Tell me Moore: Tales from colleagues and admirers

We asked ex-colleagues, competitors and others for tales about KMBC’s Larry Moore.

Phil Witt, Fox 4 anchor: Larry set the standard for community involvement by TV news people in Kansas City. And he still does. His contributions of time and talent to countless charity and civic organizations is legendary. He set the bar very high for the rest of us.

When I was promoted to 6 and 10 p.m. news anchor here in the early ’80s, my general manager told me if I wanted to be a success I should follow the model of Larry Moore and not just report news but also really get involved in community service. That was during Larry’s time away from Kansas City, when he was working in San Francisco and then Chicago, and I was glad I didn’t have to compete with him directly on either news or community involvement. Then, just a few months later, he returned to Kansas City and I suspected I’d be following his lead forever. And I have — happily.

Over the years, Larry and I have ended up together helping at a lot of events. and collaborating on projects for the American Cancer Society and other cancer organizations. We made numerous joint appearances at Cancer Survivors Day rallies that Richard and Annette Bloch put on. Usually I’d speak first and welcome everyone and the audience would be very polite and attentive. And there would be some other speakers and entertainment, and then Larry would almost always wrap up the program.

That’s when the audience sat enthralled, hanging on every word. And I’d marvel at how connected Larry seemed to be to each and every person there. His personal and heartfelt message moved everyone. And it would happen like that year after year.

Angie Borgedalen, former editor of the Liberty Tribune: I was taking some journalism classes at Maple Woods Community College in the early 1970s, and Larry Moore was one of the instructors. Maple Woods had professionals teach some classes.

He would sweep into the classroom and regale us with stories about what was going around town. He was very handsome, very tall and had a full head of dark hair. I remember for some reason him wearing a velvet or cut corduroy burgundy sports jacket the first time I saw him.

The girls were always gaga over him. They would just openly stare at him with their elbows on their desks and their hands under their chins. He just kinda took it in stride, like, “Oh, this happens to me all the time.”

I acted like he was just any other teacher and I wasn’t impressed. And I was older, around 30, 31, married with two children. He and I were about the same age.

He was very popular and a big celebrity in the Kansas City area. And Channel 9 was a big deal. I think everybody watched it. The other stations really struggled to keep up.

Cheryll Jones, part of KMBC’s “First Team” in the late ’70s: We had lots of long hours, tough stories and times, and fun stories and times … with Larry, Don Fortune on sports and me on weather. We spent almost as much time out and about in the community, meeting people and signing autographs at various events, as in the newsroom. We were three polar opposites but had a chemistry that just “clicked” with Larry setting the pace. Our 10 p.m. news became the highest-rated late-evening newscast of any ABC affiliate in the country.

Live television sometimes takes unexpected turns, especially when there is as much unscripted and spontaneous interaction on air among the anchors as Larry, Don and I always had. None of us ever knew what the other was going to say next, and that certainly kept us all on our toes. But sometimes things can come across quite differently from what you intend, even if you catch it as a “near-miss” — and it can bring the house down.

On one 10 p.m. newscast, Larry was introducing me for my weather report and commented that he was so glad the rain had finally stopped, the sun had come out and he was finally able to get outside and work in his yard and garden. He said he had been very busy all morning just mowing the grass and hoeing in the garden.

Then he asked me, “Do you ever do any of that stuff?”

To which I said, “No, not really. Can’t say that I do much of that — I’m just not a mower or a hoe …”

I quickly caught what almost rolled off my tongue, paused and said, “Well, I just don’t hoe that many gardens.”

Needless to say, it was a tough weather report to keep a straight face through with Larry and Don and crew laughing unmercifully off camera, but I somehow managed to make it through the forecast. We were all quite relieved to go to a commercial break to finally regroup.

I even still have a prized treasure from Larry, my own personally autographed copy of his gardening book, “The 20 by 30 Backyard Garden Guide.”

At that time, as the first woman in a prime anchor spot on the evening news in Kansas City, naturally I was in the crossfire for “taking a man’s job” and was told there might even be pickets against me, especially as the much-loved Fred Broski’s replacement. It was truly a hot seat, a sink-or-swim situation with so many rumors flying about me the story eventually made The Kansas City Star, with the headline reading “Cheryl Jones Needs Accu-Rumor Service.”

There were lots of wonderful fans, but not all the rumors were kind ones, including reports that I had a glass eye, a wooden leg, two husbands, had left my kids for television (I had no children), on and on. But Larry always helped me keep it all in perspective. He really earned so much respect from me by coming to my defense, which he didn’t have to do, when some vicious pot shots were taken at me.

I remember Larry so very fondly — one of the nicest anchors I have ever worked with. He paid me the highest compliment once in The Star, saying: “Cheryl Jones is the most popular woman to ever work in Kansas City television.” That was really a most powerful statement coming from such a prestigious broadcast news icon like Larry. That’s the kind of person he is and I was honored to work with Larry and have him as a friend.

Kelly Urich, morning show host, 99.7 The Point: I only met Larry once, which is hard to believe. I was having dinner with (Channel 9 chief meteorologist) Bryan Busby and we dropped by KMBC to give Larry an award. He won the “Kansas City’s Best TV News Anchor” contest I did on social media — by a landslide.

We had a delightful chat, and I remember walking out of Channel 9 thinking he is the same Larry Moore in person as he is on TV. I didn’t think that was possible, because he always seems so … jovial when the camera is on. Bryan reassured me, “The Larry you see is the Larry you get.”

Something a lot of people overlook is his ability to read an entire newscast without any mistakes. There aren’t many TV personalities left who can do that. When I think of flawless newscasters, I think of Peter Jennings and Larry Moore.

Brian Bracco, former KMBC news director, now vice president and general manager at KSHB, Channel 41: When the newsroom would get quiet and I felt like we needed a little jolt, I’d go over to talk to Larry and tell him a joke. His laugh resonates to probably the second and third floor. Everybody could hear it and they would pop up their heads from their desks to see what was going on. His laugh is as much a signature as him sitting in the anchor chair.

Another memory is when he was going through his chemo and radiation (for lymphoma, in the early 1990s). He would still come into work even though we told him not to. He wanted to. It gave him a purpose. He was wearing a wig. It was tough. And he would come in and it was very much of an effort. But he was going to show up, suit up and go on the air no matter how bad he felt.

I think that was an inspiration to the staff. They figured, you know what, here’s this guy going through cancer treatment and still showing up for work. If he can do that, I can work through a cold or something.

The funny part about it was, his wife, Ruth, would call me and say, “Larry’s coming in, but he’s had a really bad day. You gotta send him home after the 6 o’clock newscast.” I’d pull him aside and convince him, most times, to go home. Sometimes he would be stubborn. And sometimes his wife would have to come down and pick him up because he was too tired. He fought through some tough times.

Myra Stewart, vice president, Dream Factory: Larry’s heart has always been with the children of the Dream Factory (which fulfills dreams of seriously ill children). He always goes out of his way to make the child feel special. Larry and his wife, Ruth, have been instrumental in getting the Dream Factory to where it is today. We had lunch with Larry (the other day), and he is still committed to the Dream Factory and will keep involved for many years to come. We love him.

Dan Liston, longtime Dream Factory volunteer and past president: We’ve accused Larry of being cloned. He’s at so many things for us, and every time you look on TV he’s doing something for someone else. Kids he filmed dreams of 15 years ago still come up to him. He gets caught up with them, where they’re going to school, that kind of thing.

I remember being at Jack Stack on Metcalf with a couple of people from our national headquarters and Larry. The waitress comes over and says, “By the way, I don’t know if you remember me, but you did a dream for me when I was 7 years old.” The national people thought it was a setup, but that kind of thing happened all the time.

At the Benjamin Ranch they always had a rodeo, and one of the nights was Dream Factory Night. Larry being the horse guy, he and Ruth would show up on their horses and ride in. We’d put put all the kids in a wagon and go around the ring, and they would introduce the kids and wave and Larry’d do a quick talk. We did that for years.

Cynthia Smith, former Channel 4 anchor, now an associate consultant with Hartsook Companies: Because Larry and I worked the same schedule, we never ran into each other, so I really didn’t get to know him until years after I left Channel 4 to raise my son. It was in my nonprofit work that I realized what a genuine, down-to-earth and generous man he was. We both loved horses and were passionate about the welfare of children.

I learned after being named the president and CEO of Sunflower House (a children’s advocacy organization) that Larry had emceed their annual Valentine Gala for 25 years. It was great to share the stage with him, and I surprised him by showing the audience a picture of us on the cover of the Kansas City Star Magazine from back in the ’80s. It got quite a reaction to see us both 25 years earlier and at least 25 pounds lighter.

Getting to know Larry as a person instead of a competitor was great. I don’t think I ever saw him without a smile on his face. Just like Dan Henry and Walt Bodine, Larry is a broadcasting legend people will remember for years to come.

Roy Inman, freelance photographer: He and I were at Mizzou journalism school at the same time. There was a favorite pub/grill right across the street where lots of the J-students had lunch, and Larry was one of the regulars. They had great burgers.

The J-school had its own TV channel, and Larry was one of the newscasters. It was during the ’Nam era, student riots, all that stuff.

This particular night he was reporting some gosh-awful happening, but you could tell he was just barely able to suppress a smile. Next day I asked him what gave, talking about such a horrendous event and darn near grinning.

He laughed and said: “It was those freshman interns. While I am live they sometimes crawl under the desk, pull up my pant leg and pull the hair on my legs.”

It has been nearly 50 years, but I still remember him telling that story to a table full of journalism “scholars.”

Elizabeth Alex, former Channel 41 anchor, now with Christian Foundation for Children and Aging: Larry was on the air when I was in eighth grade at Hillcrest Junior High in Overland Park. I wanted to interview him for a paper about careers and was crushed when it didn’t work out.

Later, when I held news anchor jobs in other markets, I would watch Larry when I came home to visit my parents on holidays. I was touched by the courageous and public way he fought his diagnosis of cancer.

I finally came home to Kansas City as a colleague in the market at KSHB and got to know Larry when we both served on the Kansas City Press Club board. I remember thinking that his booming laughter was even more vibrant in person than it was all those years I watched him on TV.

What will always stick with me about Larry, though, is the heartfelt note he sent me when my husband, Brian, died. He clearly understood the gift of life after cancer that Brian did not receive. That simple gesture Larry made during a terrible time is something I will never forget.

Jason Rhodes, public information officer, Overland Park Fire Department: In January 1993 I was working as a videographer for KMBC and was assigned, with Larry, to cover the inauguration of Bill Clinton. While in D.C. we worked out of the Hearst bureau.

Our first night in town, we shot an inauguration preview story that was to run on KMBC’s 5 p.m. newscast. We edited our story at the bureau and sent it by satellite back to Kansas City. In typical deadline fashion, we finished feeding the story at about 4 p.m. Central time. We then needed to traverse the two miles to the Capitol for our 5 p.m. live shot.

When we exited the bureau, with our video camera, lights and tripod in hand, we quickly realized our miscalculation. While finding a cab would be easy, finding a cab that was not stuck in gridlock was another matter. D.C.’s normal rush hour had been compounded by an influx of inauguration visitors, creating a virtual parking lot on the streets of the city. It was obvious to us that our only option was to walk the two miles, carrying our 65 pounds of gear.

Larry Moore is a big man. He stands well over 6 feet tall. In his trench coat, scarf and hat, Larry said, “Give me your tripod and let’s go.” With 50 minutes until our live report, we began a brisk walk in the freezing January air. Every few blocks, we would need to take a quick rest. You see, Larry was still undergoing treatment for cancer and was quite tired. He had lost his hair and a considerable amount of weight. Despite his fatigue, he insisted on carrying my 25-pound tripod. Several times I asked Larry to hand it back and he refused, saying, “Just keep moving.”

We were about a quarter-mile from the Capitol when we finally broke out of the gridlock and hailed a cab for the last leg of our trek. We made it there with moments to spare. Our live shot went off without a hitch.

For me, a young, inexperienced journalist, seeing Larry battle through his personal pain without complaint made an impression.

Bev Chapman, former KMBC reporter, now making freelance videos: When I first started working for 9 in the ’80s, Larry was always spending his weekends doing personal appearances. As often as he could, he’d take one or more of his children with him. Occasionally he’d stop by the station to record something he’d forgotten or pick up a phone number, and he almost always had a baby with him.

I can remember sitting at a desk with one of the kids propped up in one of those plastic baby trays in front of me. One hand would be rocking the baby. My ear to the phone, the other hand would be taking notes as I made beat checks — robberies, fires, stabbings. I remember telling a co-worker that I hoped the kids didn’t think this was some kind of story I was telling them, or they’d grow up really warped.

And, of course, Larry is a swell guy. Shortly after I was hired to anchor weekends, his weeknight co-anchor took an extended leave. I filled in for her for some time, and Larry was very supportive. I had watched Larry on TV when I was in high school in Independence. It was really strange to be doing a newscast with him.

Greg Moore, No. 4 of Larry and Ruth Moore’s five children: My dad has been interwoven into the fabric of this city thanks to the countless viewers who invited him into their homes every day. He has always been grateful to the viewers and the city, so a dinner at Italian Gardens interrupted for an autograph request or a photo op during a Royals game have never been bothersome to me because my dad has never seen it that way. Plus, the occasions have made me a better photographer.

Every vehicle the family has had has been equipped with Sharpies and stacks of KMBC-9 magnets. Once I was late to my baseball game because a quick lunch turned into an unexpected autograph session. But the smiles those people had when they received their signed magnets from my dad have always been more memorable than anything I did on the baseball field.

Years ago, my family and I were returning from a trip. When we were exiting the gate at KCI there were a number of people taking pictures and clutching items to be autographed. As we made our way through the crowd I asked one of the bystanders who the famous person was. “Larry Moore,” I was told. Or, as I knew him, Dad.

This story was originally published November 25, 2013 at 11:25 AM with the headline "Tell me Moore: Tales from colleagues and admirers."