President’s Message
October 1998
by
Roger Winston Bray, A.I.A., Architect, N.C.A.R.B.
I am living with a genius. I have lived with a genius for a very long time. Each day I am filled with wonder and astonishment about the simplicity and the infinite complexity of genius. I also recognize that I, like everyone else am capable of expressing this genius; each of us in our own way.
William M. Bray, A.I.A., Architect, N.C.A.R.B., expresses this genius more than any other man I have ever met. He is my father. To many of you reading this, he is your friend. Many of you know how kind he is, also how self-effacing he may appear to be. I have never known anyone less self-absorbed. Yet, his love for humanity, art, and architecture is constant and true. Personally, I have never known him to lose his temper, nor to say anything unkind to, or about anyone. To coin a phrase, “He is a such a nice guy!” At the same time, I have never known an individual architect who embodies the spirit of creativity, honor, rectitude, indefatigability, patience, perception, passion, decisiveness, integrity, endurance, strength, commitment, humility, insight and zeal. He truly loves his work and the people he serves and works with!
Why have I been given the opportunity to witness this first hand? I know that Life gives us all challenges and gifts. Quite often we are completely unaware of many of them. However, some time ago, I awakened to the opportunity that was given to me in the form of my relationship with my father. I believe this to be important to share with you, because if my father’s example helps just one individual continue to honestly strive to be kinder, and more committed to the advancement of the profession of architecture, then the world will be a better place to live in. If this occurs, this will be the greatest gift that I can give to our Chapter as President.
This would be the greatest gift that we, as representatives of Life, could give to ourselves and each other!
In memory of William M. Bray, A.I.A., Architect, N.C.A.R.B
December 1905 – September 1998