The Ledger

By Becky Holland

Earlier today, I saw the sheriff’s car and a fire truck in front of the apartments. I ran downstairs, curious.

Doyle Ray’s car wasn’t there. Granny was sitting on her porch.

My next-door neighbor came up behind me and said, “Becky, what happened?” I didn’t know.

She said, “Someone told me D-Ray died.”

I thought I heard her wrong. We both walked over to Granny, and she confirmed it.

In a small town, being a good neighbor still means something. And in Cochran, Doyle Ray Foskey was the epitome of one.

He made sure all of his neighbors and family and friends were always taken care of. He treated Granny like a queen, and somewhere along the way, I became like a little sister to him.

In the two years we were neighbors, I can’t count the times he shared a meal or brought over a delicious dessert, knowing full well I don’t cook much. There were also the moments we’d sit and try to figure things out—looking up items he had on eBay or working through how to download pictures from his phone to his computer.

When I needed to get my driver’s license renewed, guess who went with me?

On my first day at my new job, he woke up at the crack of dawn just to call and make sure I was awake.

When I mentioned wanting a portable shower head, he didn’t just listen—he showed up with one and installed it.

And the laughs—there were so many. Doyle Ray was a natural-born storyteller with a lifetime of adventures. I can’t tell you how many times we stood outside talking, laughing until we couldn’t catch our breath. Granny, too.

He worried about me, he said. If there was anything he wanted to teach me, it was to stop worrying so much about what others think—and to quit saying “I’m sorry” all the time.

He kept an eye on us. If a day or two passed and he hadn’t seen me, he’d come looking, just to make sure everything was okay.

It’s kind of funny, but like Granny and I agreed, we both felt a little more secure with Doyle Ray around.

He had a deep empathy and love for people—the kind of man who would give you the shirt off his back without hesitation.

He shared pearls of country wisdom, along with plenty of Biblical truth. He loved Jesus.

And his music—there was comfort in it. Even the silly songs he’d make up had a way of sticking with you.

When The Ledger was started, he was one of its biggest cheerleaders. He didn’t hesitate to say yes when I asked if I could write a story about him and his guitar playing.

I’m so glad we went ahead and did it—because we had planned to do it this week.

He played his favorite song for me to video, “I Saw the Light.” As me and Granny listened to it again this afternoon, I got goosebumps.

When it ended, Granny simply said, “Well? He saw the light today.”

Doyle Ray Foskey—Old D-Ray—will be missed around here.

Editor’s Note: Our first story on Mr. Foskey can be found here – https://thecbledger.com/2026/04/07/strings-of-grace-doyle-foskey-finds-faith-purpose-with-guitar/ .