From John Cochran

What a wonderful person

I just want to express my deepest sympathies to all who know and love Dr. Wray.  I had her for only one class, but it was the last class I took at UMKC before earning my MA.  Brilliance, sense of humor..everyone reading knows this of her.  God's blessing

From Gretchen Titus-Schmidt

Shona the Scout Mom

Shona and I became friends through our local Boy Scout Troop #381. Shane and my two boys were involved in a TON of campouts and all the things "Boy Scouts" do. Shona and I had some camping experiences with the Troop. Some were down right COLD but... we always seemed to find humor in it all. She always had a smile and a kind word. I will miss her.  

You all are in our thoughts and prayers.

Gretchen, Steven and Matt Schmidt
Prairie Village, KS

From Paul Brian Thomas

I was Shona's graduate teaching assistant for World Civilizations during her very first semester at UMKC. It was also my first semester as a GTA and my second semester in graduate school. Even though we were both pretty green and trying to figure things out at UMKC, we had a great collaboration and the fruits of working with Shona still nourish me to this day. By never hesitating to ask me how I thought things were going in the class and seeking (and taking seriously) my input on various lessons and lesson plans, Shona modeled for me a collaborative approach to teaching that I still use to this day.

I was also a student of Shona's in various graduate seminars. I still have a fascination with the Black Death and her memorable lesson on how not to do research in history is a pedagogical technique I still use.

Granted, Shona's influence on this young historian was formative, but what I really miss is her easy smile. That smile was genuine and contagious.

All my best to Shona's family and friends.

From Doug Bowles

Some who may read this will know me as a member of the UMKC Economics faculty and a colleague of Randy and Shona’s. Those who do already know me will also know about my wife Saima, another beautiful young woman of around Shona’s age (and also our colleague, working for the UMKC Center for Economic Information). On November 1 of last year, Saima suffered a massive cerebral hemorrhage.  She spent two months fighting for her life in the ICU’s of St. Luke’s and KU Med Center hospitals here in Kansas City, then another two months of intensive inpatient rehab, followed by two more months in a day-long outpatient program.  Today she’s living at home, carrying out an ongoing self-managed therapy program, and anticipating returning to work by November of this year.  She’s looking forward to what amounts to a substantially complete recovery.

    Shona, tragically, was not so lucky.  And now, I find myself unable to emotionally separate these two events. The best way I can think to describe it for you is that Shona’s loss and Saima’s survival feel to me like two sides of the same coin.  You give it a toss, and you take your chances.  Your call . . . heads, or tails?

    Randy and I have always enjoyed a cordial professional relationship, and I’ve always had great admiration and appreciation for his work.  During their earlier years at UMKC, through Randy, I knew Shona in a casual social context.  Three or four years ago, though, she went out of her way to provide me with invaluable strategic support in a critical administrative battle over the academic doctoral program I direct.  Without her support, it’s a battle we could well have lost.  I and many others both in the Economics Department and in the university at-large, faculty and students alike, will always be grateful to her for the heroic service she rendered us at that time.  The intervening years, as is their wont, have flown by since then, and I didn’t have the chance see so much of Shona after that.  And now, of course, I wish I had.

    I haven’t seen or spoken with Randy since this happened.  But now, strange though it may seem, I feel much closer to him than I ever did before.  I hope when he gets back to Kansas City we can find some time to sit down together and share a bottle of wine.  I know it will do us both some good.

    Rest in peace, Shona Kelly Wray.

From Lois Huneycutt

Memories of Shona

I regret to say that I honestly didn't know Shona very well at all, but it was impossible not to like Shona, even with a rather cursory professional acquaintance.  I always looked forward to seeing her at the annual meetings of the Mid America Medieval Association, where she always had kind words for my graduate students, particularly those whose work touched on topics near and dear to her heart. We had children of similar ages, and there was always a little catching up to do about what our respective children had done to drive us just a little crazier since we last met. Even though we were always lighthearted about sharing anecdotes, Shona's deep love for her children and her enjoyment of motherhood always came through.

I was privileged to be a referee (I guess I can let that out now!) for the University of Missouri Research Board grant she applied to before making her final trip to Italy.  I was stunned by the scope, significance, and sophistication of the project.  I knew Shona was good, but I had no idea she was really that good -- that book would have made an academic star out of her.  The most extensive time I spent with Shona was when we ran into each other at the American Historical Association conference in San Diego; I think it was in January 2010.  Missouri was covered in a record amount of snow, and both of us were giddy about being in the land of oceans and palm trees and warmth!   Both of us were intent on seeing as much of the town as possible.  She talked me into doing a whale watching cruise that I'd been hesitant about.  I'm so glad I went; I'm so glad I got to see her outside of academia, even for a few hours.  I will miss her.