It was June of 1986. At that point in my career, I had gratefully worked in the industry for ten years. And I remember thinking to myself that I had found my calling, and I could see myself retiring from this industry. My phone rang. I picked it up, and I immediately recognized the voice on the other end as Ray Clouse, the CEO of NCDC. I had worked with Ray and his staff over the years as a member of NCDC and often times as a beta test site for their products. My conversation with Ray was short and to the point which was typical for Ray. "Dosch, get your butt over here. I've got a job for you." No interview, no personality test, no background check, no reference checks. He had made up his mind and would not take no for an answer. To be honest, my first reaction was no and heck no. I was comfortable where I was. It was a secure, well-paying job, and the position that Ray was offering was certainly a challenge, but the financial and market position of NCDC at that time was tenuous at best. They were a struggling startup, strapped for cash, struggling to get a foothold in a difficult, undefined, and volatile market. My head was screaming no. But my heart. And my intuition said this is exactly where I needed to be. So much to the disappointment and against the advice of my father. I took the job, and as they say, I have never looked back. In retrospect, next to marrying Lynn, this was the most impactful decision I had made in my life. That unlikely turn in my career has opened up opportunities, allowed me to travel to all 50 states and the world, has stretched me personally, intellectually, and physically. It has taught me important life lessons, allowed me to fail and recover, but, most importantly, has afforded me the opportunity to establish critical, life-changing, and enduring relationships and friendships. In addition, it is provided for my family, made house payments, paid tuition, covered the birth of our children, and broken bones and stitches that go along with raising a young family. But it has also given me the opportunity to retire and to refocus my life when I still have my health and the opportunity to participate in the lives of our children and grandchildren. But back to my story. Ray was a man's man, a marine, a cowboy, an opinionated, hard-drinking, no-nonsense leader who was a bit short in the compassion and empathy realm but excelled in defying the odds and dispelling the naysayers when life presented challenges. His favorite saying was "lead, follow or get the heck out of the way." Some would rightfully say that Ray's management style was authoritarian or autocratic. During those early years, we didn't have time to browse the Community or participate in a virtual employee meeting, attend to Meetup or listen to an NISC minute. We were fighting to survive as an organization. And Ray. Well, Ray was just the man to lead us. His management style was well suited for the years we spent as a struggling startup. All of those memories were running through my head as I headed west on Interstate 94, traveling to a small town of Golva, North Dakota, to the funeral of my friend, my boss, and the person who believed in me when perhaps I didn't believe in myself. Ray Clouse. It had been 26 years since Ray walked out the door of NCDC and headed into Retirement. He was drawn back to the ranch, the beauty and the majesty of the North Dakota badlands where he grew up. It was here herding his cattle on a horse, listening to the quiet of the prairie where he found his peace far away from the hustle, bustle, trials, and tribulations of being CEO of a technology co-operative. The church was full. The service was poignant, and it was comforting to see Ray's kids, who had grown two adults since the last time I had seen them. His wife, Judy, stood stoically surrounded and supported by her children. Ray had lived an amazing life, a life that was full of adventure, laughter, family, and friends. There were few tears on this day. Rather, the air was full with laughter and stories. Ray stories. Everyone who knew him had a few. Ray would not have tolerated any sadness or sniffling, rather. Today was the day that his friends pulled out the good stuff, the Pendleton whiskey, to toast to Ray and his colorful and impactful life. I believe that certain people come into our lives for a reason. And I, for one, am grateful that Ray came into my life to radically change its direction and set me on a course that was most unexpected. We gathered at his gravesite on a cold and blustery North Dakota fall morning. The fall sun warmed our faces and our hearts. The ever-present North Dakota wind gently move the prairie grass that surrounded the gravesite. A military contingent conducted a 21 gun salute. Ray would have liked that a fitting end to a strong and committed soldier who loved his family, his country, and his God. Thanks, Ray Clouse, for what you have done for me and my family. Rest in peace, my friend, and may this final ride into the sunset bring you the joy and assurance of a life well-lived. Thanks for listening. I appreciate you, Vern
