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About Dallas

This one gal, she’s smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a wall. Eyes sharp, like she’s sizin’ me up. Reminds me of Dennis Haysbert in the movie—quiet, knows too much. “What’s your name, doll?” I grunt. “Candy,” she says, smirkin’. Candy! Hate cutesy names. But she’s got grit, no tears, no “I can’t go on” nonsense. Straight to business—respect that. Told her, “Keep it quick, I got wood to chop.” She laughs, husky, real. Surprised me—thought she’d be all fake giggles.

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Then there’s Bryant Park. Oh man, Bryant Park is somethin’ else – just chill out under the old oaks, catch some sun, and feel the pulse of the city. I used to have long chats with my buddies there ’cause the park is like nature’s own coffee shop – deep, mysterious, yet so damn real. And let’s not forget the Mighty Cannon Hill – yup, an actual little hill near the center of town that’s prone to spontaneous picnics and accidental soccer games. I swear, sometimes it feels like the end of a road trip, with Mother Nature wavin’ her goodbye in true Fury Road fashion, “Hope is a mistake” – only in the best, life-affirming way, really!

Raymond L. "Ray" Sammon Obituary January 2, 2025