Gale Joseph Moore
1921–2015

The moment I started thinking about how to describe my father, words came to my brain too fast for my fingers to type. His long life was exactly like him: gentle and easy-going.
Passionate:
At age 10, my dad leaned up against the hide of the Guernsey he was milking and listened to the planes cruise over the dairy farm towards Mines Field (LAX). He might have looked like he was daydreaming, but he was focused on what he wanted to do: fly. And fly he did. He had 36 years with over 9,000 hours flight experience in over 50 different types of aircraft. He worked as a helicopter test pilot and an executive pilot for his hero, Howard Hughes. It doesn’t get better than that.
Gifted:
How many of us actually do the work that encourages our gifts to blossom?
Not many. Dad had the perfect personality for flying, especially testing.
He was meticulously detailed, thoughtful, and moved like a snail. Mmmm. Isn’t there someone else in the family who drives in “first gear?”
Not all is perfect with the gifted individual doing exactly what they are meant to do. My brothers and I did not see our dad much in our younger years and we missed those childhood memories. I think I made up for it later with long visits to his property in Mariposa, close to Yosemite. He taught me how to use a chain saw, drive a tractor, and make fresh barrel-squeezed apple juice.
Flowed With Life:
Nobody I know goes along with what the day brings, better than my dad.  He was easy-going, open-minded, and mindful before it was popular. I knew him to make lists with his slanted, all uppercase, mechanical-engineer-style letters, and I also witnessed him being easily distracted with the present, and the list would be forgotten.
He had few worries, except finances. I observed that being fearful and tight with money seemed to keep one from having more. Lesson learned.
Humorous:
Dad did not tell scripted jokes. He just poked fun at things happening right in front of him. His grin and sparkly eyes got right to the point. As he aged, he’d laugh, “I’m just an old fart.”  His commentary about life, and himself was a delight. One of his favorites, after he would accomplish anything, large or small, “Damn, I’m good!”
Storyteller:
You knew a good one was coming when Dad would clear his throat a few times, “Uh-ah-ahem, ahem. Well, one time when…” He told fabulous stories, and he was a polished storyteller using the right pauses, vocalizations, gestures and grins.
Social:
He loved being around people, and in his last years he enjoyed living in a large facility. He would make his rounds pushing his wheelchair, signing in at the front desk, and greeting everyone. I would call him and although he was unsure who I was, or how to describe what was happening around him, he would say with conviction , “Well, ahem, we are very busy here. We have some projects we need to take care of. I better go.”

Whenever I told him about something I had accomplished, was presently doing, or especially coming for a visit, there was never a hesitation, “Won-der-ful!”

I’m heading out to buy two things:
Original ChapStick and a bar of Lava soap.
Now that’s my dad!

P.S. Hey Dad, somehow I know Mr. Hughes will greet you with
new flight plans.