It is 1995 in Guatemala and the winter chill is setting into the pitch-black night. Oliver Ray lies amidst a wild coffee bean orchard outside of Lake Atitlán.
His lower half is soaked with blood, but it isn’t the blood that drives him to the idea of death; it’s the sight of his femur protruding from his left leg.
With rapid blood loss and no way to even stand up, Ray makes a decision. He’s not going to die—not tonight and not in this coffee field.
Today he owns a micro-roastery café on South Sixth Avenue. Café Aquí serves organic, fair-trade coffee from around the world to mocha enthusiasts and weary-eyed Tucsonans on their lunch break.
“I always thought that was my coffee communion,” Ray says. “Isn’t that interesting that that happened? I mean, little did I know then that I’d be doing [coffee roasting] now.”
Seventeen years ago, Ray dropped his Calvin Klein modeling gig, packed a few clothes in a duffle bag and left the materialistic clutches of New York City for Guatemala.
“It felt like a powerful, powerful place,” says Oliver. “So I thought, ‘I’m just going to stay here forever.’”
One night, as Ray was trudging along a mountain path in the Guatemalan forest, he stumbled off a 30-foot cliff—a cliff that should have claimed his life.
Crawling down the rugged mountainside of the San Pedro volcano, Ray sang the “Happy Days” theme song to keep himself calm. It was at the bottom of the mountain when he came across wild coffee bean plants that he picked for food.
The beans gave him enough energy and natural caffeine to help him continue through the darkness, dragging his damaged leg through the woods.
Ray says he resembled a “bloody gringo” as he crawled out to the edge of the forest where a Mayan farmer found him and took him to the nearest hospital.
After returning home to New York City for surgery a week after the incident, Ray joined influential punk rocker Patti Smith and her band on a world tour.
“She restructured my mind,” Ray said, “and took me from that kind of kid who romanticized darkness and taught me about what it was to be an artist.”
In pursuit of his own artistic expression, Ray made it back to Guatemala 10 years later to buy land. The land boasted a plethora of wild coffee plants, encouraging him to learn the trade of bean roasting.
Ray, 38, still plays guitar locally with bands like Saint Maybe. He keeps his youth with his facial scruff and long, golden brown hair pulled behind his ears. He is always smiling and wanting to converse with his custumers.
Ray’s micro-roastery at 1317 S. Sixth Ave. is gaining momentum after only five months in operation by selling coffee beans by the pound to local restaurants Mother Hubbard’s Café and Café Milagro, and providing beans, espressos, or just a cup ‘o joe to anyone needing a caffeine fix.
However, Ray doesn’t do coffee that’s been sitting in a bag for a month or pre-ground oxidized coffee. Café Aquí’s organic coffee is shipped from all over the world from fair-trade farms in Ethiopia, Costa Rica or Mexico. And customers appreciate the fine coffee and the ambience.
“I thought it had a nice atmosphere,” says Charlotte Keller, who works in the area.
A drum set laced with orange Christmas lights and various Les Paul electric guitars accompany the living room of the café. Guitar pedals hide beneath a table holding pots of roasted coffee beans. Dozens of records ranging from Eric Clapton to James Brown are stacked in the corner next to an old record player.
With Bob Dylan’s “To Ramona” setting the calm, harmonius mood, the place seems like a musician’s apartment—a musician who happens to have a coffee bean roaster the size of a printing press.
Keller says the only other person in the café when she visited was a homeless man and his dog. She bought a pound of coffee beans and a cup of coffee for herself. She bought another cup of coffee for the homeless man. When she asked the price, Ray responded with, “Whatever you want to pay.”
“I remember thinking, how on earth is he going to make any money here,” Keller says. “Maybe he’s not in it to make money.”
Café Aquí does reflect a homey and casual vibe, but Ray is still interested in turning a profit.
And profit comes from quality. “It’s a rarity to find a place that practices the art of coffee making,” says Sarah Johnson, the cafe’s only employee.
She worked as a barista in the rich, coffee-cultured city of Portland, Ore., for eight years, and is picky when it comes to the perfect cup of espresso. She didn’t think she would find a place in Tucson that would satisfy her particular taste.
“When you grow up in a place that has such a strong coffee culture, you grow to expect it,” Johnson says. “This guy knows what he’s doing.”
Ray has been perfecting the art of coffee roasting and making in his café, but his near-death experience in the bean field continues to inspire him in business and in life.
“If you are too shy of failing, nothing can ever happen,” Ray says.
“Coffee roasting is like a microscopic version of what happens in life. You gotta let it out to the world and see what happens.”
It is 1995 in Guatemala and the winter chill is setting into the pitch-black night. Oliver Ray lies amidst a wild coffee bean orchard outside of Lake Atitlán.
His lower half is soaked with blood, but it isn’t the blood that drives him to the idea of death; it’s the sight of his femur protruding from his left leg.
With rapid blood loss and no way to even stand up, Ray makes a decision. He’s not going to die—not tonight and not in this coffee field.
Today he owns a micro-roastery café on South Sixth Avenue. Café Aquí serves organic, fair-trade coffee from around the world to mocha enthusiasts and weary-eyed Tucsonans on their lunch break.
“I always thought that was my coffee communion,” Ray says. “Isn’t that interesting that that happened? I mean, little did I know then that I’d be doing [coffee roasting] now.”
Seventeen years ago, Ray dropped his Calvin Klein modeling gig, packed a few clothes in a duffle bag and left the materialistic clutches of New York City for Guatemala.
“It felt like a powerful, powerful place,” says Oliver. “So I thought, ‘I’m just going to stay here forever.’”
One night, as Ray was trudging along a mountain path in the Guatemalan forest, he stumbled off a 30-foot cliff—a cliff that should have claimed his life.
Crawling down the rugged mountainside of the San Pedro volcano, Ray sang the “Happy Days” theme song to keep himself calm. It was at the bottom of the mountain when he came across wild coffee bean plants that he picked for food.
The beans gave him enough energy and natural caffeine to help him continue through the darkness, dragging his damaged leg through the woods.
Ray says he resembled a “bloody gringo” as he crawled out to the edge of the forest where a Mayan farmer found him and took him to the nearest hospital.
After returning home to New York City for surgery a week after the incident, Ray joined influential punk rocker Patti Smith and her band on a world tour.
“She restructured my mind,” Ray said, “and took me from that kind of kid who romanticized darkness and taught me about what it was to be an artist.”
In pursuit of his own artistic expression, Ray made it back to Guatemala 10 years later to buy land. The land boasted a plethora of wild coffee plants, encouraging him to learn the trade of bean roasting.
Ray, 38, still plays guitar locally with bands like Saint Maybe. He keeps his youth with his facial scruff and long, golden brown hair pulled behind his ears. He is always smiling and wanting to converse with his custumers.
Ray’s micro-roastery at 1317 S. Sixth Ave. is gaining momentum after only five months in operation by selling coffee beans by the pound to local restaurants Mother Hubbard’s Café and Café Milagro, and providing beans, espressos, or just a cup ‘o joe to anyone needing a caffeine fix.
However, Ray doesn’t do coffee that’s been sitting in a bag for a month or pre-ground oxidized coffee. Café Aquí’s organic coffee is shipped from all over the world from fair-trade farms in Ethiopia, Costa Rica or Mexico. And customers appreciate the fine coffee and the ambience.
“I thought it had a nice atmosphere,” says Charlotte Keller, who works in the area.
A drum set laced with orange Christmas lights and various Les Paul electric guitars accompany the living room of the café. Guitar pedals hide beneath a table holding pots of roasted coffee beans. Dozens of records ranging from Eric Clapton to James Brown are stacked in the corner next to an old record player.
With Bob Dylan’s “To Ramona” setting the calm, harmonius mood, the place seems like a musician’s apartment—a musician who happens to have a coffee bean roaster the size of a printing press.
Keller says the only other person in the café when she visited was a homeless man and his dog. She bought a pound of coffee beans and a cup of coffee for herself. She bought another cup of coffee for the homeless man. When she asked the price, Ray responded with, “Whatever you want to pay.”
“I remember thinking, how on earth is he going to make any money here,” Keller says. “Maybe he’s not in it to make money.”
Café Aquí does reflect a homey and casual vibe, but Ray is still interested in turning a profit. And profit comes from quality.
“It’s a rarity to find a place that practices the art of coffee making,” says Sarah Johnson, the cafe’s only employee.
She worked as a barista in the rich, coffee-cultured city of Portland, Ore., for eight years, and is picky when it comes to the perfect cup of espresso. She didn’t think she would find a place in Tucson that would satisfy her particular taste.
“When you grow up in a place that has such a strong coffee culture, you grow to expect it,” Johnson says. “This guy knows what he’s doing.”
Ray has been perfecting the art of coffee roasting and making in his café, but his near-death experience in the bean field continues to inspire him in business and in life.
“If you are too shy of failing, nothing can ever happen,” Ray says.“Coffee roasting is like a microscopic version of what happens in life. You gotta let it out to the world and see what happens.”
It is 1995 in Guatemala and the winter chill is setting into the pitch-black night. Oliver Ray lies amidst a wild coffee bean orchard outside of Lake Atitlán.