June 18, 2025

UPDATE below 

When I started covering the Chadds Ford area in the autumn of 2001, I had no intention of getting out into the community to make friends. No, not my style. I had the fanciful notion of being the stereotypical curmudgeon who ticked off politicians. And to a point at least, I succeeded, thank you very much.

But I did make some friends nonetheless, some very good ones, people I wound up respecting. Some have passed beyond the rim of known space, people such as Ed Wandersee, Fred Reiter, Jim Murray, and Keith Klaver. Others are still with us, and they know who they are. But one friend in particular will always stand out in my memory, and we just lost her. I’m speaking of Barbara Moore, the long-time director of the Chadds Ford Gallery.

Barbara was the first person to befriend me when I started the newspaper phase of my life. She was also one of the three people I was told I should introduce myself to because she, and the other two, knew the people I should contact about the background of Chadds Ford and its people.

Our first meeting wasn’t that special, at least not outwardly, but there was something special about her. It might have been the second or third time I was in the gallery when we had a chance to talk and I told her that it was difficult for me at times because I was meeting people I liked (some, anyway), but I also wanted to maintain journalistic objectivity, so I thought it best to keep people at arm’s length. It was frustrating.

Barbara looked at me from behind her desk and simply asked, “Why can’t you and I be friends?”

I melted.

So, Barbara Moore and I became friends. I was Mr. Rich to her, and she was Ms. B to me.

It reached a point where if I didn’t stop in to visit her once a week, the next time I’d walk into the gallery she would give me an incredibly bad time, and I loved every second of it.

You could see the humor in her eyes. Indeed, she had what Gordon Lightfoot referred to as “laughing eyes.” And she had the warm, genuine smiling face to go along with those eyes.

I once told her she’d make a great madam. She laughed. Professionally, Barbara used the full moniker, Barbara Noble-Moore, and I would often refer to her as the noblest Moore of all.

As some know, Barbara and the late artist Paul Scarborough were a couple, together for more than 30 years. And in a strange way, that put me in unique company.

I was visiting Barbara at the gallery one day when the UPS driver came in to drop off a package. Barbara must have mentioned Paul to him at one point — probably several times — and the driver nodded in my direction and gestured in a way that said he wanted to know if I was Paul.

Barbara got that twinkle in her eye, pointed to me, and said, “No, he’s number two.”

Now, being referred to as a “number two” by anyone else could have led to fisticuffs, but she meant that I was way up in her opinion, just a little lower than Paul. I definitely felt in good company. Of course, I always felt that way when I was chatting with Barbara.

But now my friend Barbara is gone. Inoperable brain cancer. I know that in her way of thinking, she and Paul are together again, someplace where the fishing is good, and the scenery demands to be painted.

Barbara Moore had many friends, in and out of the art world, and she deserved every single one of them. I’m glad she included me in that group.

UPDATE:

There will be a funeral service for Barbara at the Gebhart Funeral Home, 3401 Philadelphia Pike, Claymont, DE 19703, on Wednesday, June 25, with family visitation from 5-7 p.m.

In lieu of flowers, contributions in Barbara’s memory may be made to Brandywine Battlefield Park, 1491 Baltimore Pike, Chadds Ford, PA 19317, or to Chris Sanderson’s Museum, 1755 Creek Road, Chadds Ford, PA 19317.