May 28, 1935 - December 12, 2022
Mary Grace Moore (Grace) was born May 28, 1935, in Fortuna, CA to Alsha Arminda (Rouse) and Antone Joseph Rust. She passed away on December 12, 2022, in Liberty Lake, WA at the age of 87. She married the love of her life, Thurman Dawson Moore on May 15, 1965. She is home with Thurman, who we believe came down while she was struggling and said, “Grace you have done enough, it’s time to come home.” She is survived by her two daughters, Debra Moore and Lorna Jean Willard; her son-in-law, Douglas Willard; her granddaughter, Jessica Grace Lockhart; her grandson, Daniel Douglas Willard; and her great-grandchildren, Eugene Dawson Lockhart and Corinne Grace Lockhart. Grace lived in California for many years where her two daughters were born. She was brave and feisty, and left her first marriage during a time when women– especially Catholic women— did not do that. As a single mom, she lived with her mother Alsha, working as a secretary until she met Thurman. On their first date Thurman had so much fun Grace thought he must surely be drunk, even though he did not drink. Thurman fell in love with Grace and her two daughters, Deb and Lori. They settled in Sebastopol. When they weren’t working, they were camping on the California coast, vacationing in the northwest wilderness, water skiing, fishing, boating, riding horses, and hiking. This love of the outdoors led them to build a home at the foot of the Mission Mountains in Montana. They worked side by side building their small business before retiring – first to an alpine cabin near Flathead Lake, then to Coeur d’Alene, Idaho to be near their grandkids. Though quiet and somewhat shy, Grace was a deceptively strong woman who learned to ride motorcycles and snowmobiles to keep up with her husband’s taste for the outdoors. She taught us so many things including manners, humility, kindness, and her grandson how to drive. She is beloved—a wonderful wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and friend— as well as a bit of a rebel. She loved nature, camping, square dancing, playing boogie-woogie on the piano, singing 50’s love songs, her church, and laughing during family game nights. Though she admittedly ‘hated’ to cook, she cooked for us. About three years into their marriage, Thurman famously told her, “Hon, I am sure glad you finally learned how to cook a roast!” She made the best banana crème pie, tamale pie casserole, tuna goulash, and chili with ham hocks. There was nothing better than sitting down to her fresh caught trout, breaded and fried over a Coleman stove during our family camping trips. Mom was the anchor behind the scenes. She didn’t ask for much and put everyone else before herself. She was the warmth for us to come home to, our family’s grace (as she was aptly named), the one who listened, and an equal partner with Thurman. Her passing leaves an aching hole in our hearts. We will shed tears because she is gone and we will smile because she lived. She is loved and will be deeply missed. In lieu of traditional memorial services, we are planning a trip to Montana in July where she will be interred with her husband, Thurman, and their dog, Brandy. We plan to celebrate her life by spending time together at Glacier National Park and Priest Lake where many family camping adventures took place. We plan to visit the ice cream parlor where we had ice cream cones and root beer floats. We take solace knowing that she will be there with Thurman and their dogs— fishing, square dancing, and laughing with that twinkle in her eye that was uniquely hers. -