{"id":9205,"date":"2014-05-14T08:31:49","date_gmt":"2014-05-14T15:31:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/?p=9205"},"modified":"2015-05-05T14:22:53","modified_gmt":"2015-05-05T21:22:53","slug":"my-story-an-interlude-a-wyomingan-once-removed","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/2014\/05\/14\/my-story-an-interlude-a-wyomingan-once-removed\/","title":{"rendered":"My Story, an interlude . . . A Wyomingan Once Removed"},"content":{"rendered":"

Years ago, when extended family members were asked to write something of their backgrounds, I was also invited. The following is an excerpt of what I wrote then.<\/strong><\/p>\n

We drove to Wyoming from the East to be part of a family reunion of the Moores. It was the first of a number of such times. I’d never been there, or seen any of these people that I was just learning I was related to. I was suddenly becoming aware of what it was to be a Moore, a unique heritage, and that rooted in a unique land. F<\/em>or me Wyoming has held special\u00a0qualities ever since.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\"Sterling-cropped\"<\/a><\/h6>\n

But these Moores, they were like giants in the land, big sequoias with broad smiles and ready laughs. And there were so many of them, relating\u00a0together in every room of that house that Grandpa built in Rawlins before I was imagined. That day they didn’t even see little me or realize that I hardly knew where I was.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Finally\u00a0I learned to know them all, but I remember one in particular, Sterling, my dad’s younger brother by two years. I was awed. I had a younger brother by two years but he wasn’t like this. To me he seemed, along with Dad, to represent the qualities of all Wyomingans in general, that being a special breed, if nothing else, by association with this uncommon place.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Wyomingans. Aren’t they always tall? And limber? \u00a0<\/em>And aren’t they always rugged<\/em>\u00a0but gentile (until cornered)?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\"Dad-and-Mom-in-Window-115\"<\/a><\/h6>\n
<\/h6>\n
Dad and Mom,\u00a0before they had those identities, in Wyoming, still kids, years before they had any.<\/strong><\/h6>\n

Aren’t they always jovial? And able? And strong?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

And don’t they always have the weather and the elements etched in their faces?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Didn’t they all ride to school on a buckboard, if they had a school to go to, and if they didn’t, weren’t they smart enough figure out what they needed to know anyway?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Don’t they always have collections of found arrowheads and stories of rattlesnakes and shooting jackrabbits as big as small horses with a .22?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

And don’t they all have that far away Wyoming sage-scape in their eyes?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Don’t they all have 49 brothers and two sisters who are just as brave?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

And aren’t they all as hearty as their parents who raised them and were among the heartiest of souls who ever conducted a train across the reaches of the west or raised a family on nothing but grit and love and no choice but to do it?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

This was Wyoming. And this was Moore. Since that day when I looked up and shook the giant Sterling’s hand, whenever I’m asked to give the place of my birth I tell them sort of quiet-like, \u201cPennsylvania.\u201d But I hurry to add I just lived there ten days and that my parents were really from Wyoming!<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

With that I expect some respect.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

——-<\/p>\n

PS Incredibly I just came across a poem about Wyoming entitled Gertrude of Wyoming, a Pennsylvanian Tale<\/em><\/a>. Click it and see.<\/p>\n

PPS Also incredibly, I just came across the two following photos.<\/p>\n

\"Allison-on-Pony-1974\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Allison (3) and her dad (me), in California, 1974.<\/p>\n

\"Allion-Hat-and-Boots-1975\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Allison (4) in her dad’s gear, in Guatemala, 1975.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I was born the same year of this iconic plate. Just not in Wyoming. Still, whenever I smell the sent of sage or hear of Dad’s true roots, I feel I’m reminded of my deeper home. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[4],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9205"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=9205"}],"version-history":[{"count":44,"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9205\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10678,"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9205\/revisions\/10678"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=9205"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=9205"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.hyattmoore.com\/blank-slate\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=9205"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}