I was blessed to have Charlie Moir step in to my life at
various times over the last 50 years.
Our brief interactions impacted my life and helped me become the person
I am today.
I first met Coach Moir around 1970. I was just an eft (look it up) playing
basketball in the Catholic Saturday league.
I was the primary ball-handling guard on a team stacked with incredible
talent. My job was to bring the ball up
court and toss an entry pass to our 11 year-old 5’8” center, Herb Jones
(recently ran for state senate). Herb(ert)
was dominating in the 4’5” world of 10 year-olds. He went on to play football at Appalachian
State, but he easily could have gotten a basketball scholarship as well as he
grew to 6’7”/275.
Coach Moir came to one of our Saturday sessions for a
workshop before the league games started.
I remember him teaching me specific ball-handling drills. I loved the attention and have never
forgotten his generosity that day. I
learned that my “handle was too loose” or something to that effect. But he was encouraging.
I followed Coach Moir’s career carefully after that
day. I listened on the radio as his
Roanoke College team, featuring future Hokie coach Frankie Allen, won the DII
(College Division) championship over Akron in 1972.
Moir started his VT assignment in 1976, just as I was
beginning to follow Hokie basketball closely.
When I started college in 1978, I went to every home game…at least all
of the games that I could get tickets to.
You see, back then, student tickets were a hot commodity; one had to
camp out for admittance if it was a big Metro game. No doubt that “The Hurryin’
Hokies” were dynamic and incredibly fun to watch. As students,
we cheered for various point thresholds, each new one brought new, tasty
freebies at the McDonald’s. 100 points
meant a free cheeseburger, fries, and drink meal, and our team made that happen
often enough to realize that such a prize was attainable.
One night during the frigid freeze of winter 1980 (or ’79),
VT destroyed its opponent, and my buddies and I headed over to McDonald’s after
the game to receive our reward. After I
got there and waded into the long line,
I realized that I had lost my ticket stub. I was so very disappointed. No bonus meal for me-a tragic turn of the
screw. To my rescue came none other than
Charlie Moir. His wife and he had come
in to McDonald’s just ahead of us and
were standing in line just as I was discovering my loss. Immediately, he got my attention and handed
over his ticket telling me that he really didn’t need it. At the time and to this day, I was blown away
by his simple act of generosity. Back
then, I was thankful that I’d get my meal.
Now as an older adult, I understand how such generosity can positively
impact another soul.
My path would cross Charlie Moir’s path again almost 20 years
later. As it turned out, I ended up
teaching elementary school in Roanoke County and had both of his grandchildren in
my class over the next couple of years.
Charlie and his wife would come often to have lunch with the kids, and I
would sometimes intrude to reminisce with him.
Each time, he’d accommodate me, sharing his thoughts and memories.
Charlie Moir was a gentleman and a very generous soul. I’m
so very thankful that his life intersected mine at various times over the
years. My purpose for sharing these
recollections isn’t because I’m trying to toot my own horn; rather, it’s to provide
testament to the incredible power of true kindness and generosity, traits to
which I think we should all aspire.
