I'll always remember Charlie Moore

This morning on CBS Sunday Morning, one of the last vestiges of "good television," the usual end-of-the-year feature to honor those who have died in 2013 was shown.

I generally get a little choked up during this kind of presentation. To lose anyone who has touched us in some way, even if it is just through an infinitesimal connection, I always feel a sense of loss.

As I watched, I had a moment, where I almost expected to hear the name Charles Moore, a man whose loss touched me much more deeply.

Of course, Charlie wasn't a national figure, and he wasn't well-known by a huge television audience, but perhaps he should have been. The world would be a better place if he had been known beyond his rural Grant Park home. It would have been better if folks had listened to him and the common sense he uttered.

I know those of us that knew him were better because we knew him. His sense of humor reminded me much of my own dear father. He liked to make people laugh. I don't know anyone that wasn't fond of him. Most who knew him adored him.

I met Charlie and his late wife Arlene on a fall night in a parking lot outside the Beecher Community Hall, a small town gathering place that served as a venue for weddings, birthday parties, and as a polling place. We, along with several other families  lingered there, talking about what we witnessed at an FAA meeting about the State of Illinois' plan to build a new mega-airport less than a few miles from where we stood. We were drawn together by our opposition to the huge 23,000-acre airport that simply made no sense. That was in 1987, the day RURAL, (Residents United to Retain Agricultural Land) was born. RURAL still endures, in the organization STAND, (Shut This Airport Nightmare Down). In nearly 30 years, the state has still been unable to sell their idea, despite millions of dollars and a huge succession of politicians who have tried and failed.

Charlie and Arlene knew instinctively that building such a huge airport would change the face of their rural homestead and all they held dear. For a long time, they were fierce competitors. Together we attended meetings, held picket signs, and spoke out against the airport. Arlene was more vocal, but she spoke for Charlie too. They were always together, usually hand-in-hand or walking with her arm tucked into his. I'll never forget one day when at a public meeting, she sat in the front row.

She raised her fist as she scolded, “This is about dollar signs in the eyes instead of dirt in the hands!”

The first time I visited them at their farm, I was greeted by a couple of guard geese. When we finally went inside, they apologized for the disorganization. They were remodeling their kitchen. I didn't notice. There was a warmth about the place. Along the far wall was the kitchen table. It was completely clear except for a bouquet of wild flowers. Behind it were huge plant-filled windows that overlooked a blue sky that seemed to go on forever. The foreground was golden with rows of stubble from last year's corn crop. At that instant, I knew what they were fighting for.

I retired and moved away several years later, but the images of the people I cared so much about were never far from my mind despite no longer being in contact. When I learned that Arlene had died, it was like a jolt. Since I was still writing for the local newspaper, I wrote about her. I was surprised when Charlie called to thank me for writing it. We had a lovely talk. It was just like old times. That was the last time I spoke to him, though he had been in my thoughts.

About a year ago, their daughter Colleen and I became friends on Facebook. I was so happy to hear from her, anxious to hear about her dad. Then, almost a year later, on Dec. 10 of this year, I was stung by the news of his death.

It is hard saying goodbye to Charlie. Both he and Arlene tried to never say goodbye, because it was so final. Instead, they insisted on saying, "see ya." That was always our parting phrase. In March 2006 I said goodbye to Arlene. It is with such sad regret that I must also say goodbye to Charlie.

Obituary: Charles Moore

Charles Moore

Charles W. Moore Sr., 84, of Grant Park, passed away Tuesday (Dec. 10, 2013) at Riverside Medical Center in Kankakee.

Visitation will be from 3 p.m. to 8 p.m. Sunday at Hub Funeral Chapel in Grant Park and again from 9:30 a.m. Monday until the 10:30 a.m. funeral services at St. Peter's United Church of Christ in Grant Park. Burial will follow in Heusing Cemetery, Grant Park.

Memorials may be made to the family's wishes.

Charles, known to many as Charlie, was born April 17, 1929, in Afton, Iowa, the son of Mable and Joseph Moore.

He was a Korean War veteran, having served his country proudly in the U.S. Navy from 1951-1954 as a gunner and ship baker. Returning from the Korean War, Charlie moved to Illinois, where he met his wife, Arlene "Maggie." They were married in Blue Island, where they started their family. Shortly after their marriage, Charlie began his career with Nicor Gas and became a systems operating supervisor, the position from which he retired in 1989 after 34 loyal years. Maggie and Charlie developed lifelong friendships through Nicor Gas. Maggie and Luke (the nickname Maggie gave her sweetheart) took their family to live the country life in 1970.

Charlie remained in the home Maggie and he created until his passing. Veggie and flower gardening were a passion for Charlie, as well as reading about his fellow shipmates in the military literature he received. Charlie loved the country living, the peaceful evenings with the coyotes "singing," and had a big heart for animals. He also enjoyed taking pictures of nature and attending the activities and events of his grandchildren, which kept him busy. Charlie was the beloved videographer at St. Peter's United Church of Christ, where he and his family attended for many years. After the love of Charlie's life and partner of 52 years, Maggie, passed away, he struggled to see joy in life and lost the twinkle in his eyes.

Charlie received a second chance at joy with Judy Lange. They brought laughter and companionship into each other's lives.
He was a past member of the Grant Park School Board, lifelong member of the Korean War Veteran's Association, active member of the American Legion and the U.S. LST Association. Charlie enjoyed playing on the dartball team at St. Peter's and serving on the memorial and pastoral relations committees. He was a proud participant in the annual Memorial Day Ceremony at the Community Park in Grant Park.

Surviving are two sons and daughters-in-law, Chuck and Elissa Moore, of Mazon, and Steve and Judy Moore, of Joliet; one daughter, Colleen Martin, of Grant Park; grandchildren, Jessie and Gina Martin, Adam Zickuhr, Andrew (Shelbi), Matt, Nick, Kayla, Anna, Kendra, Angela and Taylor Moore; special friend, Judy Lange; sister-in-law, Marcella Moore; many nieces, nephews, cousins and dear friends.

In addition to his wife and parents, Charlie was preceded in death by an infant daughter, Marie; a sister, Bessie June; and a brother, Joseph.