"RRRRRRRalph?!"

Those of us who own and listen to radio scanners know the voice well. No "Base to Unit One," no station ID, just the sound of Maxine's voice cutting through the fog or snow like a lighthouse laser beam. As Ralph usually needed to think about what his wife was in need of, there was usually a pause, something Maxine hated. Then another semi blood curdling "RRRRRRRalph?!" Then a meek voice would answer. Usually the answer was not an answer at all, but a confirmation that he had gotten the message: a) one of the trucks was stuck or b) one of the trucks broke down or c) somebody forgot to pickup somebody's garbage as they had been told to or d) Maxine had heard something on the news or on the phone or e) a weather update or f) the score of a game.
The past several years Ralph was not out in the truck, but home in his wheelchair, his body worn out from getting into and out of his trucks, from riding on the side or back, from lifting heavy cans, from reaching for the radio to answer Maxine. To me Ralph was the epitome of dependablility, something it seems to me one can depend on less and less these days. He was the epitome of loyalty, to his family, job, community, church and teams. Ralph did not complain. Ralph did what he did, without question, well. He was also one of the first in line to help. Ralph's pride bubbled to the surface five years ago when his family owned company celebrated fifty years. The pride was justified.
These days the Lighthouse Laser Voice is calling through the darkness for "EveRRRRRRRett!?" Maxine will be home alone waiting for the answer. Our condolences to the Ballards and our thanks to Ralph for his many years of exemplary service. Rest in peace Ralph. Lord knows if anybody has earned a rest, it's you.

(There is no online condolence register for Ralph. The Fargo Forum, in contrast to the papers in Bismarck and Grand Forks, does not yet subscribe to legacy.com. Nor does the Pelican Press. Maxine likes cards, PO Box 386, 56572)