Olen Ray Thomas

Olen Ray was born September 1, 1933 in the community of Donaldson Creek, Ky, to John Cullen (Taylor) and Myrtle Chewning Thomas He was the youngest of 9 children.

Olen Ray attended a one room school, Lower Donaldson, until high school .He attended Trigg Country high school, graduating in 1951.

He then the attended Western Kentucky University briefly before serving in the Navy and Marines (3rd Division) in Okinawa as a hospital corpsman during the Korean War.

After 4 years of military service, he returned on the GI Bill to Western Kentucky, where he completed his pre-pharmacy degree then ultimately receiving his bachelors of pharmacy at the University of Kentucky in 1961.

In 1960, he and Martha Sue (Suzie) Holland were married. He began his career in pharmacy in Mayfield, Ky, with Wyatt then Wilson Rexall Drugs. He also worked at Duncan Drug store and Gibson Pharmacy. 37 years of his career was spent at Wilson Drug Store, business partners with Bill Benjamin.

Olen Ray was a member of First Baptist Church of Mayfield, Ky. He also considered himself a member of Donaldson Creek Baptist Church, his home church as a child and the church of his ancestors.

Olen Ray is survived by his wife of 65 years, Suzie, as well as his daughters, Dru Thomas Quarles MD, (husband, Robert Quarles, MD) and Holly Thomas, PA-C. He is also survived by his grandchildren, Anabelle, Sam, Brooks Cullen and Ashley Rowe-Parks Faulkner, all of Charlotte, NC.

Olen Ray is preceded in death by his parents as well as his brothers-Lonnie Douglas, Herschel, Guy and Fred Thomas, and his sisters-Thelma King, Ruth Meador, Eunice Sumner, and Lottie Mayche.

A service to honor Olen Ray’s life with will be held at Donaldson Creek Baptist Church, details to be announced, with internment at teh family cemetery in Donaldson Creek.

In lieu of flowers, Olen Ray requested donations be made to the Billy Graham Evangelical Association, Queen City Honor Flight or Donaldson Creek Baptist Church.

Online condolences may be shared at www.McEwenPinevilleChapel.com.

The following is a Eulogy for Olen Ray Thomas:

Olen Ray Thomas was born September 1st , 1933 , in the Donaldson Creek Community. He was the youngest of nine children of Myrt and Taylor Thomas, named after a revival preacher. He never really liked the name Olen, but I guess after naming 8 other children Myrt and Taylor were low on options. Although it was solidly the depression, the rural area where he lived was more similar to the post Civil War South. Their home had no plumbing, no electricity; they never had a car. Rain came through the roof and wind whistled through gaps in the floor. Taylor supported the family by cutting cross ties for the railroad, growing crops on their small parcel and digging ginseng. Olen Ray grew up farming and went to a one room school that taught every other year-so he started as a second grader and then became a first, etc. When he completed 5th grade he was off to town to high school, hitching a ride daily on the back of a truck. After the first day, he was so out of his element he told Myrt he was not going back. That didn’t fly with Myrt so back he went and He graduated high school in 1951, having channeled his shyness into books. His high school class was 35 people , and they remained close until his death. 2 remain in his class. After high school he was have liked to returned to the farm but he had a bossy older sister, Thelma, who (thankfully) saw his potential and would have none of that. Off to Western Ky University he went just as the Korean War was raging. His 3 older brothers were in the military and knowing the draft was coming for him, he enlisted in the Navy. By joining the Navy he thought he would avoid a more deadly infantry assignment. Being a bright ensign, he was chosen to be a medic, which was the most dangerous of all. (The Marines have no medics; they are on loan from the Navy- a medic is assigned to a platoon and moves through the jungle with them, the only unarmed man) Off to Parris island he went and then to Okinawa with the 3rd Marine division. In his 4 years in the Navy/Marines, he discovered his love of travel. On leave weekends, he hitched rides on military transport planes. He bought an Argus camera at the PX and started shooting kodachromes, everything from the Taj Mahal and cows in India to geisha in Japan to his brother in law Jesse’s mules back home on the creek, once his stent was completed and he hitchhiked home from California.

Back to WKU on the GI bill he enrolled in pre pharmacy and met a pretty and spunky home ec major, Martha Sue Holland. When she finished school , with a platinum ring purchased at the Memphis PX, he asked her to marry him. They married June 25, 1960; he went on to Pharmacy School at University of Kentucky while she taught, meeting on weekends. At graduation, he came to look at a drug store in Mayfield Ky that was hiring, Wilson Rexall Drugs. He believed it to be a thriving business, as he visited during the annual 1 cent sale weekend. Although in existence since before the civil war, it was not the vibrant business it had appeared to be on his visit. He was a man of his word and one who didn’t like change, so he made his nest there. He and Martha Sue build a home. Two daughters came along - Dru, in 1964 and Holly, in 1970.

He worked the business all his life; it moved locations 3 times. The last was in an old department store on the corner. Ray liked to share that part of movie with Bruce Willis was filmed there. (Ray, unfortunately, landed on the cutting room floor.) In 1990, one night the large furniture store next to the drugstore burned to the ground. The fire marshal cleared the drugstore to open the next day and it was business as usual until 10am. The entire 4 story brick east wall came crashing down, everyone fleeing, a lady handing Ray 1$ for a greeting scheduled drugs from the rubble of the pharmacy and for weeks he stood hours over the kitchen sink disposal putting them down the drain to protect the local addicts. It was God’s hand the pharmacy would end the way it did-Ray had put his entire life into a business that was becoming a dinosaur in the modern era of pharmacy. With retirement, Ray could more pursue his interests.

Over the years, he was intrigued with genealogy ,sitting at his desk for hours, plotting out his extended family tree on an old wallpaper remnant. His great great great grandfather came to Donaldson Creek Ky from SC as part of a Revolutionary War land grant in payment for his service. Ray traced his ancestors back to Wales and the first Thomases who came to the US as indentured servants on the Endeavor, which shipwrecked on Bermuda, claimed it for England and inspired Shakespeare to write “the Tempest”. Those Thomases eventually made it to South Carolina then ultimately, Ky. Ray and his cousin, Edison, wrote a book and started a society , The Thomas and Bridges Association, which has hundreds of members and since the early 70’s meets annually for a weekend of reunions and eating really good food and pie, lots of pie. In his little stretch of the creek valley, Ray crowd funded and had several bronze state historical markers erected, probably the most dense section of those in the state- so many it is surprisingly not a sinkhole. He restored the family cemeteries and arrangement military headstones and an honor guard for those buried there who had served. Ray loved a good cemetery; he found them fascinating.

Olen Ray was inventive and an incredibly hard worker. Near his family homeplace sat a 150 year old cabin that had been inhabited by 2 hermits, piled to the rafters with Armor potted meat food product cans and used Everyready batteries. He and his wife, Suzie, gutted the cabin to the studs and rebuilt it using architectural salvage before architectural salvage was a thing-windows and boxwoods from a house fire, a lavender bathtub that was the site of a suicide. Anything was recyclable. An outbuilding was going to be demolished nearby; he disassembled it by hand and reassembled it as a back wing. He salvaged log cabins and reconstructed them on the property. He was forever suspect of power tools so everything was done by hand, as his ancestors had done. He was frugal to a fault-it was not unusual to find him sitting on the front stoop straightening out nails with his hammer for reuse. When there was a tornado in the 70’s he pulled tin from the treetops, unbent it, and that became the roof. He loved the cabin and frequently on his days off, he would drive his little red truck over , packing a plastic recycled Lilly pill bottle jug of water, a loaf of Wonder bread, package of baloney, and vacation Bible school chocolate and vanilla sandwich cookies. He was at this happiest then. One particular day, his rope and 2x4 system he rigged to give him stability in putting tar on the roof failed. He rolled and fell off the roof, 5 gallon bucket of black paint landing on top of him. He returned home that night looking like a mostly black Dalmatian, much to the delight of his young daughters. He loved to garden. He planted his home in Mayfield with fruit trees, the fruit of which he harvested and canned. He dried apples on cookie sheets in the attic. He planted vegetables, with tomatoes being (of course) his favorite. Every year, even up until his last one, he had a vegetable garden, even when living in the city with urban deer he never gave up trying to grow the perfect tomato crop. Some of the happiest times in his life were when he would be gifted bushels of turnips from a bumper crop, or find a peach or apple tree loaded with fruit, free for the harvest. He would say “I don’t want to be greedy…but…” and pick all he could carry. He planted bulbs and flower gardens. He loved the little white Star of Bethlehem flowers that grew in his daughter’s yard forming white drifts of blossoms in the spring so together they dug hundreds of bulbs from the median in the road and from the grounds of buildings being demolished and planted them in his Charlotte yard. Like his mother and his sisters, he had a gardener’s eye and green thumb for creating a beautiful flower garden. (and yes, once in Mayfield he won “Yard of the Month”)

Ray’s love to travel was awakened when he got a taste of the big world in the service. He and Suzie honeymooned in the Pocanos and then traveled to Seattle for the world’s fair, putting lots of miles on her little Corvaire. They found a driftwood log washed on a Pacific coast beach and brought it home in the backseat , having to remove the door handles to get it to fit. (It ultimately became 3 coffee tables and a beach house sign) When his children were young, he and Martha Sue would load up the station wagon, pack plastic jugs of water, a bucket of peanut butter, and a loaf of day-old Wonder bread and off they’d go across the country with cousins, aunts and uncles , staying in inexpensive motels. Ray had an incredible gift, before the internet made such easier, of finding unique places to stop, He had a knack for detail. After retirement, with their daughters and families, He and Suzie were able to once again travel to more distant places. HIs last big trip was across the country. His daughter Holly, was planning a trip out west with her son, Brooks, and in telling Ray of the details, he said in a wistful little voice “I wish I could go too”. Challenge given, challenge accepted. Ray, Suzie, their daughters and his grandson made a 7000 mile across the country in a Yukon, followed by many on social media. He loved the attention and would do such things as climb on the back of a 10 foot fiberglass jackalope, waving an American flag and calling “take my picture here!” (RayandSuzieBTrippin ), He said it was the best trip of his life.

Ray was frugal to a fault. He was also rather colorful, eccentric and had a wicked sense of humor, frequently orchestrating the perfect practical joke. Ray was loathe to ever throw anything away that might still have some use in it. His lawn mowing shoes were old church dress shoes, which he would repair over the stove with a hot ice pick with bailing wire through the toes. He loved cheap department store flip flops and wore them nightly, repairing them as they broke with wire and duct tape. When one would disintegrate and have to be thrown away, he would save the other to cobble together a pair. He lived in boxer shorts, loved them. One of his favorite gifts ever was when he was enrolled in the boxer shorts of the month club. He never threw a pair away even when threadbare and the elastic shot; that was why God invented the safety pin. He also lived in scoop neck white t shirts, wearing them frontwords, backwords, inside out, and full of holes. He slept in one every night. Over the years he developed a dry mouth, which was especially problematic when sleeping. His solution, which he thought brilliant, was to cut a piece of duct tape and tape his mouth shut each night. He would say “Y'all keep talking; I’m going to tape my mouth for the night” and there he’d be. That man loved duct tape, probably only second to bungee cords. One night as he was sleeping in the front bedroom in their house in town in Cadiz, blue lights out front woke him in the chilly wee hours of the morning. Ray wandered out into the front yard circling the many police cars and the stopped car trying to figure out the situation. All was fine until one of the police flashlights happened to catch the disheveled 90 year old man in safety pinned boxers, a white undershirt that appeared moth eaten, mismatched flip flops, hair on end and a duct taped mouth, (which he’d unfortunately forgotten). Immediately all the flashlights landed on Olen Ray, with the police confident they had found an escaped elder abuse victim, yelling through bullhorns “SIR> SIR> DO YOU FEEL SAFE??” Suzie of course slept through it all, with Ray sheepishly telling her over breakfast that he’d had a ‘rather eventful’ night. With his dry mouth came dentures, which he treated in typical Olen Ray fashion. While working in the yard at Holly’s house he left his teeth on the coffee table (*why?) and his upper plate was chewed by her dog, Pip; it no longer fit. This was a point of contention over the years with Ray claiming that his teeth being chewed by the dog was somehow the fault of Suzie. At 90, he found himself living in Charlotte in a charming little home 3 houses from one daughter and a block from the other. Saturday mornings were particularly anticipated as Holly would take him to estate sales and Aldi. It was “their time” and he looked forward to it all week. Dru, would find things she didn’t need on Facebook marketplace and with a quest sort of mentality, pick him up and off they would go with him as her ride along, stopping here and there for lunch at a diner, a milk shake and one extra to bring back to Suzie. Olen Ray thought recycling was just the best as it fit his mentality. He drove Suzie crazy coming behind her and pulling things out of the trash he thought could be placed into the recycle bin. He was horribly rough on his jeans, ripping holes in the legs. As she got older, Suzie could not see to thread a needle, and Dru offered to repair a pair. She fixed them with denim patches and sewed a heart on them just to tweak her dad, but ironically it pleased Olen Ray to no end. The next pair developed a fray in the groin. Dru sewed an ice cream cone patch over the hole, which Ray decreed ‘obscene’ and the pants not wear-able . After adding a dozen more patches of unicorns and rainbows and hearts, he was quite tickled. These became his favorite pants, his “good” pants, he loved them because of the attention they brought his way. He very much embraced being a veteran as he got older, and loved the conversations his Korean War Veteran hat would start. When people would thank for for his service, he would beam, as much as a 90 year old kind of crusty guy with ill fitting dentures could beam.With Dru, Olen Ray went on a honor flight to DC with other war veterans. That day, especially coming home to the airport filled with thousands of cheering people and (most especially) his daughter, son in law, wife and grandsons, was one of the highlights of his life. He was always planting flowers and fruit trees, being ever hopeful he would be alive in months/years to watch them grow. Mostly though, that man loved to mow. Riding lawnmowers were suspect and for lazy people. A push mower was the way to go and self propelled was a luxury he allowed himself only as he got older. Up until a few months before his death at 92, he was mowing his yard with his push mower, even in August. He killed so many lawnmowers over is lifetime; if a lawnmower were to have a soul there would be at least 75 of them waiting to greet him at the pearlygates. Even as he lay dying Holly, was saying in his ear she was sure there would be a good lawnmower in heaven waiting just for him. If there was anything he loved better than lawnmowing, it was starting a fire and burning stuff up. In Charlotte, Olen Ray would walk down the street to Holly’s house where she had a backyard firepit and he would stoke up a fire. He was well known along his route because he moved slowly, looked so frail, and was often carrying his beloved leaf rake, like some version of the Grim Reaper. Many times he gave his daughters chest pain and more than once the sheriff was called because of some toxic something or other he was burning creating a mushroom cloud over the valley. Burning was the solution to anything, as 3$ to take an item to the landfill was money wasted.

He was never a demonstrative man, but this changed as he got older. He would speak often of Suzie and his great admiration for her and said ‘that woman can do anything’. He was never one to make a fuss over any holiday, it was not how he was raised, but in later years he began bringing Suzie flowers for special occasions. Fall of 2025, he began getting excited about her 90th birthday January 23rd, saying his last goal was to get her to 90. He had elaborate plans which his daughters helped him implement. Ray planned an “Orchid Shower” where dozens of family and friends sent her over 45 orchids. He wrote a long speech in tribute to her and his wonder over all she had overcome and what she had done with her life. He invited neighbors to stop in. It was a glorious day and he was so excited and happy. He was incredible proud of his wife (referring to her to his daughters as “Uh” or “Your Mother”) A few days after Suzie’s 90th birthday, Olen Ray suffered a stroke. He tried to rehab for his family and to be able to come home to his Suzie and Izzy the dog, but it was too much for his 92 year old self. The time in the hospital gave Ray a chance to tell his wife and daughters his feelings, really for the first time in his life. He said he could not believe that he had been so fortunate and could not have had two better daughters , he was in amazement. He told them, “well done my good and faithful daughters”. He was discharged to home with Hospice. Within minutes of being home, Izzy jumped on his legs, curled up and went to sleep, happy to have him home. He was profoundly affected by her devotion to him-a slightly unhinged rescue 10 pound chihuahua emotionally flattened that crusty 92 year old man. He was strong and Frustratingly Stubborn (FRUSTRATINGLY. STUBBORN.), used to having his own way; he did not like his lack of control. He prayed for death. A few days before his death, the last words he said to his family were -

I want to go home

I am waiting to go home.

He made his choice.

He was a man of quiet faith and he wanted to see his Savior and be reunited with his family that had gone before him (and possibly those 75 lawnmowers).

On the morning of March 5, 2026 at 8:40 in the morning, he quit breathing, his heart quit beating and he went to be with his (our) Jesus.

In Olen Ray fashion, he already had his tombstone in place, pictures for his local paper, and he wrote his own eulogy. As his body was leaving the house, Holly noted that the first Star of Bethlehem flower was blooming in the yard. His family, we, are selfishly sad. None of us wanted to say goodbye; its always too soon. But, we know it is as it should be, and he will be there to greet us one day, most likely pushing a lawn mower.

Job well done, Dad.