Memories of Dad (Jim Moore)

May 2, 2017

Richard Moore

My father, Jim Moore, passed away on January 26, 2017. We spread his ashes and had a celebration of life on April 29, 2017. In preparing for the celebration of life I started to write down some of my memories of dad as they came to mind. Here are the memories I wrote down during this time. They are not in any particular order and there are many more memories that I hope to write down in the coming months and years as they come to mind.

First Memory

My first memory of doing something with my dad was at nighttime. We went to a park where there was a creek, lake or river that was frozen over and went ice skating. Dad had his University of British Columbia beanie on and a older pair of leather ice skates, and I had a pair of dual blade skates that attached to the bottom of my shoes. It was dark and the only light was from streetlights on the street and a nearby bridge. For my part I remember being exciting and overjoyed at getting to skate despite it being cold and dark. Putting things together after the fact I am sure that dad got home from work at Canada Life late due to studying for his actuarial examines, and I must have been ready to go “skating” when he arrived home. Despite most likely being tried he bundled up and took me out skating and I remember him having fun having me skate between his legs. And in typical Jim Moore fashion he showed off his physical abilities by skating around while I watched in amazement.

Niagara Falls

During our summers in Toronto we would make many trips to Niagara Falls. All of us would pile into our Volkswagen Bug and drive around Lake Ontario to spend the day looking at the falls, locks, and picnicking among the old locks. I remember being at the locks before there were chainlink fences and you could walk up the the edge and look down on the ships as they were being raised through the locks. Even now it makes my heart race a bit to think of looking over the edge way down at the huge cargo ships and worrying about falling over the edge. I was always steadied and felt safe by grabbing and holding onto my dad’s hand. We would spend a fair amount of time walking and picnicking in the old locks that were usually beautiful green grass and trees. It was so peaceful and quiet there. I guess these days this wonderful memory is no longer a reality due to the building of townhouses and condos. Every trip included considerable time looking at the falls. I would beg and beg my dad to go on the Maid of the Mist boat that went to the bottom of the falls. Each time the response was no, it was too expensive. Many years later when I was preparing to take my children on a trip to Toronto and Niagara Falls dad mentioned I should go on the Maid of the Mist as it was an amazing experience! That he and Elba had really enjoyed it and it was worth the expense!!!

Ontario Camping

For many summers we would pack up a bunch of camping gear in and on top of our Volkswagen Bug to spend a week at the lake. I remember dad saying that we were so loaded down that it seemed like we would never make it up the long incline to the lake. We spent most of the time enjoying the beach at the lake and swimming. As typical of the midwest and Ontario there were many thunderstorms that we weathered in our old school canvas cabin tent with wood poles. I remember one really big storm with torrential rains and strong wings that started to blow down the tent. Dad went out into the storm as my mom was screaming due to her fear of thunderstorms and lightning. As the storm raged on with it’s rain, wind, and lightning/thunder dad was running around the tent trying to get the poles and stakes back into place so the tent would not completely collapse on his family.

Running

My memories of Dad running crossed many decades and went from being a spectator to running with him.

In Toronto I do not have many memories of his running, just one road race we went to watch and I was so excited when the pack came our way because dad was leading the race and I was sure he would win. What I did not know was dad was the official rabbit (which seemed strange given he was more of a consistent pace runner) to suck the world class runners out to a fast pace and then drop off after the first lap of the race. I can remember being disappointed when dad did not win and the other runners pushed past him for the second lap. I am sure it was also disappointing to him also as he most likely did not run a good time for the race due to being out so fast.

In Walnut Creek I remember dad packing Darrell, David, and myself in the car to drive over to Ygnacio Valley High School where he would meet some other runners to run pace workouts around the high school field while we would spend time finding treasures under the football stadium bleachers. Ironically, when I attended Ygnacio Valley and was a member of the cross country team we would run pace workouts around the very same field. During high school I would run cross country in the fall and many weekends dad and I would head out from our house and run along the canals, and up into the hills. I remember our runs up to the towers as dad would leave me in the dust and go to the top and then run back down quite a ways to join my slower pace back up the to top. I could never match his grinding pace mile after mile, but got wise and starting doing fartleks with him as I found I could easily out sprint him which never sat well with his competitive nature.

The only races I ran against dad were the Woodlands fourth of July road race that wound it’s way around our housing development neighborhood. My memory is of being on the starting line with dad and then seeing him disappear down the road to easily win the race year after year.

After college I returned to running and on visits dad and I would usually head out on runs and talk. Upon moving to Minnesota I did not run for many years and when I did return to running for a bit in my mid 40’s dad and I would head out for runs during visits. It was then that I noticed a pretty dramatic change in dad’s running, instead of me gasping for air and trying to keep up it was dad who was having problems keeping the pace (which was not all the fast) and I was having to slow down a bit for him. I remember mentioning this to Julie as it was so untypical of our runs, and now I know dad was already suffering the effects of Parkinson’s. On one visit to Piedmont dad got to run with his granddaughter Kristina and me on his favorite running trails in the hills around their house on Villanova. I feel very blessed to have shared in my dad’s favorite activity over the years.

Backpacking

It all started in 1970 when our neighbor Bill Spalding talked dad into doing a backpacking trip in Yosemite to Vogelsang Lake. That got the bug started with dad and I made at least the 19 trips with dad.

Yosemite (3 times, Vogelsang, Glen Aulin, Hetch Hetchy)
Hoover Wilderness (4 times)
Marble Mountain Wilderness (50 miler)
Minarets, Ansel Adams Wilderness (50 miler)
Emigrant Basin WIlderness (2 times, one 50 miler)
Desolation Wilderness
Yolla Bolly Wilderness (3 times)
Caribou Wilderness
Mokelumne Wilderness
Mineral King
John Muir Wilderness (my last trip with dad in 1992)

I really treasure the memories of these trips and how dad just seemed to really relax and enjoy the whole experience. He was such a pack mule that carry a big load and fly up the mountain passes.

With so many trips there are many memorable moments. For me the most memorable was our first trip the Yolla Bolly wilderness, especially the drive there and back. On the way there dad was his usual late getting home from work and we got stuck in the Memorial Weekend traffic jam of folks heading out of town for the weekend. After about 3 hours of driving we finally got free of traffic north of Santa Rosa and dad raced up 101 until we turned off to head up the Eel river. It got dark and when we got to the dirt road turnoff we needed to take in a very small town, it was not clear if that was the road we needed so dad went into the bar to get directions. Reassured that the dirt road was the correct way dad raced down the road at high speed. A few miles later the road turned 90 degrees with no warning and we did not make the turn and went into a farm pasture (cannot remember if we broke the fence). Undeterred, dad had us 4 boys jump out of the car and push while he had the car in reverse to get out of the field. We were able to get the car back on the road and we took off again at high speed. We made it to the campground to spend the night sleeping on the ground about midnight. We got settled in and were sleeping when about 2 or 3 in the morning a big group of locals came into the campground to party well into the morning. Early in the morning, after a sleepless night, we piled back into the car and took off for the trailhead. Racing along we saw the sign for the ranger station turn off too late and dad skidded to a stop and put the car in reverse. In backing up and turning the car dad did not see that the road dropped off into a deep ditch and one of the back wheels went off the road. We all piled out of the car quickly. When we determined the car was not going to slide down the hill into the ditch dad had us try to push the car from the back while he drove, but the car keep going over the edge of the road more and more. After much discussion, we remembered that there was a campground a few miles back where we had seen some trucks. Dad took off running down the road and came back pretty soon with a man in a big 4 wheel drive truck. They hooked up a chain to the car and pulled it back onto the road. We got our permits and took off hiking into the wilderness. It was a fun long weekend of swimming, looking for all the bears people told us about but never found, and fishing for steelhead. On the way back out we were the last people to cross an old hiking bridge across the river. After we crossed over the rangers blew the bridge up with dynamite, quite the sight. The car trip home was not as eventful, but we did get caught in the return traffic jam going down 101 and our old Chevy Station wagon keep overheating. Again undeterred, dad sent us down to the river with camping pots to get water to put in the radiator. Of course we had wait for the car to cool down enough to take off the radiator cap so we spent the time swimming in the river.

Another fun adventure was my last 50 miler in Emigrant Basin wilderness. At the last moment the other adult who was supposed to help lead the trip had to go away for work. Dad decided that he would head into the wilderness with 10 boy scouts on a 7 day adventure. I asked dad many years later why he did that, and he said that he knew the 10 boys going and that he know they were very well trained in first aid and had ample wilderness experience if things went wrong. On our third night out, a good 20+ miles into the wilderness, when we got to camp it started to really storm with lightning and rain. We quickly set up our tents and tube tents and got in them. Being late August the temperature started to drop and soon it began to snow heavily. By the time the snow let up we had about 4-5 inches of snow. We were able to start a big fire and cook dinner and dry things out. There was discussion around what to do, should we pack back out or continue? Would people be looking for us? Since it was getting dark we stayed put and slept the night there since everybody was fine and equipped for the cold. The next morning the sun came out and started to melt the snow away and we decided to stay the course and continue the hike as planned and completed the 50+ miles.

Dad was always looking for a chance to get a backpack trip in if possible. When I decided to take a few days and go up and look at Chico State as a University to attend dad looked at the maps for the closest wilderness area we could tackle. He found the Caribou Wilderness just north of Lake Amador and so we threw our backpacking gear in the car. After looking at Chico, we jumped into the car and raced up to the trailhead. We managed to hike the 8 miles to our first campsite just at dusk and got a fire started and spent the time talking about the University and my future. It turned out the Caribou Wilderness was fairly flat and small so we managed to hike most of it the next two days spending the next night at another lake for a peaceful and reflective time together.

Books and Classical Music

Most nights after work and dinner, dad would retire to the front room of our house on Bayberry Drive and listen to classical music on the radio and read. I was always amazed that he could read for 3-4 hours at a time and he would finish off books quickly and put them on his every growing collection of books on the shelves. I remember when he decided to upgrade to a real stereo system and I went out with him as his “stereo expert” to help him select a system. The salesman and I kept trying to get dad to let loose with his wallet a bit and buy a really nice system that would play the classical music he loved with high fidelity. Dad did come up a bit from the lowest priced system to get one that did a nice job playing classical music. He listened to that stereo for years until it was stolen from his and Elba’s house in Piedmont.

For years we would watch TV in the family room and dad would sit in the front room reading and enjoying music. I finally figured out that he did not mind me coming in and sitting on the couch with him. We would talk and listen to classical music, it was then that I started to learn about the composers and their style of music. At times I would ask for fatherly advice on many subjects from girls to money and he always answered the questions logically and calmly.

One summer one of the main Bay Area symphonies was playing at the Concord Pavilion and I purchased tickets for us to go for his father’s day present. It was a beautiful evening and we sat on the grass enjoying the live performance of many of the pieces we had listened to together on the couch.

I was always amazed on how dad seemed to have instant recall on any book he had read. I wish I had inherited that ability, but feel blessed that his love of reading started me on a lifetime of exploring books and learning.

Pike’s Peak

Dad was always one for adventure and on our drive from Toronto to San Francisco we stopped by Pike’s Peak in Colorado. Upon seeing the price for the cog train to the top, dad decided we could drive up to the top and save the money. So the five us, all our luggage, and two cats headed up the mountain in our station wagon. Dad drove his typical formula one style of driving up the dirt road to the top while mom screamed and gasped since she was on the side of the car that could see over the edge of the road down the mountain. We made it to the top safe and sound, but then had to make the trip down the dirt road again while the brakes were smoking.

Travels

Visiting over 25 countries and most of the United States, dad was a well seasoned traveler. Looking through the many albums that Elba put together of their travels there were many countries and trips I did not even remember them making as we were busy trying to raise three children. During later visits with Dad and Elba we would mention places we were thinking of going, and every time they would say “oh we went there”. A couple of these in particular are the Camino de Santiago and the Natchez Trace trail. Julie and I had read books on the Camino de Santiago and mentioned to dad and Elba that we were thinking of walking the route. They casually mentioned that they had biked the Camino and Elba pulled out a photo album to show us their amazing journey, gave us some books on the Camino, and they told us about their amazing experiences from the their trip especially seeing the swinging of the Botafumerio in the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela. I never even remember them going on that bike ride or maybe it was that they were just doing yet “another” bike ride in Europe. Another time we mentioned that we wanted to do a bike ride on the Natchez Trace trail in the southern United States, and again they casually mentioned “oh yeah that is a real nice trail we rode it a few years ago”. Elba again pulled out the album and they talked about their wonderful experience.

Going to Dad’s Work

Shortly after we moved to Walnut Creek, I went to visit dad at his Chevron office in San Francisco. Dad went off to work at his normal time and I caught a later bus to San Francisco. When I arrived at the main bus terminal dad was waiting for me and we walked through the streets of the city to the Chevron building and up to his office. He showed me around a bit and introduced me to some of his co workers. By then it is was lunch time so we walked to Chinatown and had a fun lunch. When we got back to the office dad had a meeting he had to go to so he put me to work calculating a bunch of numbers for him. I sat at his desk and ran the calculator to crunch the numbers dad needed calculated. Every so often somebody would walk by and ask who the new employee was. When dad returned he looked through all the numbers and commented that the results were different than what he was expecting. He ran a few of the calculations himself and got the same results I did and he was satisfied that I had done the number crunching properly. At the end of the day we walked back to the bus terminal and got one of the double level Greyhound buses back to Walnut Creek. I was excited to be on the upper level in the front seat so we could see everything. Dad for his part took out a book to read, Steppenwolf, and read for a bit and then promptly fell asleep most of the way home.

keywords: Memories,Memoirs,Jim Moore

description: Memories of my dad Jim Moore