and even a list of the mistakes he found in the directions! This chart rivals any Excel spreadsheet I’ve seen.

This quest for perfection was always focused on bringing out the very best in each person he touched, whether it was a student or a daughter or son. I learned so much from him and he directed my life in ways he never knew because we lost him too early in June 1976 at the age of 53. Because of his inspiration and guidance, I started a speaking and training company called Frankly Speaking Inc. in 1994 to carry on the art of public speaking that he loved. Recently in a talk I was giving I referred to a demonstration I remember him doing in class to illustrate the distance between stars and planets in a galaxy. Those types of impressions don’t happen by accident.

Thank you for sharing the insights of others into what a remarkable man my dad, Ralph Gray, truly was. Some may remember that my mother, Josephine Gray, was an associate professor of language and thought and conference techniques during that time period, too. Together they sought to send every college student they touched out into the world with a command of the English language, knowing that it would never fail them.