My father was born in London, England on April 8, 1928, on Easter Sunday. His early years were spent in Wales, where his father, Horace Bray, worked at Gregynog Press where he designed and produced engraved illustrations. His mother, Pleasance, was a graduate of The London School of Economics. She studied math and worked for many years as a statistician. He had one sibling, an older brother, Alan, who was born in 1925. And, he had his beloved nanny and housekeeper, Nora. She was part of the family household for many years.



Sometime in the early 1930’s, during the Depression, the family relocated to England. In London, Horace spent the rest of his working years painting sets for West End theatre productions. Pleasance did classified work for the Department of Shipping during the WWII. Eventually she was awarded an MBE medal for her service in the war effort. Alan, who was often sick as a child, went to school close to home. He also tended the family “Victory Garden” as well as raising rabbits and chickens to provide extra food for the family when food was in short supply. He grew up to become a farmer. My father, who was both physically healthy, and academically strong, was sent to a private boarding school. As a young child, he sometimes suffered bouts of home sickness, but eventually he ended up at one of the first co-educational boarding schools in England, Bedales, which he attended from approximately the age of 11 - 18. There he was very happy - even as WWII waged on in the background of his school years. He used to tell the story of the time he and his classmates hid under their desks when a German missile known as a doodle bug (a type of flying bomb) flew overhead during one of their exams. After the bomb exploded elsewhere, they went back to writing the test papers.

In 1946, my father turned 18. He was drafted nine days before mandatory conscription ended - serving for the next few years in the Royal Air Force. Because of his aptitude for math, he was trained in the relatively new field of radar. One of his responsibilities was to teach soldiers and officers, who often were older than him, this new technology. 


In 1949, he was discharged and went on to study at the Architectural Association in London. He used to say that he was probably better suited to be engineer, because he was more interested in how things worked, than in design. But because of his aptitude for both art and math, he was advised to go into architecture, which he practiced in for the rest of his working life.


In 1952, he met my mother at a dance. In 1955 they married, and in 1957 they immigrated to Canada for work, and to have an adventure. They intended to stay for three years, and ended up staying for seven. I was born in 1962 in Toronto. In 1964, the three of us moved back to England where my sister, Alison, was born in 1965. 

But – my parents missed many things about Canada, one of them being the economic opportunities in Toronto, a city that was growing rapidly. The decision was made to return to Canada in 1966. And Toronto is where my father lived for the rest of his life – and it is where my sister and I grew up.

My father was intelligent, creative, and a problem solver – he liked routine, consistency, and he was reliable. If my father said he would show up and do something – he would, and he would do it to the best of his ability. Whether working as an architect, volunteering his design and building skills at the Unitarian Church and The Curtain Club Theatre Company, or spending many happy hours at the cottage, relaxing in the way he enjoyed most by working on small construction projects, he would fully commit to projects, and people.

Time at the cottage was his legacy to the family. It was where he spent many summer days with his ex-wife Mary Bray, daughter Jennet Sandler (Daniel), daughter Alison, grandson Jacob, and granddaughter Naomi. We have memories of happy times together – helping with chores, sunbathing, paddling in the lake, playing games; and we have memories of my father – sitting at the dining table drawing up his annual list of projects, disappearing in to the toolshed to work, swimming with his foam noodle, and relaxing at the end of each day with a glass of sherry while looking out over one of his favourite views – of the lake, and the Canadian Shield.