Karen Moore

This remembrance, written by Karen Moore’s family, is reprinted from our 1971-1991 Panther Tales Dear BHS Class of 1971:

Karen was born in Munich, Germany on May 28, 1953, into an Air Force family. She entered public school in Dayton, Ohio where she wrote her first prize winning short story. In 1960, we sailed to Japan and lived in a village near Tokyo for three years. In 1963, she moved to Boulder, Colorado where she spent four happy years riding her horse, Shalome, writing short stories and falling in love with life.

In 1967, she moved with her family to Camp Springs, Maryland, where she learned the meaning of racism, when the Moores received threats upon moving into an all white neighborhood. It was in this setting that Karen began to develop as a Black poet.

Karen returned to Boulder in June 1970, graduating from Boulder High School in 1971. She was selected as a “superior young writer” and participated in the 38th Annual Writers’ Conference at the University Colorado, where she was awarded the Poetry Prize of the Conference. She had perfected her Spanish and planned a month’s vacation in Toluca, Mexico, before entering college in Boulder. Tragically, her companion, Dorothy Crow of Boulder, lost control of Karen’s car near Wagon Mound, New Mexico, on July 14, 1971 and Karen was killed. A beautiful, vibrant spirit has touched our lives and left a legacy of love and poetry. Pat, Curtis and Eric Moore

Some poetry by Karen . . .

I am myself
When you look at me,
You may see many images but, If you truly look inside,
You will see the truth.

I am a scared,
Over-trusting
Woman-child.
I am wise only because I have experienced What most people read about.

I glorify in the beauty of my blackness. I knew as sister
Ethiopian queens,
Cleopatra,

And Harriet Tubman.
Too long forgotten centuries of history Have made me what I am.

I am the velvet night,
The panther of the jungle,
The unfairness of justifiable murder;
The music of a thousand unfinished songs.

I am sleek and shining ebony
I am the pain of five hundred years I am Black
I am a Woman.

Tracy Rowland wrote this memorial to Karen Moore, reprinted from our 1991Panther Tales

I wish I could have accepted Karen’s death in the summer of 1971 but I had also just not accepted the death of another friend, Punny Cook, and as a 17 year old I was unable to even begin to understand why two of my good friends had to die. I guess I still don’t understand why such young people must die, so in my pondering, I dedicate this poem to Punny and Karen . . .

Remember me
Remember me
With smiles and laughter
That’s how
I’ll remember you
If you remember me
Only with tears
Don’t remember me
At all.
(written in 1970 during our “poetry days”)

Ilse Dunbar Wheeler writes:
I still think about Karen Moore, who left us so soon in the summer of ’71. What a light burnt out when she passed, what a voice.