© 2018 Greg & Sylvia RAY

Greg Ray’s Writing

Read more about the article Looking out for number one
Photo by Stuart Quinn

Looking out for number one

The number of parking places at the city workplace had been cut. Now the workers found themselves squabbling over the remaining spots. They went to their boss and mentioned the issue. He thanked them for bringing his attention to the problem and, within hours, implemented his one and only solution. He had a plaque with his name placed on one of the parking spaces. Says a lot about human nature. Faced with scarcity - real or anticipated - our first reaction is usually to take care of ourselves. I also recollect - and can't forget -…

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Read more about the article The Nakba and the ghost of Yitzhak Rabin
Peter Lewis's response to the latest round of violence.

The Nakba and the ghost of Yitzhak Rabin

Opinion by Greg Ray. October 11, 2023 About the middle of last week, before the Hamas attack on Israel, I had a dream about Palestinians. This is unusual since I am by no means deeply invested in the Israel/Palestine issue, though I have often thought about it. In the dream I was in a park and a group of people I somehow knew were Palestinians (dreams are like that) were sitting at a picnic table and having a conversation. The people looked suspicious and unhappy. I thought I should go and talk to them because I…

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Read more about the article TB, an old foe, half-forgotten but not gone
First patients at Rankin Park chest hospital, June 12, 1947.

TB, an old foe, half-forgotten but not gone

The recent appearance of two clusters of tuberculosis disease in Australia is a reminder that this deadly old foe has not been eradicated. Indeed, it is estimated that about a quarter of the world's population harbours the TB bacteria, with new variants emerging that are harder to treat. No widely effective vaccine is available. Growing up in the suburb of Rankin Park, Newcastle, NSW, I was aware that there was - a few kilometres through the bushland near my home - a "chest hospital". That's what my father called it, whenever we drove past. It was…

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