Wedding Picture- group, May 20, 1925, Sarem, NC

Mr & Mrs. John Raynor Moore on their Wedding Day

          This is my working hypothesis - the way I see it as of this moment!! 

     John Raynor Moore and Gladiola Parker were married at her home in Sarem, Gates Co, NC on 20 May, 1925. A wedding supper and guests were awaiting them on their arrival at Maple Lawn, Raynor's ancestral home in Hertford Co. NC, given by his friends from Powellsville. The next morning, Johnnie, Raynor's mother, said to Ola, "Since Raynor is running the farm, I'm turning the house over to you." The household included his mother, invalid father, sister, brother, hired man and the hired girl.
     The house was located back in the woods, a mile from the mail-box. It was surrounded by many aged oaks and one maple for which it received its name. Water was drawn from the well located about 100 yards from the kitchen door. Oil lamps provided light in the evening. Cooking and heating was with wood. The wash was done in big tubs on the back porch with a scrubbing board and there was a big black pot to boil the white clothes in. The pot was used to make the soap for washing the clothes, and also for scalding the hogs, making the lard, and preparing the chitlings at hog-killing time.

  John Raynor Moore, son of Arthur Cotten Moore and his wife Johnnie Florentine Rayner, was born 29 March, 1892 at Maple Lawn, Hertford Co., NC. Little toe-haired Raynor was doted upon by both sets of grandparents, not to mention numerous aunts and uncles.

 
1901 Moore Brothers: Jim, Cotten, Raynor & Percy

       He dropped out of Mars Hill High School in the tenth grade (there were 11 grades then) as he thought Algebra and Latin silly and was misbehaving in class. "I need you here to help me farm if you cannot keep up your studies," his father told him. And so it was. He was somewhat jealous of his brother Jim who went on to graduate from Ahoskie High School and became a book-keeper. His father hearing of a corn club then (1909) being organized in Hertford County involved his son in it. Raynor won the award for the best record. 
       When the first World War broke out, Raynor and his brother Cotten were drafted and they both spent 18 months of the war on the front lines in France. My father was a runner, held the rank of Corporal, serving with the 5th Division, Tenth Regular Brigade under General Pershing. He received several commendations. One for coolness under fire ("We were walking across an open square when a sniper opened fire. I dropped to the ground face down and played dead. When night finally came I just got up and walked out.")
        Another for capturing about 10 prisoners single handed ("Those Germans had been watching us, waiting for someone to whom they could safely surrender. I generally took a walk into the country every evening. One day as I walked by a garden wall they just rose up with their hands in the air and I escorted them to the holding area. The war was over-we were all just waiting for the papers to be signed.")
       "Right at the very end we were assigned a new commanding officer right out of Officer Training School. He was anxious to fight a war when the war was all over-- he gave my buddy who had been through the whole war  with me a direct order to do something very foolish and my friend was killed doing as he was told. So I told that damn fool kid just what he was! getting a good man killed for--nothing."         Raynor finished his service as a private. He was always mad that all the celebrating of the Victory was over before he got home.
        He was a farmer and was perfectly happy thereafter being 'the big fish in his little pond."  He rode spirited horses and later drove sporty cars.  He had a fine tenor voice and sang often in local productions as a young man. He was a deacon of Bethlehem Baptist Church for over forty years.
       Daddy had his grandfather's idea of clothes and status. He had had a blue-serge suit tailor made for his wedding; he wore it for every important occasion in his life except once when his girth had grown even too much for Ola's magic with the needle. Never in his entire life did he own or wear trousers or overalls made of blue denim.
        His daily visits to Powellsville were a legend; some came just to catch his commentary on the news at the country store. When the younger men were organizing a Lions Club, his friends said they already had a club--"the Liars' Club" and Raynor Moore was its president as he was the greatest liar in Powellsville. I remember once he was busy grading tobacco and didn't go to town for three days, a delegation came out to see how bad off he was.
          In the summer of 1951, while Daddy was in the hospital with his first heart attack, we had the house wired and got electricity. In 1953 after Hazel left the place in shambles, Daddy decided that since he had to build the porch back anyway after one of the giant trees fell on it, he might as well put in the kitchen, utility, and bathrooms Ola had been wanting. Raynor continued to use the old toilet outside until it got really cold that winter--and then he refused to flush after every use as that was "a big waste of water." Ola sometimes wished he had kept on using his grandfather's outhouse. For his bath he continued to carry a bowl of warm water to his bed room and took a sponge bath. He was not going to be like his friend Walter Casper who got stuck in a bath tub and couldn't get out--and he died un-immersed except for the time in the creek when he joined the church.   The telephone was installed about 1958.
A third massive heart attack killed him early in the morning 21 January, 1969.    Dressed in his prized blue-serge suit he was buried in the family cemetery at the Jones' Hole on a cold rainy day attended by hundreds.