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Murl Freeman Moore, 56, of Enid, died Tuesday, May 16, 2006, at his home. He was born Sept. 10, 1949, to Joe Freeman and Winona Ann (Ward) Moore in Ada. He graduated from Enid High School. He served in the U.S. Marines in Vietnam.
He is survived by his father, Freeman Moore of Enid; his son, Luke Moore of Bristow, Okla.; brothers, Jerry Moore of Enid, Randy Moore of Austin, Texas, and Charlie Moore of Florence, Texas; one sister, Joanne Moore of Enid; and one grandchild.
He was preceded in death by his mother.
There will be no service. There will be a visitation from 1 p.m. Thursday, May 18, 2006, to 3 p.m. Friday. The family will receive friends from 1:30 to 3 p.m. Friday. Cremation will follow. Arrangements are by Ladusau-Evans Funeral Home.
The following was requested by Murl to be put in his obituary:
The day will come when my body will lie upon a white sheet neatly tucked under four corners of a mattress located in a hospital busily occupied with the living and the dying. At a certain moment, a doctor will determine that my brain has ceased to function and that for all intents and purposes, my life has stopped.
When that happens, do not attempt to instill artificial life into my body by the use of a mach-ine. And don’t call this my deathbed. Let it be the Bed of Life, and let my body be taken from it to help others lead fuller lives.
Give my sight to the man who has never seen a sunrise, a baby’s face or love in the eyes of a woman.
Give my heart to a person whose own heart has caused nothing but endless days of pain.
Give my blood to the teenager who was pulled from the wreckage of his car, so that he might live to see his grandchildren play.
Give my kidneys to the one who depends on a machine to exist from week to week.
Take my bones, every muscle, every fiber and nerve in my body, and find a way to make a crippled child walk.
Explore every corner of my brain.
Take my cells, if necessary, and let them grow so that some day a speechless boy will shout at the crack of a bat and a deaf girl will hear the sound of rain against her window.
Burn what is left of me, and scatter the ashes to the winds to help the flowers grow.
If you must bury something, let it be my faults, my weaknesses and all the prejudice against my fellow man.
Give my sins to the devil. Give my soul to God.
If by chance, you wish to remember me, do it with a kind deed or work to someone who needs it. If you do all I have asked, I will live forever.
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