Missed chances from Ray Benson’s childhood

It never fails: Publish a book about somebody and people will show up as soon as it appears, relating stories you wish you’d heard in time to use. That happened a fair amount when “Losering” came out three years ago, and the pattern is holding with “Comin’ Right at Ya,” too.

After an excerpt from the book appeared in this past Sunday’s News & Observer, I heard from a gentleman named David Weiss, who lives in my neck of the woods nowadays but knew subject/star/co-writer Ray Benson in suburban Philadelphia way back when. He had a few tales and details about Ray’s childhood that would have been great to try and work in. Too late for that now, but at least I can share them here. Writes David:

I grew up across the street from the Seifert clan. Ray’s older brother Mike was my best friend from the time we were 4 years old all the way through high school. Little brother Ray was always tagging along with us (even though we tried to ditch him most of the time). I last saw Ray at Mike’s funeral several years ago and was pleasantly surprised by how warmly he greeted me, considering that we weren’t always very nice to him as the tag-along little brother.

The Seifert house was such a wonderful contrast to my own home across the street that I spent most of my time there. I said at Mike’s funeral that Bobbie (Mrs. Seifert) probably felt like she had five kids instead of just her own four. Their house was always filled with music. Bobbie Seifert was very creative and artistic, and Mike was an all-county saxophone, clarinet and recorder player. Funny that I don’t recall Ray being particularly musical as a child.

Their household was also, to put it politely, chaotic. You could jump from the open stairwell onto the living room couches with your shoes on (which we often did) and nobody said a word. Ray was as accident-prone as anyone I ever knew. Whenever he showed up at Chestnut Hill Hospital emergency room it was, “Ray, are you back again?” He split his chin open on a trampoline, got a large fish hook stuck through his finger, was hit in the head with a pipe. I’m sure there were other incidents that Ray may remember better than I do.

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One thought on “Missed chances from Ray Benson’s childhood

  1. Pingback: Asleep at the Pier | Losering Books

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