Patricia Ray

Patricia “Pat” Buchanan Ray

Pat Ray was born Patricia Carol Buchanan on April 21, 1935, in Los Angeles, California. She was the first child born to Ira Carrell “Carl” Buchanan and Eunice Munk Buchanan.

Pat grew up in Arizona where she graduated from Mesa High School in 1953.

As a lifelong member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints she married her sweetheart Clinton Demar Ray for time and all eternity in the Mesa, Arizona temple on April 6, 1954.

Pat and Demar were blessed with three children: Larilyn Ray, Demar Clinton Ray and Cherri Lyn Ray.

Pat is survived by her daughter Cherri Lyn House, grandchildren Stuart Morgan Ray, Luke Mason House, Miriam Elizabeth House, Ashlee Noel House, Melissa Ray House, and brothers Ronald Mason Buchanan and Philip Douglas Buchanan. Pat is also survived by twelve great grandchildren.

Pat's husband Demar built race engines for his profession. This work eventually took them to Houston, Texas. It was in Texas that Pat and Demar assumed the responsibility and raised their grandson, Stuart. Pat loved Stuart as a son.

In addition to her duties as a wife and mother, Pat worked as an accountant for Southland Corporation (7-11) and for Grocer Supply, among others.

Pat lost her husband and eternal companion Demar, to a heart attack on February 29, 1992. Despite her loss she stood firm in the faith of her Lord Jesus the Christ, ever buoyed by her pioneer heritage; that strong inheritance that ran through her soul.

In 2010 Pat’s “son” Stuart moved her to Ankeny, Iowa out of concern for her health and safety. Stuart helped Pat find and purchase a home at 2248 SW 35th Street.

Pat developed crippling arthritis and in 2015 Stuart helped buy her a motorized scooter so she could better get around and still walk her dear dog Tango.

In late 2024 she could no longer care for Tango and had to give him to another family.

In early November while home alone, Pat fell and was badly injured. Stuart found her there unconscious, no doubt saving her life. Following hospitalization Pat was moved to The Bridges at Ankeny where she underwent a couple weeks of therapy. Following therapy Stuart arranged for Pat to have a permanent room there at Bridges. True to form Pat picked out a room at the end of a corridor. Remember, she had been living alone since Demar's death in 1992 and wasn't about to change.

On February 14, 2025, Pat fell in her room and suffered head, arm, and leg injuries. Later that evening Pat passed away in her sleep just sixty-six days short of her 90th birthday.

As a child Pat was always helpful, close to her mother and ready and willing to do and to learn. She was quite inquisitive and often mischievous. As her brother I could tell stories of how she would get ideas. I would go along with them and because I did it, I often felt the toe of my dad's boot!

Seeing Pat as a victim of crippling arthritis, you would never suspect that she grew up to be the tallest of the family. Pat inherited her mother's genes. The Munk's were the first of Danish pioneers to settle in what would become Manti, Utah. Pat really resembled her mother's mother, Annie Caroline Munk. Our mother's brothers were both cowmen, real cowboys, and both were over six feet tall. Giants to the Buchanan clan.

While serving his church mission our father Ira contracted malaria. When World War 2 started in 1941 dad wanted to join up and fight for his country but due to his malaria, they would not take him. He and mother were farming and ranching at the time. The recruiting officer told dad that they needed his dairy milk as much as they needed him. In 1942 our dad and grandfather Buchanan leased a small ranch and dairy in Miller Valley, just outside Prescott, Arizona. It was there that I started school, and Pat attended the third grade. The ranch was a way out of the small town of Miller Valley and the school bus did not drive down the ranch road. Pat and I had to walk up about ½ mile to catch the bus. That winter I remember helping dad build us a sled. He drilled a hole in the front for a rope. When the snow came mother bundled Pat up and sat her on that small sled. Dad tied the end of a lasso rope to the sled then dallied the other end around the saddle horn. I sat on granddad's old white horse Tony, and off we went through the snow up to meet the school bus. When we arrived at the bus stop, we took the rope off the saddle horn, slapped old Tony on the rump, and he would return to the barn. Later in the day when dad went to town, he would pick up the sled and rope. We were ready for the next day.

As noted, Pat was three years, three months older than I was. When I was born, she had a little baby brother. Pat helped mother bathe me and change my diapers. There weren’t disposable diapers in those days. Diapers were made of layered cotton material that was washed out by hand and hung out to dry. That's where the saying, “hung out to dry” comes from. The last times Pat and I were together in person or by phone we would joke about those experiences.

Pat loved being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. As well, she loved the Gospel of Jesus Christ. She loved serving in her callings and always did her very best. That trait was who she was. Pat was a student of scripture; especially loving to read the Book of Mormon. Later when her eyes were not so good she always listened to scripture audio.

Pat loved the sisters of her ward and especially loved attending the temple whenever possible.

On her last temple trip, she was greatly aided by her Relief Society sisters. We will be ever grateful for their sweet loving help. Pat was always excited to do proxy work for our families and would report when the ordinance work was complete. Return and report: a Gospel Principle.

Pat's obituary would not be complete without mentioning two special people.

Pat dearly loved her great-granddaughter Morgan Marie Ray and Morgan loved and respected Pat. Almost every time we spoke, Pat told me of Morgan's accomplishments. Pat loved all of her children, but she was especially close to, fond and proud of Morgan.

The second person I must mention is Stuart Ray. Stuart was Pat's strong right arm. She was his mom, period! His loyalty, love, and allegiance to Pat knew no bounds. In today's world personal loyalty to parents is sometimes brushed aside by children. It seems there is something missing in those who speak or behave poorly toward those mothers who brought them into mortality. I believe that missing ingredient is Love.

Stuart Morgan Ray has always shown through his actions, his unending Christ like love for his mom; Patricia Ray. There can be no doubt that Pat is ever grateful for his loyalty and love. The day will come when he will again hold her in his arms and she will whisper in his ear her eternal love for him.

We celebrate the life of Pat Ray, her Love of God, and for the Love of the Lord Jesus Christ.