Teaching communication means getting people to tell their stories， but Ray could tell you how much he missed playing his guitar without speaking. Sometimes he moved his hands across the air as if he were playing his favorite blues scale. He always gave me a slight nod when he saw me come into the chapel for the meeting. He loved sharing his guitar stories. Although he had been an inmate at Gander Hill for over a decade， he always had a song in his head， in particular one that he said he had been writing in his mind since his arrival. He looked forward to playing again the way a child counts the days until summer vacation.
When my group formally established itself at Gander Hill， the men were allowed a night of celebration to which they could invite one or two family members. The night of the celebration was just like Christmas for them. They huddled with their loved ones， whom they had not seen or touched in several months or longer. Since his family lived in Texas， no one came to the celebration as Ray' s guest， but he waited patiently for me to arrive. As he rehearsed his song in his head， I walked into the prison with a guitar.
Ray tuned that guitar as if he were putting his life back into harmony. I have never heard a guitar tuned like that before or since. He looked at me over his shoulder and nodded a thank-you before bringing his song to life on the guitar. I watched Ray' s fingers dance across the strings as if they were himself， running free. And for those few moments， he was.
到1993年春天，我已骗去过甘达尔山监狱好几次了。这个时候，我见到了雷。父亲带领一个小组在那里教授犯人们学习交流和说话的技巧。我是一名大四的学生，言语交际是我的主修课。后来，我在甘达尔山组织了自己的学生志愿小组。
教授怎样交际就得让他们讲述自己的故事，然而雷不用任何言语就能告诉你，他是多么想弹吉他。有时候，他的双手在空中飞舞着，就好像他在弹奏着他最钟爱的布鲁斯曲调。每次他看到我走进小礼拜堂组织集会的时候，都会冲着我轻轻地点点头。他很高兴能够有人分享他的吉他故事，尽管在甘达尔山监狱已骗住了十几年，可是他的头脑中骗常回**着乐曲，尤其是那首他说刚进来时就在他头脑中写好的歌。他盼望着能够再次弹奏吉他，仿佛孩子在一天天地数着，巴望着暑假快快到来一样。