Carolyn Moye Zeigler

Carolyn Elizabeth Moye Zeigler, 93, widow of Robert Stanely “Tanny” Zeigler, peacefully transitioned into her eternity Sunday, June 7, 2026 at Washington County Extended Care Facility in Sandersville.

Carolyn was born July 27, 1932, in the home of her great grandfather, Henry Jordan Hodges, on Oconee River Road in Washington County. She was the only child of the late Myrtle Sumner Moye of Bethany Church Community of the Washington-Johnson County area, and the late Clifford Alvin Moye of Johnson County. She was the granddaughter of the late Robert H. Sumner and the late Effie Bell Smith Sumner of Johnson County, and of the late Clara Hodges Moye Briscoe of Washinton County and the late Charley Augustus Moye of Johnson County. She is survived by nieces, nephews and cousins.

Carolyn was a 1949 graduate of Washington County High School after which she attended Georgia Teachers College, now Georgia Southern, from the fall of 1949 – August 1952, graduating with her Bachelor’s degree. She then immediately started her teaching career at Wrens High School, retiring after 40 years in 1992. She then decided to keep teaching part-time until 1998.

Carolyn was a dedicated member of Ways Baptist Church and the John Franklin Wren DAR.

To celebrate her life, a visitation will be held from 10:00 – 11:30 AM Friday morning, June 12, 2026, at the church she love—Ways Baptist Church. The funeral service will follow at 11:30AM with the Reverend Wayne Turpin officiating, after which interment will be in the Ways Baptist Church Cemetery.

Serving as pallbearers include Parish Howard, Charles Milburn, Everette Williford, Steve Anderson, Anderson Jones, Burney Thompson, Miller Weeks, Jimmy Fleming, Michael Adams, and Johnny Rabun. Honorary pallbearers will be members of the John Franklin Wren DAR as well as Vince McNair, Matt Story, Robert Chalker, Wendel Chalker, Clinton Turpin, Larry Boulineau, Tony Schneider, Michael Jones and Rodney Inglett.

In lieu of flowers, Carolyn’s wish is to have memorial contributions made to Ways Baptist Church, c/o Anita McNair, PO Box 374, Wrens, GA 30833.

A HISTORY FOR FORMER STUDENTS (As written by Carolyn Zeigler – June, 2019)

While she was still a toddler, Carolyn’s family moved to Wrightsville where her dad spent years as a walking mail carrier for the U.S. Postal Service and her mother’s youngest brother became an older family member. Carolyn spent her young years trailing her dad around his route and being a mascot for her uncle’s many athletic endeavors. Mr. Moye supplemented his income by running a restaurant. The delivery boys rode Carolyn in their bicycle baskets and read to her a comic series called “Doodle Bug”. Somehow the title became Carolyn’s nickname in Johnson County even into the 80’s. Her favorite place was Oconee where her Curry relatives allowed her to eat all the ice cream she wanted and her grandmother Clara helped her to make mud pies from the Washington County clay.

In the summer of ’45, Carolyn began jerking sodas at the Methodist (Brinson’s) Drug Store on Thursday afternoons and all day on Saturdays. Listening to adults talk and to football games on the radio expanded her world views—and she got paid for it! Fifty cents on Thursday and a dollar on Saturday was BIG money in the 40’s.

She tithed her money twice because Mrs. Moye said she was one-half Methodist and one-half Baptist. The rest Mr. Moye called Carolyn’s spending money. With it, she ordered her Sunday dresses from ads in Seventeen and shoes for her narrow foot from Joseph & Neal’s.

That same summer, Carolyn’s mother spent some time with her parents near Hart’s Ford. One morning, Mr. Moye asked Carolyn what she was going to do while he was on the route. She responded, “If you’ll thread the sewing machine, I’ll make myself a dress.” By five o’clock she had a dress from bleached feed sacks with puffed sleeves, a square neckline, a sash and tulips cut from scraps sewed around the bottom. Her dad was so proud of her product that he took her to Harrison’s where he bought enough fabric and rick-rack for two dresses for his two best girls. On Sunday night, Mrs. Moye sat near the back pew of the church. From then on Carolyn bonded with the sewing machine and always made her own clothing.

While Carolyn was still in grade school, here dad took 30 Rhode Island reds from his flock for Carolyn to tend, raise and make a profit for her college. Tending the chickens continued through high school and through this responsibility she learned to keep records and make deposits in the Bank of Wrightsville where a Mr. Joe Fulghum took a special interest in her. A Baptist minister from Tennille gave Carlyn a rusty brown cocker spaniel; she named the puppy “Sergeant”. Sarge delivered puppies and tending to them provided Mr. Joe an opportunity to expose Carolyn to passbooks and savings.

Children who are truly blessed have an adult who is both their mentor and friend. Carolyn had several but her favorite was Miss Pinky Daley, her piano teacher. Miss Pinky’s husband had died in a railroad accident, leaving her with two children. Because of the accident, Miss Pinky and her children could ride the rails free. Every summer, Miss Pinky went to New York City where she polished her piano skills at the Julliard School of Music. She always invited one of her piano students to be a companion for her daughter, June. After she played the last chords for this Sunday service, she motioned toward Mr. Moye in the choir to come to the piano.

Miss Pinky’s idea for the summer of 1945 was for Carolyn to be the free to travel with June. Many discussions at the Moye dinner table followed. Miss Pinky said $125.00 would cover lodging, train fare and food; but for Carolyn’s 13th birthday to be celebrated in New York would just be wonderful. Mr. Moye paid the expected amount and Mrs. Moye’s egg money paid the extra.

Weeks later, Miss Pinky, June and Carolyn left Wrightsville, with a short visit with Mrs. Nannie Stone in Wrens, for Harlem where a Mrs. Hatcher—Miss Pinky’s sister—drove them to the Augusta terminal. Carolyn had never seen a train except the W&T, but here she was boarding one that would take the group to Charlotte and on to New York City. The train had a dining car, cubby holes for sleeping, and an area where guests played cards. Hours later, Carolyn was awakened by the aroma of bacon and eggs, but these eggs were prepared as an omelet—all fluffy and tasteless and without grits.

Early morning at Union Station had more people buzzing around than Carolyn had ever seen. Miss Pinky directed the girls to a bench while she got bundles of free tickets to radio shows and off-Broadway plays. They lunched at the automat. Miss Pinky waved for a Yellow Cab and they slid around curves to the hotel where she had made reservations.

June and Carolyn spent their days using the tickets Miss Pinky had secured. Everything was rosy until they had to meet Miss Pinky at an amphitheater at dusk to hear Helen Tramwell sing. They were to take the subway, which they did, but when they arrived, they were a block off their intended destination. June assured Carolyn they should go to the next street, cross it and hurry, hurry! “Hurry” really meant run and run and run… Finally, Carolyn could see the red hair of a lady in the distance who turned out to be Miss Pinky. The audience applauded often and loudly but Carolyn never forgot the fear of being lost in this BIG city. They continued visiting museums and attending musicals until the 27th, the day of her 13th birthday. Miss Pinky had made dinner reservations at the Waldorf-Astoria where Guy Lombardo and his orchestra were playing. Life was wonderful; she felt she must have become some kind of Cinderella but there was high school graduation to capture her attention.

Mrs. Moye wanted Carolyn to further her education at Georgia Teachers College so that she could expand her circle of friends beyond cousins who were planning to be at GSCW. Mrs. Moye’s idea worked. Even in 2010, her closest friends were the same as those she had met at Teachers College in the 50’s.

Carolyn began teaching in Wrens in 1952. No one could understand why she wanted to teach there so much. To her it was a dream come true, another chapter that Miss Pinky opened when she made that “visit” stop in Wrens from Wrightsville to Harlem to New York City so many years ago.

One afternoon in the spring of 1953 during a red and white football scrimmage, a visitor dressed in a white T-shirt, khakis and brogans walked toward the bleachers. There was no monitoring the students as this fellow approached. Carolyn Davis, an eleventh grader, said that this guy was just home from Korea where he had lost some of his teeth in the conflict. Full of brass, Miss Carolyn Moye asked the student to tell him that she, Carolyn Moye, planned to marry him one day. Time moved on—as always—and on July 24, 1955, Miss Moye became Mrs. Zeigler at her parents’ home in Wrightsville. The marriage lasted until January 2010 when Tanny passed. Their remains are now buried at Ways Baptist Church Cemetery in the Zeigler family plot.

Come clean the square sometime. You, my students, are our only children—and now the red pen is nearly dry.

SLICES OF MY LIFE…..TO WRENS GA From Carolyn Zeigler – July 27, 2020

My love affair with Wrens and its people actually began a few days before my 13th birthday when I stopped with my piano teacher and her daughter to visit Miss Nannie Stone on Cotton Street. The cobblestone sidewalk that doubled as their front porch, the Spanish portico, the sparkling crystal shelved inside as room dividers, and the very jovial personalities of several ladies who stopped by simply overwhelmed me.

On our way to Harlem, I asked my teacher what the ladies were really discussing. She responded “Probably changing the world.” “Ummm.., I thought to myself, I’d like to do that! I came back to Wrens several times when teams played football in the afternoon. The Cardinals weren’t too tough on the field, but at the teen-town receptions afterward, they were awesome.

During my high school senior year, my mom determined I would go to Georgia Teachers and major in Home Economics. With her, there was no turning back so a freshman rat I became, along with Bobbie Holley Wimpy (Sharon Fleming’s mother) and Betty Jane Thompson Dowdy (Bruce Dowdy’s mother). Through them I leaned that most leadership positions were held by Wrens High graduates with Bud Stone often being student council president. These people were magnets, the most persuasive, charming crew I’d ever observed. While student teaching in Baxley, I was guided by a young couple—he taught adult classes and she taught drama—in a positive direction. They, too, hailed from Wrens.

In these days, Senior Home Ec majors had to attend GSCW for 2-5 hour courses before being vocationally certified. There were five candidates from Statesboro vied with the Jessie girls who repeatedly told us that the vacancies in Georgia schools were always filled by Jessie graduates.

This was the summer of ’52. The minimum foundation program had been passed. In September, the base salary for 1-year certified teachers would be $2,400. Vocational teachers got $200 more because owning an automobile was a requirement. One afternoon, the PA system at the pool come on and the voice asked that Carolyn Moye meet a Mrs. Lewis, the district home economics supervisor in the home ec building at 3:30 for a brief interview. “Oh! Yes! I’ll be there!” I braved this experience in a strapless sundress, curly wet hair, blistered shoulders, shiny nose, and slides, knowing my one chance was oozing down my neckline from the dripping curls. I knocked on the door at 3:28.

Mrs. Lewis introduced me to a silver-haired gentleman, a Mr. Will Wren, Chair of the Wrens School Board. He apologized for giving such short notice, said he was not the one to hire, but he only wanted to meet the seniors Mrs. Lewis would her recommending to his principal later. He asked a few questions and mentioned his wife had been a foreign language teacher and his daughter, Kelly, a senior, thought Wren High School had become a dull place and he believed a dull school was a tragedy.

A few weeks later, a Mrs. Adams notified me that I had the job. Once there I found every teacher was exceptionally friendly and learned. The county had consolidated Avera, Stapleton and Wrens high schools and young people were everywhere, but there was no parking lot. In fact, only two students drove automobiles to school. The atmosphere was solemn, serious, and highly structured. Faculty members had only one opportunity to go to the restroom between 8:15AM and 3:15PM. End of year records were done for school and county plus a Riggs—a booklet for each grade. I once omitted a grade for a tenth grader. The principal found the error two years later and strongly suggested that I repair the mistake within two days. I was on vacation, but I was back within a day. I soon found the best way to have school day fun was to slide down the banister from second to first floor—I did that often! No one but Lena Rabun ever seemed to notice.

The Home Ec teacher in small schools always had one science class. I never anticipated boys being a part of the 35+ group. The AG teacher, James Walden (Jennifer, Laice and Barrow’s grandfather) offered to take the boys. This enabled me to survive my first year, but disciplining the science class remained a weakness for years.

The previous home making teachers had cut deep prints in the school and community. In cooking and canning, I was a total wash-out; so, to find my niche, I had to break new ground. In this I felt comfortable. I knew about movers and shakers.

The year ended with an Old South JR-SR, but I only realized during the blessing that the juniors were responsible not only for decorations and dinner but the program also. Afterwards, we did have live music and a midnight breakfast. Parents thought this insightful for keeping the graduates away from the Partridge Inn, but if I had known that was the custom, I doubt the breakfast would have been suggested.

The FHA’ers and I dedicated ourselves to keeping Mrs. Williams’ punch bowl filled with good deeds and new ideas. In 1959, we were recognized as the state’s most active chapter, having had four state officers, and one State Betty Crocker winner. The punch bowl reached the rim, but I still had not found my niche.

The school population continued to grow and I asked to be considered for the overflow of grades seven and eight. A nice teacher was about to let some seventh and eighth graders run her out of the school room. The lady planned to be out for a few days and the principal asked me to try my luck with this age group. Before recess several boys decided this day was their day to harass the cross-eyed girl. Now, I had beaten an old man over the head with a Mickey Mouse umbrella handle for calling me “B.J.” when I was five and I wasn’t about to let those boys persecute this girl either. I won the “who’s on first” battle with those seventh and eighth graders. That day, I found my niche in the world of teaching children that continued for years. In 1968, a co-star student selected me to share his honor. I was truly glad I wasn’t still trying to impress with a good cole slaw!

The seventies brought another wing to the school and countless changes in philosophy and life. If we had not believed the words of “red, yellow, black and white” from Sunday School years, we needed to leave. Teachers and students and administrators and community leaders were back on primer learning the game of life for real. I felt I was doing something for the worth of mankind for the first time. Maybe I would get a chance to change the world after all.

I became very involved in grammar and composition as well as guarding two seventh and eighth grade classes where I COULD MOLD CITIZENS FOR TOMORROW WITH A FIRM HAND. By the time my 8 “blood brothers of ‘68” were graduating, a new order had been established and in my mind the class of 1973 remains the best.

I’m not quite ready to reel off William Cullen Bryant’s “Thanatopsis”, so I’ll close with Geothe’s Nine Requisites for Contented Living: “Health enough to make work a pleasure. Wealth enough to support your needs. Strength enough to battle with difficulties and overcome them. Grace enough to confess your sins and forsake them. Patience enough to toil until some good is accomplished. Charity enough to see good in your neighbor. Love enough to move you to be useful and helpful to others. Faith enough to make real things of God. Hope enough to remove all anxious fears concerning the future.”

My slices of life became a whole cake. --- The red pen is now dry.

Thank you, Wrens, Georgia, for allowing me to be a part of you…