We lost a member of our newspaper family two weeks ago.

But why?

As his colleagues, we celebrated the 38 years that Ronnie Moore was on the news staff.

There was a certain pride when he wore a rugby shirt or the team jersey of a British football (soccer) team to work. He was proud of his service in the U.S. Air Force and of having met his wife, Diane, while stationed abroad.

We learned only later, as was typical of Ronnie, that he was on an Air Force base but was part of Army intelligence.

Ronnie’s demeanor reflected his military training: somewhat cautious, reserved but totally reliable and credible.

As he contemplated retirement, he discussed the six-week trip to Europe, retracing a few steps from the past, including a visit to the concentration camps that took the lives of many innocent victims of a world war.

To remember Ronnie Moore as a journalist is to turn back the calendar.

He worked for the afternoon newspaper in Chattanooga as the copy from hot-lead Linotype machines was replaced by blue Selectric typewriters from IBM, white paper and blue marking pens for corrections. Cold type described the typewriter-delivered copy.

In the Free Press newsroom in the early 1970s, several reporters spent the first several hours writing obituaries before hitting the street for an assigned story or to make the rounds at the courthouse.

Ronnie was the weather guy, calling the local weather service to record the forecast for the next day and leaving meticulous instructions for those on the weekend shifts as to how to gather the weather accurately.

On Groundhog Day, without fail, he was charged with putting together a story and a photograph on this memorable event. Some in the newsroom were never sure why the afternoon newspaper held this furry-animal tradition in such esteem, but Ronnie delivered every year. When no groundhog was within sight, a stuffed version that somewhat resembled the real thing served as an appropriate photographic stand-in.

Also without fail, he would walk several blocks up 11th Street and cut over to the federal building on Georgia Avenue, spending the remainder of the day in courtrooms, with federal law enforcement officials or the U.S. attorneys.

Jumping ahead almost 25 years, Ronnie’s journalistic world changed. The hours remained essentially the same, but the technology was not.

An up-to-date computer system that included a device called a mouse replaced the meticulous keystrokes required to enter

content into a DOS-based process.

He moved to the reorganized region team, a seasoned veteran among a group of recent college graduates. The tools of his trade included the traditional reporter’s pad and pen but also a digital camera, an audio recorder and ultimately a video camera.

A complete transition that reflects the changes in his chosen field over more than three decades.

For everything that changed, there were some constants with Ronnie Moore.

He worked hard. He took pride in what he did. He bored into the details. He was reliable.

He left unexpectedly and probably with some business unfinished.

But we had an opportunity to share memories and tell stories (most of which contained some semblance of truth), and we know that Ronnie Moore always will be part of our newspaper family.

To reach Tom Griscom, call (423) 757-6472 or e-mail tgriscom@timesfreepress.com

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