Arthur Eugene Moxley

Arthur Eugene Moxley

 

          I chose to learn about my Great Grandpa Moxley.  I chose to learn about him because I have never met him and I think that it is very important that we learn about our ancestors, and how their lives were.  I am so grateful for all the time my family has spent giving me this information.

          Arthur Eugene Moxley was born on July 12, 1928.  He was born in Greenwich, Connecticut, and he died on May 2, 2001 in Longmont, Colorado.

          He went to the University of Connecticut, and he also joined the Air Force.  While he was in the Air Force he married Ann Louise Koch. They were married on February 18, 1951.

          After he was married he lived in Biloxi, Mississippi.  Then they moved to Bourne, Massachusetts so he could go to a military base called Camp Edwards.  His oldest son Mark was born there.  When he got discharged from the Air Force, his family moved to New Haven, Connecticut where his daughter Claire was born.  Then the family of four moved to Poughkeepsie, New York where his son Roy was born.  They then moved to Red Oaks Mill, New York where his son Karl and his daughter Fern were born.  In the mid 1960's the family decided to move to Longmont, Colorado where Art lived for the rest of his life.

          Here are some memories from his children in their own words about their dad.

Mark

          Art was a Christian before joining the LDS church.  He found the LDS church to be a true reflection of the Christian faith and once he joined the LDS church he did his best to live its teachings.  He also respected others that did not share his beliefs. Cheryl and I are not LDS, yet he always respected our beliefs. Art served the LDS community in many ways and was always ready to volunteer for whatever he was called to do.  He led a Christian life in all respects and was always generous, loving and tolerant.  He did not look down on others and he was always helping people, regardless of their faith. His dedication to the Boy Scouts was a reflection of his Christian faith.

         
          Art was an Eagle Scout "back in the day" and he was a scout master ever since I can remember.  He was a scoutmaster long before any of his kids were old enough to be a scout.  I have lots of great scouting memories.  When I first joined scouts, Dad had a diverse group of kids in the troop: we had several older "tough" kids, a Jewish kid, a black kid and a Catholic kid in our troop. Dad loved them all and they respected him, even though many were not LDS.  Once we were participating in a Klondike Derby, which involves pulling a dogsled around a five mile course in the snow and of course camping in the snow. We had a black kid in our troop that wasn't dressed for winter conditions.  He was wearing low dress shoes, but he ran the whole event with the troop.  Needless to say, his feet were frozen at the end of the course.  Dad gave him his boots to warm up his feet. The scouts thought Dad was "cool" because he rode a motor scooter, which was not very common in that era.  Later he drove a Messerschmitt, which is a tiny three-wheeled car, also very cool and unusual.  Dad always gave his time to anyone that needed help.  I'm sure that he had a positive impact on many young men who were in his scout troops over the years.

            I say that Art was a Connecticut Yankee because he exhibited the typical Yankee traits of independence, stubborn-ness, practicality, thriftiness and the ability to fix almost anything. But he also said "don't fix it if it isn't broke". He loved to build things and just tinker in the shop.  He re-used everything.  He threw something away only when it was beyond any hope of repair or re-use. When he built a piece of furniture he used the wood that he had on hand.  He rarely bought new materials or new tools.  He rode a motor scooter and a Messerschmitt because they got really good gas mileage and that was important to him. He did not like to see anything wasted.  He saved and burned the tiniest sticks and scraps of wood in his wood stove.  Dad was a great help to us when we built our house. He brought materials up from Colorado, 300 miles, because he wanted to help.  He helped in all phases of construction. He helped pour the concrete walls.  He helped with the framing and wiring.  And he bought us a nice new wood stove that probably cost more than anything he'd ever bought for himself.

          From Mark I learned that my great Grandfather lived a Christian life, and he was dedicated to the scouting program.  

Claire

          When we were kids in Poughkeepsie, NY, our Dad was the branch (not Ward) President, was a home teacher, the scout leader, and taught Sunday School class for adults sometimes.  He would also take the time to help any friends, neighbors or acquaintances or even strangers when needed.  

          There was a little ice cream shop in our neighborhood that Dad would take us to once in a while.  He was friendly with the owner and at some point, told him that he was an electrical engineer and worked for IBM.  He also invited the man and his wife to come to our church some time.  I don't know if the owner of the ice cream shop ever did come visit our church, but one day when Dad was watching us while Mom was busy, the ice cream shop man called and asked Dad if he could come over to the shop  and take a look at the ice cream freezer.  It had stopped working and he couldn't afford to pay for an electrician or appliance repairman to make an emergency service call. So Dad grabbed his tools,  piled all of us kids into the car, and we drove to the ice cream shop.  When we got there, the owner was very happy to see Dad and took him to the back of the shop to look at the freezer.  The owner came back out while Dad worked on the freezer, and offered us kids all the ice cream we wanted because it was all melting.  After a while, our Dad came back, and told the owner the freezer was fixed.  He gave Dad some ice cream too, and thanked him over and over again.
          This just shows what kind of person your great grandfather was.

          When we (my siblings and I) were kids, we used to go ice skating on a pond in the Red Oaks Mill neighborhood.  It was a good sized pond and a lot of kids and their parents in the neighborhood would go ice skating there.  People would set up barbecue grills (the kind using charcoal, not gas), and bring picnics.  We usually stayed until our fingers and toes were numb and/or until it was too dark to see anymore.

          One Saturday, our whole family was there -- even Fern I think, although she would have been just a baby.  I was around 8 or 9 years old.  Dad enjoyed ice skating so he was out there skating some of the time too.  We all loved to "crack the whip".  That's where you have a line of people holding hands and skating around the pond in a big circle.  The person at the end that was in the middle of the pond would be skating in a very small circle, while everyone else holding hands was skating in a wider and wider circle.  The person on the end would be skating as fast as they could just to keep up.  When that person got too tired to keep going they would suddenly let go -- hopefully on the side of the pond with big soft snow banks!  Then they would go zooming across the pond into the snow on the side.  It was always better if  the person at the end of the line that was in the middle of the pond (beginning of the "crack-the-whip") was somebody big and strong, so my Dad was always happy to do that if he was there. So this Saturday the kids -- probably 15 or so -- were skating around and doing crack-the-whip and it got to be my turn to be on the end that went flying off into the snow bank.  Everybody let go their hands and off I went, zooming pretty much out of control, towards the edge of the pond.  On the way, I bumped into one of the older kids hanging out with his friends near the edge.  I thought at the time he was a pretty big, much older kid, but he probably was only 11 or 12 and not that much bigger than me.  He may have fallen down but it wasn't a bad fall and he got right up again.  But he was angry!!  And he had his friends all around him encouraging him to not let me get away with knocking him down.  I had gotten up from the snow bank and tried to skate away from the angry big kid and his friends, but they surrounded me and the kid I had knocked into, pushed me really hard, by my shoulders.  One of his friends stuck his foot out in back of me so I fell backwards really hard -- flat on my back on the ice.  It completely knocked the breath out of me.  I don't know if you have ever had that happen to you but it makes it so you can take a breath for a minute or so and in my case, I think I actually passed out for a few seconds.   When I came to, Dad was putting smelling salts under my nose.  He had been a boy scout and was a boy scout leader at the time, so he was always prepared!!   The big kid and his friends had started skating away (trying to be sneaky), but Dad saw them, made sure I was conscious and ok (which I was), and in his very loud and stern voice -- which you did not want to hear when you knew you had done something you shouldn't -- he called to the boys to stop and turn around.  At that point a few parents, probably of those boys, had come over too.  Dad did not scream and yell or threaten the boys.  I don't remember what he said, but the boys looked like they felt really bad, mumbled "sorry" at me walked off the ice.  Some of the adults came over to Dad and told him how sorry they were that the boys behaved that way and they hoped I wasn't hurt.  They said they would make sure that never happened again.  I went and sat by the fire and drank hot chocolate and felt very happy  that my Dad was there to save me.

          I learned from Claire that he helped people out and watched over his children.

Roy

          When I was about 11 or 12 we went camping down in New Mexico.  The first night we got to just south of the Colorado - New Mexico border.  The wind started blowing really hard just as we were setting up our pop-up camper.  It wasn't quite as fancy as the one you have, but we thought it was really great after years of camping in a big tent.  The wind was blowing so hard that when we started to set up the camper the roof got caught in the wind and was blown flat down against the side of the camper.  I figured that we would go stay in a hotel that night because the camper was obviously ruined.  Well, my Dad never gave up on anything.  He took out some pliers and a hammer and straightened out the poles and fastened them back onto the roof.  Then he got us all holding on together and we set it up.  He tied some heavy twine on the sides to make sure the poles didn't snap out and we slept (poorly) all night in the wind.  I don't remember much else about that camp-out but I always remembered that my Dad just wouldn't give up.

          The other story was when I was at scout camp at about age 14 and Dad was the scout master.  He was in scouting for as long as I can remember.  Dad wasn't there the first few nights and the older boys made it a tradition that when a new adult leader would arrive they would ambush him coming out of the tent and tie him up by the ankles and hoist him up into a tree. Well I wasn't involved (I was either too respectful or chicken) in doing that to any of the adults, but there was about 10 boys who were pretty big and they managed to do it without anyone getting hurt...that is until they tried to do it to my Dad.  Well about 5 of them jumped on him as he came out of the tent and another 5 tried to pile on.  It looked like a bunch of little dogs jumping on a big bear.  There were boys flying in all directions.  Really flying through the air 5 or 10 feet.  They never did manage to tie up Dad and some of them were pretty sore for the next couple of days.  The whole troop treated Dad with a little more respect after that.

 

          From Roy (my grandpa) I learned that he enjoyed the scouting program, and he never gave up.

 Karl

         Art's family didn't have to pay the dentist when he was young, because Great-grandpa Roy saved a dentists life on the Long Island Sound when the dentists boat sank and Roy was able to rescue him.

          Art tells of when he was a pre-teen and his brothers were teenagers, they built a Sears house.  The house pieces were delivered to the front lawn, where Great-grandpa Roy, Bob, Don and Art assembled the house onto the foundation.  A few years later, they wanted to add a dormer window to the attic bedroom.  The city required a permit and fee to make an addition like this, and a policeman who lived across the street would help enforce this law.  So, they pre-assembled the dormer in the garage, and during the night cut a hole in the roof and set the dormer over the hole.  They could make noise when the train went by.  This way, the policeman never noticed them building a dormer window addition.

          Art claims that since their backyard fence went along the tracks of the electric train that went from New York to Boston, Great-grandpa Roy was able to use inducted electrical current from his fence to power the house.  One day the railroad folks came and asked him politely to disconnect his fence from the house.

          Art tells a story from his boyhood in Greenwich when we took a small boat onto a mill pond for a spin on a cold, wintery day.  He wanted to see how close he could get the boat to where the water poured from the mill into the pond without swamping the boat.  Of course he got too close, and the boat sank, and Art was soaked to the skin in sub-freezing weather.  Great-great grandpa Roy was watching in the car, which had no heater, so he told Art to run home (to keep warm) while he followed in the car.

          I remember that I didn't go to scout camp, maybe because of scary things Art saw going on there when Roy went in 1971.  Anyway, instead of scout camp, in 1972 the troop went camping at Yellowstone.  Then in 1973 Art had Roy and I do a 50-miler canoeing in the Adirondack Mountains while the other boys in our troop in Vermont, where we lived from June, 1973 to May, 1974 (Art got his Masters degree in Electrical Engineering from the University of Vermont), were at scout camp.

        From Karl I learned that he had a great and difficult childhood, but he learned many important life lessons.

Fern

          Art used to like to sing really long songs, it was a good way to keep us kids from killing each other on road trips, another lengthy thing that us Moxleys' did, often.  He would sing  "Abdul A Bul, Bul Amir" I think that's how you spell it, you can find it on YouTube.  It's about two soldiers on different sides of the Crimean War, who had a scuffle that turned into a duel. Find it on YouTube, it's all there.  Our "Steak Road Show" came along and Dad, 'Great Grand Pa' decided to sing that song. Us kids all got to play parts.  Your Grand Pa, Roy was Abdul, Uncle Karl was the adversary, Ivan, and I was the Muscovite Maiden.  Your Great Grand Pa and your Uncle Karl and your Grand Pa Roy, made the coolest wooden swords for those soldiers to wield for those parts.  Everybody loved the song, I think your Great Grand Pa got a standing ovation.  Abdul's sword was a cool Scimitar with that awesome curved blade, it ended up with us and was in a pirate costume.

I learned from Fern that he liked to sing unusual songs to keep his kids from fighting.



  Here are some memories from his children in law's and grandchildren in their own words.

Carol Ann

          Great grandpa Art was a wonderful man.  From the time I married into the family he treated me like a daughter.  He was a good manager because he was good with people.  They could tell he was sincere and that he cared.  His job was electrical engineering but what he really loved was to create.  He loved his 10 acre gentleman's farm, with the garden, orchard animals and his shop best of all.  He loved wood working and from what I can tell experimented, read and worked out how to do what he created.  He loved rustic farmhouse style.  He made each family a cradle and the box of wood blocks.  He made kitchen carts and scout things.  He was proud of his invention that let a single man carry a sheet of plywood by himself. He loved all of his children and grandchildren and loved to be with them.  He loved and treasured without measure Great grandma Moxley.  He loved to sit beside her and read by the fire in the evening.  He loved to make those German Christmas stars together.  He was proud of all three sons accomplishments and choice of wives.  He was so proud of his daughter and the women they became.  It crushed his heart when his children separated from the church and remained loving and patient with them to draw them back one day, which I know will happen because they were raised so well.

            When I first came to their house Art argued with Karl and it concerned me, but as I listened to get ready to defend my new husband I discovered Great grandpa Art and his brothers love a good discussion argument.  They liked to play what is called Devil's advocate.   He loved and supported both the church and Scouting his whole life.  I still don't know why Karl didn't get his Eagle and wish I could ask him.  I know he wished that Ann would have traveled more with him.  But he would rather have stayed home then to go without her.

          I learned from Carol Ann he enjoyed his farm and he loved all of his grandkids.

Cheryl

          I always remember when Grandpa would come to our house that he lived to eat. I always made dishes I knew he loved. I think his favorite was the apple pie I made with apple juice and no sugar. I loved the way he made me feel like he was happy to have me as his daughter in law.

          From Cheryl I learned that he enjoyed a sugar free meal, and that he loved his daughter in laws.

Victor

          Your great-grandpa Moxley went on a picnic with my family.  We were eating sushi, and he saw a big green gob that looked tasty.  He exclaimed, "I love guacamoli!" and popped it in his mouth.  It was really wasabi, which was really spicy and made his face turn red and sweat like in a cartoon.

         

          I enjoyed this funny story from Victor.

 

Rachael
          My grandpa would always take us on long wagon rides behind his riding lawn mower in his pasture.  His pasture had lots of horses because they boarded them and they had lots of their own.  We got to go up close and see them.  He also took us on hikes to a lake behind their pasture.  He would always scare us that there was a mountain lions up there, so I was scared the whole time.  He would give us rides on the horses too.  Especially his horse Sadie.

 

          I learned from my mom (Rachael) that he enjoyed his property and loved showing it to his grandkids.

  Jesse         

         When I was done with my twelve trip with my twelve trip with my Grandma and Grandpa Legere, my Grandma and Grandpa Moxley drove me home, from Colorado to Wisconsin.  Before we left, I picked out a book from their library to bring with me.  Grandpa suggested that I pick Tarzan of the Apes.  I spent most of the drive reading it, because it was so good.  I was impressed that my Grandpa knew of such cool  books. And, it's still one of my favorites.  On the way Grandpa made sure we stopped at the cool historical attractions, like Buffalo Bill's house in Nebraska,  where we spent more than an hour picnicking and wandering around the museum.  And we camped in the van at a KOA, where Grandpa slept in the center aisle of the van...even though he was really too tall for it.

Some other fun things about Grandpa are.....

 

1. He had the coolest model train set in the top floor of the barn. It was so detailed, like a miniature world. There were tunnels and forests and rivers, and even people.

2. He love wood working, and he always smelled like wood. He would make things for us, just because we asked him to. 

 

3. He was always careful, and he would lecture us about being safe. No matter what we were doing he seemed to know that we were not going to be careful enough. So he would tell us stories of kids who weren't safe and ended up getting hurt...your Grandpa Moxley does the same thing too.    

      
          I learned from Jesse that he loved to spend time with his grandkids, and that he wanted them to always be safe.

          I enjoyed learning and writing this report. This report helped me get a glimpse of how my Great Grandpa's life was. I think that it is very important that we learn who our ancestors were and learn about their lives.

 

Done by Ella