For anyone who wishes to know my father better

My father, Ken Hay, is currently waging a battle against brain cancer for his life. My mother, Bonnie Hay, fights along side him. The cancer has changed him, it has taken the fire from him. I want to write, on this my birthday, today to record the way that he was before cancer, the way that I remember him, happy and hard-working. And I offer these memories now to anyone who wants to know my father better, now or in the future, and share in the stories of his kindness and wisdom.


Ken Hay is a great man who lives to serve others. He has found many ways to do that. He is a husband, father, park ranger, Coast Guard reservist, veteran, Sea Marshal, fire fighter, and an advocate for parks. He is a conservationist, preservationist, community builder, veteran supporter, a lover of animals and trees and a generous volunteer to his church, community, family or anyone who needs someone to do the work that no one wants to do. As a servant, he is loved by his community, Klamath Falls, Oregon, where he was named "Person of the year" in 2014 by the local newspaper Herald and News, and where the annual snowflake parade was dedicated to him after the community found out about his diagnosis.

He is a leader and teacher to volunteers he recruits to maintain trails, clean up beaches, and preserve animal habitats. He seems to be able to talk anyone into helping him do these things (and he once told me the secret but I will hold onto that secret a little longer!).

My dad ("Papa") grew up in Delaware, Ohio, with his parents Ruth and John Hay, lovers of music and nature, along with his brother David. He studied science and nature at Ohio Wesleyan University. His love of preserving nature and caring for creatures that need our protection lead him to a career as a national park ranger. In Yellowstone National Park, he met and fell in love with (my mom) Bonnie, a musician and teacher. They had many adventures together in the wild places of the western United States (see my first blog entry, my favorite one, from 2011), such as Rocky Mountain, Death Valley, Lava Beds and Crater Lake. They raised my brother (Tristan) and I in California and Oregon. Ken was a reservist and veteran in the US Coast Guard, serving as Sea Marshal in San Francisco Bay during Desert Storm and Enduring Freedom. After retiring from the National Park service, he became the Superintendent of city parks in Klamath Falls. People he worked with tell me that it is impossible to understate his innovation and contribution to the city and his generosity to the people of his community. He served on the boards of Fire District 4, Crater Lake Natural History Association and Linkville Playhouse. He seemed to know people everywhere! I recall family vacations to Idaho, California and Washington where in some little diner or road stop some stranger would say, "Is that Ken Hay?! Well, I'll be!" Yes, all three states! And if he didn't know anyone somewhere he visited, he would have made a friend out of a stranger there anyway, immediately making a lasting friendship and earning their respect. He once gave the keys to his cabin to a group of hikers (he had just met) on a snowy night saying the group could use his cabin to keep warm and leave the keys on the counter. The group did end up using it and apparently Papa was the angel they needed to help them make it through the snowy trip they had planned.

Papa has held many titles in his life but his favorite job has always been "father." He is extremely loving and proud of his children; we both became physicists, following a love of nature in different ways. Throughout my childhood, he taught by example and his lessons have become my guiding principles.

He shared his appreciation of nature and letting wilderness be as it was meant to be: untouched. Being a park ranger is a noble profession and one that I think I could have enjoyed myself. I remember Papa telling me not to disturb the flowers and rocks. When I hike, I take photos instead of plants, and I found my husband Zach, who is the same way. My parent's passion for nature turned into a passion for astronomy for me, and they encouraged my interest in it. National parks provided dark night skies for me to observe. 

Papa is always looking for ways to help others. I remember evenings spent in the church when he volunteered to vacuum the floors and pews. I remember he gave our yellow family car to a stranger who needed it, even though we were not well-off either, and I remember the guy paying Papa a dollar for it because Papa said “technically, there had to be a payment.” (He has always been a rule-follower, like me!) My dad drove a homeless couple from Tulelake into Klamath Falls (45 minutes) in order to find them a reasonably priced hotel that would accept animals. I learned some of these skills from him. When I was working in Los Angeles in 2005, there was a group of people huddled around a broken down car next to a busy freeway. I stopped with my friends to see if I could offer them my tools in the back of my car and they were so surprised that someone actually stopped to help them. They had been standing there waiting for hours they said. We got their tire changed and saw them on their way.

Both of my parents shared with Tristan and I their compassion for all living things. We rescued any creature that was suffering, including some that became our pets, Boo (dog) and Freddie (cat). Some of my best memories involve our pets. Like when Clyde, our parrot, flew from his perch into the gravy during Thanksgiving dinner and we all said, “there’s somethin’ in the gravy!” Or when Maynard cat sat for what I called his Christmas portrait and suddenly sprayed the backdrop while I was photographing him. Or when we tried the new bark collar on Jiggy dog and it seemed to punish him randomly, or in response to Cobi’s bark instead of his own! None of us could get it off fast enough because we were laughing so hard. Now I enjoy my own cats, and my girls' compassionate interactions with them. 

I am fortunate to have a loving family and supportive parents who teach me lessons by being proactive good people and putting others and myself ahead of them. Thank you, Mom and Papa! 

Papa has been able to experience the joy of grandparenthood for a short time now and when he could interact with the children he loved every moment of it. He served as nanny to my girls (his baby granddaughter twins Inessa and Bryna) and he got to hold his grandson Liam (Tristan and Heather's son) in his arms.

Papa and Liam

Papa and Bryna

Papa and Inessa

In 2014, when Papa was our nanny (or "manny," as some called him), his presence and generosity was essential. The attention and love he gave my girls (who were a year old at the time) will live on in their actions and personalities. He helped with daily chores and taught the girls how to eat with a spoon, drink out of cups, put a hat on, clean up their toys, and play in the water. Papa focused on practical life skills. He made healthy meals for them, their favorite being mushroom and cheese omelets (still, two years later, Inessa's favorite food is mushrooms). He took them to the zoo and library. He helped them build a relationship with our cats and his dog, Cobi, who my girls still remember fondly.

When Bryna picked up books, she would say, "Doppem-boppem-dah," which meant she was reading a book. I think the word derived from "GrandPapa" ("Boppem," as they called him).  A few days ago, I asked Bryna what her earliest memory was. I explained to think back as far as her brain could remember and tell me what was happening. Without prompting and without hesitation, she offered up a memory from two years ago of GrandPapa and me teaching her to walk the Cobi dog.

My father Ken lives as his faith commands, as a servant to everyone he encounters. As others now offer my father and my mother their support, prayers, phone calls, ears to listen, and shoulders to cry on, I know that whatever the outcome of this battle, his love and wisdom will live on in the hearts of his family and friends.

I found this selfie that Papa took with Inessa