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ObituariesIn Remembrance: James G. Moore ’73 Died on June 2 2026 View full imageJames G. Moore passed away on June 2, 2026, at his home in Guilford, Connecticut, from complications of Parkinson’s disease. He was 74 and died surrounded by his wife, Jayne, and loved ones. Jim graduated from Yale in 1973 (BS in physics) and was a member of Branford College. He served for three decades as the chief scientist/technology officer for Presco Engineering in New Haven, Connecticut. During his tenure he provided key design insights for projects in medical ultrasound, optical character recognition, non-destructive testing of rocket engines, voice recognition, military power distribution, remote explosives detection, DNA sequencing, and mass spectrometry. In his free time, Jim was an avid scuba diver and visited reefs all over the world. He was also an excellent cook and loved making special dishes and homemade venison sausages for his family and friends. A private Celebration of Life will take place in August for his extended family and close friends. —Submitted by the family. |
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Jim Moore was my best friend. He was brilliant, kind and generous. He enhanced the lives of those who knew him and had the privilege of interacting with him.
A line from Algernon Charles Swinburne's poem, describes Jim, very well.
"He hath given himself and hath not sold
To God for heaven or man for gold"
When I think of Jim I see his smile. It reached from his chin through his whole face. I recall his love of hosting, his generosity and his smart inquisitive mind even if the explanation went over my head. He told me that at some child age he had made a flame thrower from a vacuum. He offered to show the boys but did not do so when I begged him not too. lol. Miss your light in the world.
I had the opportunity to know Jim, although it was only for a short time. Even in that short time, I was able to see the kindness, warmth, and genuine spirit that so many others have shared in these memories. Some people come into our lives for a brief time but leave an impression that lasts much longer. I’m grateful our paths crossed, and I’m truly sorry for the loss of such a remarkable man. May his family and loved ones find comfort in the beautiful legacy he leaves behind.
Following is the eulogy for Jim at the recent celebration. Love to Jayne.
Unique, Brilliant, Focused, Totally Honest
I’m Bruce Webber. I feel that I am speaking not only for myself, but also for my wife Jean, my son Aaron, and my daughter Emma. We all share a deep relationship with Jim, and we all loved him very much.
I want to honor my friend Jim today.
I doubt anything I can say about Jim will be a surprise to anyone here. Jim was brilliant, unique, caring, devoted, focused, and totally honest. There was not a Jim for one person or one situation, and another Jim for someone else or another situation. There was only one Jim.
I think he lacked either the ability or the interest to present himself as anything other than his true, honest self.
Jean and I have been close friends of Jayne and Jim for roughly 50 years. Our children, Aaron and Emma, have been close friends of Auntie Jayne and Uncle Jim since their births, 46 and 43 years ago. Although not formally family, in every significant way, Jayne and Jim were part of our family.
Talking to Jim was a unique experience. His interests were very focused, and his passion for his work would generally move the conversation in that direction. A number of my friends and relatives who had rarely met Jim but would have amazing conversations with him would always ask about him. His passion and sincerity made talking to him about his interests a great experience, even though in many, or perhaps most, cases they had essentially no idea what he was talking about.
I have so many memories of Jim.
When Aaron and Emma were young, Jim and Jayne would often be at our house after work. Aaron and Emma enjoyed that time with them immensely. They would also spend nights at Jayne and Jim’s house. Jayne would make them crazy, and Jim would have conversations with them, treating them the way he treated everyone—assuming they were as honest, trustworthy, and intelligent as he was.
When Jim was working at Presco and Jayne was no longer at Yale, he would often stop by after work for an afternoon of refreshments and conversation. There would be a knock on the door in the late afternoon, and I would know who it was.
Jim would come in, the three of us would sit down, have an adult beverage and some appetizers, and talk. After a while, maybe Jayne would call and ask if Jim was there. After an hour or two, when it was getting to be dinner time, we would ask Jim if he was staying for dinner.
Usually his response was, “No, Jayne is expecting me for dinner,” and he would wander off.
Jim was also incredibly smart in a very unique way. He would come up with ideas that I thought were complete bull, and I would challenge him. But with Jim, I could never quite dismiss them. More often than anyone else I’ve known, the ideas I was convinced were completely wrong would eventually turn out to be completely right.
For me, Jim was a special friend, and I know the feeling was mutual. I would describe our relationship as one of “true friends,” although we never actually defined it.
What is a true friend?
For Jim, it meant total trust and honesty on both sides. He would start a relationship with anyone assuming that they were like him. If he found reason to doubt that someone was open and honest, the relationship was doomed.
I always felt that if I needed something that was within Jim’s power to provide, I could simply ask him and he would deliver. Uniquely, he would not need or request any explanation for why I needed it. He wouldn't even be particularly curious. After all, for Jim, possessions, money, things were useful only as they allowed him to share his passions.
If you were a true friend, your expressed need was enough.
And he expected the same from me.
Like many of you, I feel that losing Jim is an irreplaceable loss.
I will miss having Jim in my life. I will miss his honesty, his friendship, his unexpected ideas, and the conversations that could go on for hours.
Most of all, I will miss knowing that Jim was there.