New Orleans-style parade to celebrate a life well-lived

By Chet Williamson

Long before leaving this earth, Ralph Moberly always said that when he died he would like a parade. Not just any funeral procession, of course — this is Ralph we're talking about — he was thinking something more along the lines of a New Orleans strut, complete with second-line revelers to celebrate his life in high style and full of gusto.

Ralph Moberly

Last Thursday, March 27, while visiting Philadelphia, Moberly died unexpectedly of a heart attack. He was 63. Word of his passing travelled quick and far. While still mourning their loss, those close enough to him to know his wishes immediately began making arrangements for the parade in Mobley's honor.

It happens Saturday, April 5, following a memorial service at 11 a.m. at the First Unitarian Church, 90 Main St. The procession will march down Main Street toward Lincoln Square, across Highland to Institute, over to Grove Street and eventually to Ralph's Chadwick Square Diner. There, the celebration will fittingly continue throughout the day and into the night with a variety of bands playing in the legendary nightclub that Moberly first opened in 1979.

"He left a will with John Murphy [a local lawyer and friend]," says Dave Gabriella, who, in addition to working at Ralph's for 10 years, considers the man to be his best friend. "It said he wanted a parade with little people, clowns, bicycles and motorcycles. He wanted horses. We have a horse and carriage."

Ralph Moberly: in front of The Chadwick Square Diner in 1979

Moberly was born in Worcester, the son of Ernest and Lilly (Dutton) Moberly. He has two brothers, Kenneth and Verne. He and his former wife Carolyn have two sons, Brigham and Miles. He was a graduate of Clark University and received a degree in social work from Simmons College. He had been recently living in South Londonderry, Vt. He also leaves his partner, Lisa Piehler.

To say that Ralph was a character is like saying his club was just a nightspot. He was truly a larger-than-life individual, who described his success as a series of happy accidents. When asked to explain the club, he jokingly said, "It's the apex of mediocrity."

Eccentricity often comes to mind when people talk about both the man and his former club. Moberly is remembered for driving around town in that yellow truck adorned with cartoon characters. He was a guy who liked to dress in Hawaiian shirts and cowboy hats.

"He used to dress really funky and different," recalls Roy Moy, the co-owner of Shaky Jake's, a former Highland Street vintage clothing store. "I remember selling him a pair of ostrich cowboy boots. He liked bowling shirts. He eventually had logos of the diner. He would put them on shirts and jackets and give them away."

Ralph Moberly in front of the counter at The Chadwick Square Diner in 1980.

Moberly once admitted to writer Susanne Schantz that the club was the embodiment of his own peculiar personality. In describing Ralph's in 1992, she wrote, "Every inch of wall space is jam-packed with a patently eclectic mix of old signs, stuffed animal heads, neon art and random antiques, all arranged so carelessly, yet so perfectly."

Testimonials recalling Moberly's memory always begin with his generosity. "He was always giving things to people," says Vincent Hemmeter, who purchased Ralph's from Moberly in 2002.

"I saw him take the coat he was wearing and give it to somebody. I can't even remember how many times I saw him do that."

Hemmeter met Ralph when he first started working at the club in 1986. "He was a real trusting guy who just expected people to do the right thing. He really liked creative people. He gave a lot of people an outlet for their creativity."

Of the many was Bob Peters, who worked at Ralph's both as a guitarist with The Blue Moon Band and The Creatures of Habit, and later as a soundman.

"I can remember the first time we played," Peters says. "We didn't make an agreement. Afterward he said, ‘Well, how much do you want?' We said, ‘We don't know, how about a couple hundred bucks?' He gave us like $600. That was unheard of. He always took care of us."

Friends also say Moberly may have had a reputation as an eccentric character, but they just as often note his intelligence. "You were immediately taken by his incredibly quick dry wit," says Robert "Buzzy" Tubert. "He had a comeback for everything. I thought he was an absolute genius."

in 1984

Tubert, who worked the door at Ralph's for more than a decade, adds, "He had an unprecedented run. When you consider all of the clubs in the city before, during and after his ownership of Ralph's — how many clubs closed? It was packed all the time."

Peters also talks about Moberly's business sense.

"He had the customer concept down. He was there to show everybody a good time," Peters says. "I recommended a thousand bands and he brought everybody in."

Lennie "L.B. / Mayor of Wormtown," Saarinen started hanging around Ralph's in 1980.

"He was always there," he says of Moberly. "It was always like a party with him as the ringmaster. Back when the whole Wormtown scene started and no other clubs would book alternative acts, he booked them left and right."

Although Moberly died of a heart attack, friends recall him remaining active to the end.

"I don't know if people know this, but he was a great skier," says Ric Porter, former guitarist for The Preston-Porter Band. "He never fought the mountain. He just let the mountain ski him. I never met anybody who pointed the skis down like that guy."

Personality wise, Porter says, "He had a funny demeanor and people would think a lot of things about him, but he knew what day it was."

Moberly's obituary states that, in addition to friends and family, he "leaves behind countless others who consider him an unforgettable treasure in their own lives."

Tubert echoes that sentiment by saying, "I met Ralphie in 1980. I was never the same human being again after seeing the club or after meeting the man. I'm devastated."

Porter says, "When you go to Ralph's after the service on Saturday, I think that you will see more diverse people — from straight to abstract — in one place than you will ever see. We lost one in a million."

As they say in New Orleans, see you in the "second-line" of the parade. o

in 2003