Raymond J DCamp - Engineer, Musician, Friend

I played my first tuba concert since 1983 yesterday at the Michigan Tech (Houghton, Michigan) Tuba Christmas concert. I have quite a bit of work to do to get back into any kind of playing shape, but it was very enjoyable.

I learned today after an Internet search that a good friend of mine, Ray DCamp, lost his battle to lung cancer. Ray was an incredible musician, coming from a very musical family. He was also a first class engineer. We were the tuba section for the last few iterations of the Detroit Diesel Allison Concert Band from 1980-1983.

Unfortunately, due to other priorities I gave up playing in early 1984.

I found out about Ray's status by contacting his former band director in the Brazil Concert Band.

Here is the conversation with Mr. Huber:

To: jimn
Subject: Ray DCamp

Dear Mr. Northey,

Thank you for inquiring about my friend and musical colleague, Ray DCamp. Unfortunately, Ray lost his battle to lung cancer and passed away at home nearly five years ago now.

As you know, Ray was an extremely fine tuba player; one of the best I ever had the pleasure of performing with in my nearly 30 years as a conductor.

Ray made the trip to Brazil for many years to play in the Brazil Concert Band. We have a rather large tuba section (8) and Ray served as Principal Tuba/Section leader.

For years he came to the State Solo and Ensemble contest in Indianapolis to hear our son John Philip Huber perform. Ray died during the fall of John's junior year in high school. Ray had given John the music for the Herbert L. Clarke arrangement of "Carnival of Venice" to perform at contest that year. John nailed a perfect score at district and at the state that January/February playing on the exact music Ray had given him. We always thought Ray was in the room with us that contest year. John is now a senior euphonium major at Indiana State University.

Ray's widow sprinkled Ray's ashes in the flowers and bushes which are in front of the Forest Park Band Shell here in Brazil. She called me and said Ray was already at band rehearsal.

Ray was 70 when he died. I still keep in contact with his brother, Dr. Charles DCamp, a retired college band director in Iowa.

If you looked at our web site brazilconcertband.org you will see that we recorded two CDs of music by Fred Jewell. Ray played on the first CD back in 2003. There is an order blank if you would care to get one.

If and when you are in this part of Indiana in the summer, please come to one of our concerts and bring your tuba. One of my tuba men still plays his EEb sousaphone with my two concert bands.

-Musically yours,

Matthew S. Huber
Director of Bands
Brazil Concert Band
Jackson Township Community Band

My Reply

Matthew

Wow – it was amazing. I believe it was either 2003 or 2004 – I just got the urge to get back into music and called Ray to see if he had any horns for sale. Things did not sound good when I spoke to him. But we had a great conversation, reminisced about our old band days and working at Allison Gas Turbine Division of G.M. together. It seem like we both knew we wouldn’t be speaking to each other (on this side anyway) when we concluded the call.

If you don’t mind I will look at your concert schedule and would like to get back in touch with you to find out the set list – so I could practice and sit in with the band as a memorial to Ray. My in-laws are in Plainfield and we look for reasons to get down that way. We live in the UP. I just played Tuba Christmas up here at Michigan Tech for the first time. Resumed playing just about a month ago after a 25 year hiatus. Prior to this my last time playing was when Ray and I played with a community band in Crawfordsville.

Thank you very much for bring me up to date on Ray’s life. He was a great musician and a great friend.

Looking forward to participating in a concert with the Brazil band in 2010.

Best Regards,
Jim Northey

Ray DCamp (left) shown here with Mr. Matthew Huber

The Brazil Concert Band (Brazil, Indiana)

My sister's eulogy for our father - James Earle Northey Sr. November 1, 2009

My Dad was many things, welder, golfer, poker player (we all know what a poker player he was), devoted son, brother, uncle, nephew, cousin, grandfather, great-grandfather, father-in-law, friend, soul-mate but most of all, father.
He was always sure of wanted he wanted, even in death, and one of his requests was that he not have a minister or lay person speak at his service, so given that request my brother and I have been given the honor and blessing of telling you about our Dad. And so as my Heavenly Father promises in Phil 4:13 “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
As I have been writing my thoughts of my Dad over the last few days – yesterday I realized that all the things I have been thinking were relayed to me in one way or another by the many friends and family that came to pay they respects.
The legacy that this wonderful man is leaving behind leaves me in awe just as in life in he so many times left me in awe.
He was larger than life – no matter who he was with or where he was once you met Jim Northey you remembered him. His smile and laugh were so genuine. Another thing I heard so many times yesterday “I’ll never forget that smile”, it was what drew people to him. His wit and charm and his ability to tell jokes and stories that made you think he was talking about himself until the end when you realized it was a joke and you would just crack-up laughing.
I was and always will be amazed by his many talents, no matter what he set his mind to he accomplished. My brother is like him in many ways when it comes to being artistic, musical, crafty, etc., I on the hand cannot draw stick people or carry a tune but I believe inherited one true gift from my Dad and that is to love people and he was a lover of people. He was most happy when surrounded by many.
They say we are all born in the roles that we are to play in life – I was born to be in the shadow of two Jim Northey’s, my Dad and my Brother. This is the role that growing up I wasn’t so happy with but as an adult have come to cherish as I have learned over the years I may be in their shadow but to the both of them I am at the top of their list and loved by them as no others could love me. Although today, my brother decided he would let me go first for a change.
My brother and I only lived with my Dad for a brief time and I remember when it came time for him to make what was probably one of the hardest decisions he probably ever made, he asked us if we couldn’t live with him where would we want to live. My brother without hesitation replied Grandma Silverthorn’s, Grandma Silverthorn’s, I on the other hand suggested that we live with the Queen of England because my father made me to believe that I was truly a princess which is what he called me most of the time.
I remember asking my mother why she named me such a snotty sounded name like Tamara Aileen at which she replied “your Dad named you”. Funny thing is I can never remember him using my given name when he spoke to me. It was always princess, pumpkin, doll baby, sis and his most favorite of late, babe.
People have asked over the years how I could have such a great relationship with a man that did not raise us. My answer was and always will be, “He gave us the greatest gift of all, a stable home where we were loved and cared for beyond belief.”
My father tried to excel at everything he did in life and his way of excelling as a father was to realize that he was not able to take care of us on a day to day basis in person but never once was he not there when we needed him – a phone call was all it took. Never once did he give up his responsibility of being our Dad.
It was very hard the past couple of years watching this evil disease slowly drain the life out of his body but not once did he complain, he didn’t understand it but he never complained.
Just before he was diagnosed I truly believe he got together, after all these years, with his soul-mate and I want to take this time publicly to thank Susie for all the love and care she gave to him. She was a godsend to us and we will never be able to repay her for all she did. My father once told me that he wished he had meant her fifty years ago, at which of course, I replied “then you wouldn’t have Jim and me.” So again Susie thank you so much and we love you.
Jim Northey was a great man who’s death has left a void in many lives but he also left us a great legacy and I know by the number of people that are here today, were here yesterday and the many lives he touched his legacy will live on. And so I close with this – I love you Daddy and you will never be gone in spirit or in my heart and I thank you Lord Jesus for giving me the best Dad ever.


Tammi and Dad

Eulogy for my father James E. Northey Sr. November 1, 2009

For part of my life it was not easy being the son of someone bigger than life. Our father, brother, uncle, grandfather, great grandfather, friend, and co-worker was one of the most naturally gifted human beings any of us will ever get an opportunity to meet. He was an artisan, an athlete, an artist, a story teller, and a man about town. I have no doubt that under different circumstances, if he did not have a son come along at age 16 and had he decided not to marry my mom and join the Navy, he would have been able to play professional baseball. I can remember when he came over to our house in South Bend and we were playing some baseball with Jacob in the back yard. Jacob hit the ball to my dad’s right and dad made this incredible move to catch the ball that involved something like a near cartwheel, caught the ball and ended up on his feet. We all looked on in awe.

Most of us have some artefact of his incredible talent that we will be able to hold onto to remind us of him on a daily basis. By his works – he is part of all of us and he consciously knew this. We have paths of faith and works and he clearly was comfortable with the latter.

Extremely charismatic, there were few situations he couldn’t talk himself into or out of. It seemed as though there was nothing he could not create, except possibly a little peace for himself. He was a restless soul full of ambition and drive. And as with many blessed with great talents and abilities he also carried with him flaws and seeds of his own undoing – but let us not dwell on these now. Instead, let’s focus on his incredible life and take time now to celebrate this unique individual who impacted us so greatly and who an extended family and a wonderful community will miss dearly.

Those that cut a broad swath through life – leave a large void in their wake.

Toughness

My dad was tough, much tougher than me. I remember one night –I was staying at Brian’s house on Delaware St. while I was working in Chicago and finishing graduate school after we had moved to the UP. Late one night we got a telephone call, “come get your dad he is at the V and wants to fight someone.” Brian and I looked at each other. Now keep in mind, I wouldn’t recommend any of you tangle with either Brian or me and that isn’t the point of the story. But, we both looked at each other and said, how are we going to get him out of the V and get him home while remaining somewhat unscathed and not being maimed?

Even during the first couple of years after diagnosis from ALS he still could outwork most people I know as he continued his renovation and ceramic tile work.

For those of you who weren’t there toward the end – this incredibly punishing disease, ALS, made every breath a near impossibility. Yet, as with all challenges he previously faced he fought and persevered. ALS is a mysterious disease. There is no known cause. A very small percentage is hereditary. However, there are correlations between the disease and certain groups, those serving in the military and endurance athletes. It is not unreasonable to speculate, and dad and I discussed this more than one time, that the shear will in pushing one’s self physically beyond normal human limits may indeed create within the body its own destructive mechanism leading to ALS. And no one pushed themselves harder than my dad. He was an iron man – just like Lou Gehrig – who serves as the namesake for this disease.

My dad’s passing was probably postponed by his shear will and strength. So we had time to prepare, to say what needed to be said.

Finally, when he could no longer sustain the battle, hospice was brought in, and never the underachiever he completed the entire hospice program completely in less than 24 hours.

Family and Friends

My father, through thick and thin remained committed and devoted to his family. It was many years before I realized that he very purposely moved very close to Tammi and I when we were in high school as our maternal grandfather Willard’s health failed. He became a very important and regular part of our lives.

I only saw my dad cry one time and that was when he and I talked about having Tammi and I move back to our maternal grandparents when I was nine years old and Tammi was eight.

The devotion my dad and his siblings had to each other is unparalleled and has served as a wonderful example for the next generations.

I would ask you that we still here and those of us in the next generations commit to maintaining this active connection. And by family I just don’t mean those connected by blood – many of you here are our family connected by something as important and that is life.

As for the next generation of course, to borrow Al Haig’s line from nearly thirty years ago, with my dad’s passing I am in charge here now, whenever my cousin Linda and my sister Tammi are not around or they let me be.

Message

We are all born with a great friend and that friend’s name is death.
Death tells us not to waste time because time is fleeting. Death is constantly telling us not to take anything for granted as tomorrow is not guaranteed. Death tells us to be kind. Death tells us that in due time all things will be known, and few important (to borrow a phrase from Gore Vidal). Death reminds us that we should be present in the moment and make sure those around us that we care about and love know how we feel about them while there is still time.

So embrace this yin to the yang of life and walk hand in hand with death – for by doing so – you will be able to live beyond all imagination fully in the moment.
We all need to ask ourselves, who do you need to talk to? What do you need to set right? What have you been putting off that you should do today?

Conclusion

So now back to my opening statement. Everyone that knows our immediate family saw that at some point it not only became easier to be my father’s namesake, it became a wonderful gift. So what was it that made this unenviable second act much easier to bear? At some point in my 20s I realized that I could not be him. For instance, I could only take one night in the Hobart jail. For those of you that don’t know – they don’t let you go when you think you are ready to leave.

So I began to work very hard to set off on my own path, largely intellectual, where I could carve out my own place in life. My dad not only supported this he took great pride as I found my own identity separate from his. My partner and best friend and wife Sonia can tell you that it was not easy for me to shed some of the demons and habits I shared with my dad. But my dad’s love for me and Tammi allowed him to accept each of us as we are. His expectations remained high but he also tempered these with love and understanding.
My firmest belief is that my dad was always at his best when he was being our father.

And now the tough part...

Rest well our beloved star shone brightly withering all too soon.

You have more than earned your peace and eternal rest.
We will keep you alive in our souls recounting your stories, antics, and accomplishments – sharing them with generations yet to come.

I just want you to know that you were always at your best when it came to being a father to your children and a brother to your siblings and a friend to your friends.

And you will be mightily missed by us all.

I love you dad.

Studs Terkel October 31, 2008

I first heard of Studs Terkel driving back from Purdue University in the late 1970s. Always an insomniac I had stopped by to visit friends on one of my regular trips northward from Indianapolis to my home in East Gary, Indiana (okay Lake Station). I was listening to this very late night talk show on one of the Chicago AM radio stations, some guy named Larry King. Studs was on talking about his book Working. I was struck by his eloquence, his admiration for the common man, his focus on historical context. When I started working in Chicago in the mid-1980's, having thrown in the towel on the conservative Indianapolis, many of my sensibilities were informed by those of Studs. A show man. An intellect. He would share his outrage at the many injustices he saw around him in the city that he loved. He attributed years later to his ego, but he would not put his activism or his beliefs aside in the 1950's only to find himself black listed during the McCarthy period. He wore this as a badge of honor.
Some of the negligible few that read this will know that I was largely raised by my maternal grandparents, Willard and Bessie Silverthorn. They were FDR Democrats through and through. In many ways I was raised in a bit of a time warp - the stories I grew up with were the stories from the 1930's and 40's. So it was then that I read with great attention Stud's book from 1970, Hard Times: An Oral History of the Great Depression. Studs as was his master craft selected a careful cross section of eye witnesses to the Great Depression, from a farmer in Iowa, to a member of FDR's cabinet, and to a Pullman railroad worker that went on to encourage Martin Luther King Jr's activism and would hire as his secretary. Rosa Parks, while working at the NAACP.
Studs was far from one of those dour harbingers of despair and disappointment. His sense of humor and his spirit were indefatigable surpassed only by his creativity. Not so many years ago, Sonia and I were driving home from Chicago listening to WBEZ FM radio and they were replaying one of Stud's radio programs from the 1960's which was a satire on modern culture - where the author, played by one of his assistants, was describing her work. Hillarious, inventive, delightful, even though it made an important point, the entertainment value was what shined through.
Studs stayed on in Chicago and contined to be a voice of justice and reason, never taking himself too seriously and never missing an opportunity for some grand display of his wisdom and understanding of the human condition, nor missing an opportunity to lampoon our collective sillyness and irrationality. Studs was Chicago. And Chicago was better for it. We were all blessed that he was afforded such a long and productive life. God rest ye merry gentleman. You live on in your words and your spirit.

William F. Buckley Jr. February 27, 2008

I grew up in Northwest Indiana raised by FDR democrat grandparents. My grandfather was a local politician. I remember as a tike Indiana Senator Vance Hartke coming to our house. Throughout the 60's and the early 70's, I was socialized to the oft said phrase, "when are they (the government) going to do something about this or that". I remember my grandfather disapproving of Nixon.

So in the late 70's, not unlike today, with energy issues, seemingly insurmountable foreign conflicts, the decline of US power, and an abysmal economy embroiled in stagflation, I started to go through a transformation. From my liberal upbringing, I began to believe the big business (such as the steel mills and GM) and the government weren't going to take care of you, nor should they be expected to do so. Reagan was elected. I started reading books by the conservative thought leaders of the time. One of them was William F. Buckley Jr. Our backgrounds could not have been more different. WFB was from an east coast family of privilege. My midwestern steelworker family was at times poor and when we weren't we weren't far from it due to my grandfather's failing health. The ideas, the reasoning, the ease and humor. The vocabulary. Firing Line became a favorite show. From being a charter subscriber to Mother Jones magazine while in High School, I subscribed to the National Review in college. My grandmother stayed very involved in local democratic politics in Lake County, Indiana and never accepted my Republicanism.

Of course in many ways the conservatives of that time seem like moderates now and even though I am now an independent voter and a moderate I still wear the mantle of a Reagan Republican. And of course I try not to look to close at the actual performance of the Reagan Administration, preferring to remember it as a time that transformed America and returned us to greatness. I can forgive them for growing government more than their liberal counterparts did. I still struggle with our treatment of Latin America, especially its leaders immediately following the power transfer from the human rights and sovereignty honoring, but incompetent, Carter administration. But for a brief time there was a political movement that believed in individualism, in minimizing government, keeping a strong defense, and in promoting free markets.

As Dick Cavett said in his column, We are Bill's children, all.

Quotes from the man himself

Norman Mailer November 10, 2007

Norman Mailer - like Hemingway became a larger than life character. Mailer more so than Hemingway at times overshadowed his own works. He did not sit on the sidelines - a pioneer in participative journalism, he laid the groundwork for Hunter S. Thompson. Starting out as a novelist, he helped create the genre of creative non-fiction. He was a life long activist, often choosing the unpopular side of controversial issues. He seemed to revel in evoking animosity. No matter how you felt about Mailer and his opinions, he definitely helped shape the discussions and confronted America with issues that they would have otherwise wanted to avoid or sweep under the carpet.

So a folk song to Norman Mailer:

Look around me and what do you see, Norman Mailer looking down on me

Could it be his right hand, acting like he was a boxing man

A poor soldier who would go onto fight a bruising ego with all of his might

He saw himself so clearly, in novels obscured by reality

Scorned you once in the seventies view you now with empathy

Look around you what do you see Norman Mailer looking down on thee.

John Morris - Steelworker, family man, thinker

When I finally decided to try and not be a wild animal - it was my dad and my Uncle John's intelligence and friendship that helped me transition into a what has been a wonderful and colorful life. For this I am blessed.

When my Uncle John heard that I wanted my Dad's cement mixer, he took the time to rebuild it - installing a new motor, belt, and even a new coat of paint.

I don't use the term polymath lightly. The common definition is:
pol·y·math (pŏl'ē-māth') Pronunciation Key
n. A person of great or varied learning.

This term can be applied to both my father and my Uncle John. Though neither were educated much beyond high school, they both were very learned men. In any area of technology, in finance, in life they both used their extreme intelligence to better themselves and those around them.

Well, I didn't get that cement mixer picked up from Uncle John's house until after the funeral. I will just have to put it to use putting in the floor in the stable.