Dennis R. Moore

On August 14, 2025, we said goodbye to a man whose presence filled every room he walked into not because he was loud, but because he carried with him a quiet strength, a quick wit, and a generous heart. Dennis Roger Moore, born August 3, 1946 in Lebanon, Pennsylvania, lived a life rooted in service, skill, and kindness. A lifelong PA resident, Dennis served in the U.S. Army during the Vietnam War, a chapter of his life that shaped his deep respect for his fellow veterans and his lifelong commitment to honoring them. After his military service, he built a career as a professional land surveyor, even working with FEMA to help communities recover after Hurricane Katrina. He had a steady hand, a sharp eye, and almost wizard-like math abilities, qualities that also made him a formidable competitive marksman. When Dennis wasn't working, you could find him behind a rifle on the range, dressed in full cowboy gear for a shooting match, or stepping back in time for a Revolutionary War reenactment. His hobbies weren't just pastimes, they were passions he poured himself into. But if you knew Dennis, you knew his greatest joy came from giving. He volunteered to play Santa Claus for children at local shelters, his warm laugh, white beard, and twinkling eyes making the role seem effortless. During the holidays, he baked cookies for veterans, not because he had to, but because he wanted them to feel remembered and appreciated. He was preceded in death by his first wife, Ruth, whose memory he cherished throughout his life. He is survived by his wife, Wanda; his sister Sylvia Meals and brother-in-law Jeff; sister-in-law, Rosalie Moore, his children Tony Moore and Tracy Marcinowski; his daughter-in-law Stacey and son-in-law Dan; his stepdaughter Kelly; and his stepson Mark. They, along with countless friends, fellow veterans, and community members, will carry forward the memory of his kindness, humor, and unwavering dedication. Dennis was the kind of person who showed up, who kept his word, and who found joy in the little things. He leaves behind a life well-lived and well-loved, and a reminder that giving of yourself is the greatest legacy you can leave.