Temporary job became a nearly six-decade career for Ramona Moore

  • Published
  • By Airman 1st Class Kyle Johnson
  • JBER Public Affairs
JOINT BASE ELMENDORF-RICHARDSON, Alaska --  The first Superbowl, a presidential assassination, the Vietnam conflict, an icy standoff with the Soviet Union, and a couple government shutdowns are just a few of the things Ramona Moore has seen in her career.

"The government furlough was rough," She recounted. "I think that's happened to me twice now."

She looked up from her mechanical pencil - eraser worn from fidgeting as much as use - as she mentioned the complete shutdown of a superpower's governing body with the kind of nonchalance only 57 years of employment could muster.

Moore, a budget analyst for the 673d Comptroller Squadron, is retiring Oct. 31 after 57 years of civilian service to Elmendorf Air Force Base, Fort Richardson and now JBER.

Moore's demeanor spoke of her experience. She has a soft, but clear voice with a quiet authority.

Moore grew up in Alaska, but her family is from the west.

Her family lost their Wyoming homestead in 1934, leaving them with no land, but plenty of motivation.

"So they moved to Hope," she said.

Hope, Alaska had only one school, with an equal number of rooms.

There was no local secondary school, so Moore took correspondence courses from the University of Nebraska and received her high school diploma.

Moore came to Anchorage independent and looking for work, 10 years before the first Superbowl, and snagged a temporary job as a supply clerk at Elmendorf Air Force Base.

Moore did not expect her temporary job to turn into a career spanning nearly six decades, but said she's glad it did.

To Moore, living as a career woman in 1957 wasn't a novelty; it was a necessity.

"I wasn't looking for a higher reason," Moore said. "I just needed to survive."

She smiled as she listed off her possessions at the time, and it didn't take long. "When I started, I had no car; I had a just a few clothes and I was paid $18 a month for rent."

"I got paid $160 a pay period," she said with a chuckle. "I didn't know what I was going to do with all that money. I bought a used Mercury to see my family in Hope."

"Nowadays, driving a car like that out to Hope, it'd be unthinkable," Moore said with a sharp shake of her head. "But back then, it wasn't that big of a deal."

After working as a GS-3 in supply for four years, Moore netted a promotion to GS-4 which put her in finance, where she would eventually retire ... just short of three careers later.

Moore explained for Soldiers to get paid back then, they needed to go to the finance building and go downstairs to "the cage" to receive their checks.

"Everything was paper and ink then," Moore said. They were buried in paper and surrounded by boxes.

She recalled computers that filled entire rooms and Soldiers who used them to run reports at night, leaving the printouts at finance.

"It seems unbelievable at times," Moore said ruefully as she reflected on how much has changed since she began.

"It doesn't feel like the same job," she said.

Technology isn't the only thing that changed around the constancy of Moore.

Her professional career would cover a timeline of global and national events that have been considered history for years.

"I was just sitting there, working, and the first sergeant popped his head in and said, 'The president's been shot.'

"I asked him, 'The president of what?' It had never occurred to me that the president would be shot," Moore said as she recalled the assassination of John F. Kennedy in 1963.

The next year, however, Moore would live through a truly earthshattering event that would strike closer to home.

When the Great Alaska Earthquake of 1964 struck, Moore was downtown picking up her sister from her job at Woolworth's.

The destruction in downtown was so rampant, Moore and her sister had to drive south to where the Sears mall now stands,  and over to Lake Otis Parkway to eventually get to her home on Debarr and Muldoon Road.

"It was very hard to get home," she said.

The earthquake may have destroyed most of downtown, but Soldiers still needed to get paid.

"There really wasn't much damage to our building. There were some of those long, hanging fluorescent lights that fell and shattered, causing some damage," she said as if still seeing the broken glass. "But we were back to work by the end of the next week."

Moore did not know if her family a little over an hour away in Hope was safe or not.

It would be a while before any mail could come. Until then, she only had the radio.

An aftershock hit the next Friday.

Moore said when the aftershock hit, she was in the same parking lot she still parks her vehicle in today for work.

"It was on a Friday. I was in the parking lot in my car wondering what had happened to my family in Hope," she said.

"It was like a slapstick movie. The doors burst open and people just came pouring out," Moore said.

"I really hate earthquakes. It scared me to death."

As devastating as the historic earthquake was, Moore does not list it as the most difficult obstacle she's faced in her career.

That particular challenge turned out to be the joint-basing  merge.

She explained each installation's finance office operated with completely different methods at the time of the merger.

"They talked about it for five or six years...I thought I'd be retired before they ever did joint basing," said the 57-year employee.

That was four years ago.

However, Moore was far from complaining. "I was just appreciative that I still had a job."

The extent of Moore's career and her relationships with her co-workers is testament to the effects of her positive attitude in the workplace.

"I am really sad to see her go," said Dawn Rominske, lead budget analyst with the 673d Comptroller Squadron. "She's like mom to us."

Rominske explained how Moore brings candy for everyone at the office and even knows their preference. "She knows I like Andes mints, and so goes out of her way to Target to get them for me," she said. "We try to bring her some, but she won't let us.

"She's a perfectionist. She sees things we never could and keeps us in line," Rominske said with a smile.

Moore's expectation of excellence isn't limited to those around her either; it's part of her motivation for retiring.

"I feel like I'm at an age where I need to retire before I can't perform my job as well as it should be performed," she said.

"I really hate to let go of that job, I can tell you," Moore said, tapping her pencil. "As you get older, what you want to do changes a lot."

"I'm happy for her because I know she's doing it to enjoy her family," Rominske said, eyes suddenly shining with tears. "It's really a sad thing; I have to stop before I start to cry."

Moore has one daughter, two granddaughters, and a great-granddaughter. One of her grand-daughters has married an Air Force member who, interestingly enough, came to JBER as his first duty station.

"The satisfaction of knowing I could take care of my family was the most rewarding part of it all," she said. "I wasn't married long enough to be taken care of."

Moore said she plans to spend as much time as she can with them before they PCS.

"I hate the thought of [leaving], but there's nothing I can do about it," she said. "I'm the kind of person that tries not to worry about things I can't do anything about."
Moore specifically requested there be no retirement party for her and she said she's been equally specifically informed that is simply not going to happen.
"I don't like farewell luncheons," she said softly. "If you think about everyone that's come and gone, it'd be horrendous."

For 57 years, Moore has been a rock in a world where the only constant is change.

Now, with tears and laughter, the change is coming her way.

"You're going along and everything's fine," she said. "Then all of a sudden, you're done."