Raymond Li Min Huang's Obituary
Raymond Li Min Huang, 94, passed away quietly at home on November 20, 2017. Raymond was born on February 4, 1923 in Bangor, Maine, the eldest of six siblings to Wong Jack Jones and Chin Ngan Gee. He was predeceased by his wife, Florinda Fong, of San Francisco in 2003 after sharing 56 years of marriage.
A World War II Veteran (1943-1946), he was assigned to the China Theater. He retired with the rank of Captain in the US Army, Reserve, receiving the Combat Infantryman’s Badge and the Bronze Star Medal. The GI Bill afforded Ray the opportunity to graduate from the University of Maine (1948) and Stanford University, MBA, Phi Beta Kappa (1950). After a distinguished 33 year career with IBM, Ray retired in 1987.
Ray was an engaging and witty story teller. He retained a modesty that belied his curiosity, humor and endearing sense of family and friends. Raymond enjoyed his culinary delights and remained sharp as a tack. We will miss his distinctive laugh and his “Aha!” factor.
Ray is survived by his brothers Edmund and Almond, his sister, Fay Eng, his two sons, Arlan (Lillian) and Carey (Linda), his daughter, Diane Lee (Leslie) and his grandchildren, with whom he derived much joy, Ray and Joey, Keilin and Mark, Ryan Lee and Ashley Lee.
Raymond wished his inurnment to be a private gathering.
In lieu of flowers, donations may be made in Ray’s memory to Chinese Congregational Church, 21 Walter U. Lum Place, San Francisco, CA 94108 or The Chinese Historical Society of America, 965 Clay St., San Francisco, CA 94108.
STORIES FROM THE FAMILY
Bangor, Maine 1923-1943 by Arlan
My dad once told me his dream at age 10 was to become a banker.
Our grandparents were one of two Chinese families in Bangor, Maine (1923). Due to an immigration hiccup in 1911, Wong Jack Jones was stamped with his given name as his family name. The Jones family thrived and assimilated into the small town lifestyle. The brothers, Raymond, Donald, Wade, Edmund and Almond were known as the “Jones Boys”. Their sister, Fay, was affectionately called the “Jones Girl”.
Through their family restaurant, the “The Pekin,” they pioneered a New England style Chinese-American menu. Raymond, being the oldest, ascended to the position of cashier at age 10. He also discovered his lifelong passion for international and American food. Ray enjoyed his culinary favorites till his final days always giving a nod to his Chi-Am “Pekin” roots.
Berkeley, California 1943-1944 by Arlan
Ray introduced Prime Rib to Florinda.
Florinda introduced artichokes to Ray.
Kismet.
Matriculating thru the Bangor Public School System, Ray joined the R.O.T.C. in High School and continued the program at the University of Maine (1941). Within a year, war was declared and Ray was sent to Boot Camp. Next came Officer Candidate School, graduating as a second lieutenant (1943). Assigned to the China Theater, he reported to the U.S. Army Language Course. The class was given at University of California, Berkeley (1943) where the young officer quartered at International House dormitory. As fate would have it, a young aspiring U.C. student named Florinda Fong of San Francisco was also living at I-House.
Ray liked to regale the story of how Florinda and her gang teased him and called him a “square” for his naive knowledge of San Francisco Chinese food. Ray, the good natured country boy from Bangor, endeared himself to Flo’s Chinese American friends and family. These friendships grew and lasted for 74 years. And for Ray and Florinda it was kismet.
If you visit International House, Berkeley, you will find engraved bricks dedicated to Ray and Florinda marking their magical year at I-House. Their love endured a lifetime.
Essence by Carey
Ray had a quick wit and was well read with a knack for remembering obscure details. He would watch “Jeopardy” and “Who Wants to be a Millionaire” and answer the questions matter of factly, with his gracious smile and New England accent. He would suggest food establishments that he read or heard about, which would prompt the question, “Where’d you hear about that?”
His love of music was reflected in an extensive and eclectic record collection. What he didn’t have in records was replaced with boxes of reel to reel tapes of music that he recorded from radio programs on Sunday afternoons and Holidays. He would spend those afternoons listening and recording the programs on KPEN and KFOG, such as “Anything Goes” and “Penthouse Serenade” while reading the Sunday newspaper. He serenaded the neighborhood as he opened up the balcony doors and blasted his state-of-the-art component stereo with JBL speakers.
He was affable and gregarious, always open to engaging a crowd and telling a story. Our good friend, who leads tours in Chinatown, once stopped him, introduced him to the group and let him tell a Chinatown story.
On a business trip to Los Angeles, a hotel clerk said to him, “I know you! You’re Mr. Miyagi!” He just smiled, waved his hand and went along with the joke neither admitting nor denying his identity. For the remainder of his trip, “Mr. Miyagi” enjoyed the attention and amenities afforded him.
His competitive juices manifested itself in his love of slot machines and mah jong. Ray and Florinda made routine summer treks to South Lake Tahoe with the kids, then to Reno as a couple and later with the kids and grandchildren. He once redeemed his accumulated points for a refurbished dime slot machine. He kept it in one of our old bedrooms for everyone to play. Reno was replaced with Cache Creek and Graton, eventually replaced with his iPad. He brought his iPad to bed in order to “cash in” on the periodic cash bonuses throughout the night when he woke up. He was a seasoned mah jong player who could “read” the tiles by sweeping his thumb over the characters. You could feel his excitement as he related the story of picking up a tile, feeling it and realizing that he scored the equivalent of a royal flush……”Mun Woo!”
1926 Larkin Street 1958-2017 by Arlan
I will miss his explosive sneeze.
With the conclusion of WWII, Raymond returned from Shanghai in 1946. Raymond and Florinda were married in 1947. San Francisco became their home for the rest of their lives.
His first job was with American President Lines, a shipping company. (I never knew what he did, but I knew it involved counting or transporting money.) It was always a treat to ride in the company car, a rickety wood trimmed 1950s station wagon.
His next and final job was with a fledging computer company called International Business Machines (1954). Respected by his colleagues, he developed lifelong friends. The fastest way up the IBM ladder was to move from city to city. Ray declined the fast track promotions in favor of a permanent, stable home centered on family.
In 1958, Ray, Florinda and their children, Arlan, Carey and Diane moved to 1926 Larkin St. It became the hub for family and friends for 59 years.
With the appearance of grandchildren starting in 1981, 1926 was again a household bursting with youthful promise. Grandparents Ray and Flo provided a home away from home with abundant love and plenty of funny stories. It was a golden period.
With the passing of Florinda in 2003, broken hearts healed into late blooming life lessons only time could reveal. Ray, as usual, exemplified grace with humor while anchoring 1926 Larkin. The grandchildren, Ray and Joey, Keilin and Mark, Ryan and Ashley blossomed into young adults. They continue to bless his home with joy and plenty of their own funny stories.
Many years ago my mom told me daddy had a gift for seeing the wonder of life through Bangor eyes. She lovingly called him a good man.
1926 Larkin Street 1968-2017 by Carey
Upon entering junior high school, we were exposed to school and community dances. I became enamored with the live bands performing at these functions. 1967 saw the start of my musical dream of performing in a band with my friends. We were rehearsing at different venues: the community center, the family association and members’ houses. The 1926 Larkin Street TV room was one of the houses and by the end of the year, Mommy and Daddy allowed me to use a basement room for rehearsing. Over the years, the storage boxes were cleared out, converting the room into an evolving music studio. Daddy was patient enough to let us use the garage, too. He’d come home in the evening and double park while we moved our cars out so that he could pull in. It has remained my “practice room” over the last 49 years.
Fellow IBM’er by Linda
YehYeh and I both worked for IBM. We used to have fun reminiscing about the “good old days” when IBM spared no expense in treating its employees to family picnics, dinners, holiday parties and business trips.
YehYeh was responsible for reconnecting Carey and I after college. One day in the elevator at IBM, I bumped into Mr. Huang and asked how Carey was doing. He asked me for my phone number so Carey could give me a call and the rest is history.
Later, he said his colleagues in the elevator kidded him about asking me for my number.
YehYeh’s (Grandfather’s) dinner and love by Keilin
Family dinners on Larkin Street often consisted of clam dip with chips, soup, a veggie side, and some kind of meat dish. Pork chops, BBQ, prime rib…all the good stuff! I don’t remember how this started, but any time we had prime rib, mine would be cut up into little bite size pieces. I can only assume that this started when I was younger and I couldn’t be trusted with a knife. Anyway, there was one time where I looked at everyone else’s plates and I saw big juicy slabs of meat. Then I looked at mine and saw…cut up pieces of prime rib. To be honest, I’m not a huge prime rib fan and I probably wouldn’t have been able to eat the whole thing, but still! I felt left out. How come I didn’t have a big piece? Why did mine have to be cut up?
I think I tried to downplay it and pulled my dad aside to ask, “How come Yeh Yeh cuts up my prime rib and he doesn’t do that for anyone else?” Of course nothing gets past Yeh Yeh, so he noticed I was acting weird and says, “Keilin, what’s wrong?” Caught! I awkwardly told him that I noticed my prime rib was the only one cut up and I wasn’t sure why. Then Yeh Yeh goes, “Well, you never said anything!”
It was moments like these that made me appreciate all that Yeh Yeh did, not only for me, but for his family. He was more than happy to make sure everyone was satisfied, and he knew immediately when something was wrong. After the Prime Rib Incident, all future dinners presented me with an uncut piece of meat. Thanks Yeh Yeh 🙂
Recipes for Life by Mark
If there’s one thing Yeh Yeh is known for, it’s his high protein diet. Ironically I didn’t want to eat a lot of his favorites when I was young. I guess the lobsters, clams, oysters, and beef tongues just grossed me out. Thankfully I changed my mind at some point and dinner with Yeh Yeh exposed me to foods I’ve come to love. Once I moved away for college, I had to start learning to cook all my favorites on my own. Luckily I knew exactly where I could go to learn to make all the classic meat dishes: Yeh Yeh!
Just like Yeh Yeh, prime rib roast is one of my favorites, so naturally that was my first lesson from him. We got out our ribeye roast onto the kitchen table. It’s pretty much ready to go, all I do is season it with garlic salt. I pour what seems to me like a reasonable amount all over the roast. Yeh Yeh tells me it’s not enough. After I sprinkle some more on, he tells me it’s not enough yet again. This time I learn my lesson and I keep going until he says stop. We must’ve put half of the container on the roast! I turn to him and say, “Wow Yeh Yeh, that’s a lot of salt!” He looks back at me with a mischievous grin on his face and replies “I know”. I figure with all this salt on the top, it might be a good idea to massage it into the roast to really get the flavor in the meat. I ask him if we should do it. He says, “Sure, do you wanna press in the salt, Mark?” I ask, “Does it help?” And he replies with a simple “No”. I laughed to myself knowing that he was going to just let me do it anyways and watch. Who am I to question the master? I didn’t touch the roast any further, and we bring it over to the oven. 15 minutes at 450* and then lower it to 200* and add a thermometer into the middle of the roast. It’s ready when the thermometer reads 120*. Juicy, rare slices every time.
This memory has stuck with me because it’s a fun story that captures Yeh Yeh’s personality and approach to life. He enjoyed the things he loved until the very end even when others thought he probably shouldn’t, yet he never forced his will on anyone and just let them do what they wanted to do. Now it’s a nice reminder for me and anyone who comes across this, to keep doing the things that make you happy and to strive to bring joy to others. And that salt is the secret to long life! Haha, just kidding.
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