Ray Reed, a respected Howard Payne graduate whose life included decades in education, coaching and public service, is reflecting on 85 years marked by family, faith, loss and an unusually memorable pet. Reed and his late wife, Barbara, met at Howard Payne College, graduated in 1963 and spent 58 years married.
The story of Reed’s life is told in a column published Aug. 25 by Brownwood News. Although Reed now lives on Reed Road about four miles north of Granbury, his connection to Howard Payne gives the account a meaningful link to Brownwood and the university community.
A Howard Payne connection and a life in education
Ray and Barbara Reed met while attending Howard Payne College, now known as Howard Payne University. Both graduated in 1963. Most of their teaching careers took place at Wharton High School, where Ray also coached football for 11 years.
After coaching and teaching, Reed served two years as a tax assessor/collector. He later completed his career as the business manager for Wharton Public Schools. The couple eventually moved in 2008 to what they called the “Reed Place,” a home located along Reed Road.
The road carries the Reed family name. Reed’s parents, who had arrived from Decatur and worked as sharecroppers for 10 years, later bought the small property through which Reed Road runs. The road was also renamed as part of an effort to help emergency personnel locate homes by family names rather than confusing street numbers. According to the column, it was the first Hood County road renamed for that purpose.
Pogo was part of the family
Among the most distinctive parts of the Reeds’ life together was Pogo, a Yellow-collared Macaw that lived with the family for 35 years. The bird hatched in Wharton, Texas, shortly before joining the household and became, in the family’s view, virtually another family member.
Pogo’s large cage occupied most of an 8-by-10-foot room, while a smaller cage was used for travel and hotel stays. The bird ate fruits and nuts, mimicked human speech and frequently perched on family members’ shoulders. Pogo also used extended index fingers as convenient places to pause.
People asking about the household often wanted to know whether the Reeds had dogs or cats, but birds were not usually part of the question. Reed recalled that Pogo was unusually well behaved and appeared never to have made a mess or lost even a feather. The bird weighed about eight ounces, most of that weight covered by feathers.
Pogo escaped only once, after a door was left open. The family posted signs and contacted friends throughout the area. Five weeks later, people roughly five miles away found the bird and confirmed it was the missing macaw before calling the Reeds.
When Ray arrived, Pogo flew to his shoulder within minutes, and the two went home together. The reunion restored what the family felt was its missing member.
Loss, gratitude and continuing forward
In 2020, Reed experienced two major losses. Barbara died from kidney disease, and Pogo died several months later. Reed also misses the family pet Pogo, whose unusually long life made the bird a lasting part of the family’s memories.
Reed and Barbara had two children, Janna and Wes. Ray’s brother, Danny, lives nearby, and the two brothers are now the only members of the Reed family living on Reed Road.
The column presents Reed as reserved, modest and grateful for his family, former students, friends and Christian faith. It says he remains committed to what the writer describes as his Christian pilgrimage and continues to find reasons to look ahead.
During a recent lunch conversation, Reed and the writer discussed the familiar idea that life can interrupt the plans people make. Reed joked about having more than two backup plans: I used to always have a ‘Plan A and B’, he said, adding that he might need to consider C, D and E.
He also tells his church friends, we must ‘keep on keeping on’. Despite the gains and losses he has experienced, Reed wishes others well and believes tomorrow remains worth getting up for.
The column closes with a reference to the 1874 gospel song “Great Getting Up Mornin” and its words, Fare thee well, fare thee well. For Reed’s story, the sentiment captures a life shaped by enduring commitments, deep sorrow, gratitude and the unusual memory of a bird who once disappeared—and eventually found his way home.