Emmit Dale Moore

A TRIBUTE TO EMMIT MOORE: ONE WRITER'S MEMORIES OF HIS HONORARY FATHER Technically I suppose it should be a bit difficult to feel sad about the passing of a man who has lived as long as Emmit lived. And to be honest I can't quite wrap my mind around the idea that my father figure, whose approval, support, and encouragement, which has been such a big motivating factor in my work, won't be there anymore whenever I return to visit Detroit. So, yes, there is a feeling of loss in this writer, and a touch of sadness as well. But there is also such an amazing sense of celebration that Emmit achieved what most of us aim for: the Century Mark - 100 years on this planet! "Emmit, you're an inspiration to all of us," I used to tell him. He'd just shrug that off. "I've been blessed with pretty good genes," he'd reply, and around the age of 98, he'd add his stock response: "but I've slowed down a bit now." I think we were all quite amused by that. As a writer, one often tries to distill a man down to his essence, his core, to build a character that works in a particular piece. Without that process, your character will have no spine. Emmit Dale Moore definitely had a spine. His roots were anchored in the fertile soil of Southern Illinois where he was born, and all his life he seemed to personify the solid American Christian values of the farm where he spent the first 6 years of his life before the family moved to Detroit. He was surrounded by a loving mother and father, and a group of 6 older siblings: 1 sister and 5 brothers - all of whom he outlived. I can only surmise that it was from these family roots that Emmit got his determination to get the job done with no nonsense; his love of his own family: wife Yvonne, son Doug, and daughter Nancy Morse; his deep abiding faith in God; and his thankfulness to God for a good life. He once told me that he never expected to live so long, but those of us who knew him were very thankful that he did. My personal relationship with Emmit goes back a very long way. Legend has it that Doug and I met at the advanced age of 3 years old when our respective mothers were wheeling us in strollers around our Northeast Detroit neighborhood after my dad had opened Waltham Pharmacy at Waltham and Six Mile. As we grew up, our families became very close. I spent as much time at the Moore's house as my own, and Doug and I became brothers. I have a specific memory (around the age of 6, I think) of Emmit sneaking me up the back stairs of the hospital to visit Doug when he'd had an eye operation. I never would have had the Boy Scout experience if Emmit hadn't taken Doug and I to the local troop at Wilkins School and assisted our scoutmaster. And then there were the trains. To say that Emmit had a great love of trains is actually an understatement. I can remember the incredible model trains that dominated the basement of the house on Racine. And I remember when he grabbed Doug and I off the street, took us to observe the last run of a specific train, and nimbly climbed an overpass to take pictures of it speeding past - while Doug and I watched with only moderate interest. We all stayed close through Osborn High School days when I became President, and Doug Vice President, of our graduating class in 1962. And the Moore family was there for us when my own father died shortly after that graduation. When I left Detroit for UCLA and a Hollywood screenwriting career, Emmit always stayed in touch. He was like a proud and encouraging father to me - he even wrote a passionate letter to the Detroit News that they needed to do a story on this native son. Unfortunately, they did not heed his advice, but I never forgot his efforts on my behalf. I didn't actually return to Detroit until the early 1990s. What really impressed me most about the older Emmit was his devotion to Yvonne. When she was sick, he'd cook for her and took care of her until her death in 2003. He showed the same devotion to, and care of, his daughter, Nancy Morse, and did his best for her until her untimely death in 2006. Emmit was a life-long Detroit Tigers fan, and I had the pleasure of taking him to games in 2007, 2008, and finally in 2009. He loved looking at the various historical displays around the stadium and relating his personal experiences from those early years. Sadly though, after that last game we attended, when the crowds were streaming past us, and he couldn't keep up with the pace, he suddenly announced that he wouldn't be coming back the next year. Emmit was not the kind of man, who would let someone take him to a ball game in a wheel chair, but he was most pleased that I'd managed to increase Doug's interest in the team considerably, and that's an interest Doug and I share to this day. Also in 2008 and 2009, I spearheaded 2 special home-cooked Thanksgiving celebrations with Emmit as the guest of honor. The first was at Doug and Nancy Wowk's house in Port Huron. I screened "A Christmas Story" that day, and Emmit really loved the film, which reminded him so much of his own past. In 2009, we all gathered again at Emmit's house in Eastpointe. What was most touching to me about that occasion was Emmit reading several of the war letters that he and Yvonne wrote back and forth, their love for each other saturating the prose. The last time I saw Emmit in person was at his joyous and wonderful 100th Birthday celebration in 2012, organized by his grand-nephews, Bob and Jim Cochran. We talked about his life for hours that weekend, and he was very grateful, if a bit overwhelmed, by all the attention he was getting. But I'll never forget the challenge of trying to get him to the restaurant after he insisted the computer route using freeways was all wrong - that we'd be hours late - and we should have taken 8 Mile all the way there. When we got to the destination half an hour early, he admitted freely that he was wrong and that the computer had it right. But then after the reception, he insisted again we take 8 mile back. It turned out to be a very long journey on that damp October night. Speaking of driving, it might be of interest to note that Emmit finally gave up his car in the Spring of 2013, even though he'd renewed his license at 100. It was a bit of a relief to the family that he finally stopped driving. You have not lived dangerously until you've been picked up by Emmit at the airport and driven back to his house during rush hour as I was in 2004. He would cut across lanes of heavy traffic without much regard to other cars (to put it mildly), and that car ride was quite an adventure to say the least! Increasingly feisty as he got older, Emmit never complained when he started sliding downhill about a year ago - he had cut his own lawn and shoveled snow until his late 90s. After he broke his hip, it was "discomfort", never pain. "You gotta take it as it comes, can't do anything else but," became his new stock phrase, and although amusing to most of us, it did perfectly reflect his stoic, gritty determination to just keep going on with things and deal with them the best he could. Emmit was also deeply, deeply appreciative of all the help Doug and Nancy W. gave him in the last years of his life. He once told me he could have never stayed in his house for as long as he did without Nancy's help (he lived independently until he was nearly 101, think about that for a moment!), and he was very thankful that Doug diligently called him every day to make sure he was okay. The question that has plagued me in the last few days was: how do you say goodbye to a man you've known for the entire arc of your cognitive memory? The answer was simple: you don't say goodbye - you remember. And I'll cherish my memories of Emmit for as long as I live. So, thanks, Emmit, knowing you has enriched my life - and so many others - immeasurably. Visitation for Mr. Moore will be Wednesday one hour prior to Funeral at 1 pm , A.H. Peters Funeral Home 20705 Mack Ave. at Vernier Road, Grosse Pointe Woods.

Funeral Home:

A. H. Peters Funeral Home of Grosse Pointe

20705 Mack Avenue

Grosse Pointe Woods, MI

US 48236