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| John Taylor | Tom Taylor |
| Pages 1, 2, 3, 4 | Pages 5, 6, 7, 8 |
I've buried too many close friends
lately and I just decided it would be nice to write a
living memorial for two people
who have been the greatest contributors to my life, my own brothers, John
and Tom Taylor. Most of you, who know me through my fossil work and this web
site, never see those behind the scenes. John and Tom have been there. And
without their help, encouragement and sometimes critical financial help, my
fossil work and the
John is my older brother of three years. Tom is three years younger.
John is an actor, an operatic singer,
a dancer, and reads some 50 political and news sources a week. Rush Limbaugh
doesn’t get much up on my brother. John is also a long-time member of MENSA.
That’s an organization for smart people, one I’ve never attempted to join -
for good reasons. But, we all grew up on the farm with a dad who was a
cowboy. We raised cows, horses, and stupid sheep. By the way, all sheep are
stupid... Being 17 miles from the nearest town, and farming in the 1950s, a
farmer rancher had to be able to do everything; rebuild engines, fix flats
the hard way, weld, solder, castrate hogs, shear sheep, kill and cut up
beef, be a mechanic, an expert tractor driver and a good hoe-hand. Most of
all, you had to work and work hard and long. John did all of that long
before Tom and I. He started working in the field at age seven. Tom and I
had so many allergies that we got out of a lot of work till we were 12. Then
we too were expected to get out there and hit it hard. “
Our dad, whom we only called Pa, pronounced, “Paw” was an
entertainer. He was a hilarious story teller and like his sons had alter
egos. Our favorite was the moron with severely diminished intelligence and
the crippled hands that waved limply in front of his poor pitiful walk and
whose eyes rolled uselessly back in their sockets. His rendition as a hick
in a pair of red cowboy long johns delivering Andy Griffith’s “What
It Was,
Was Football” was an immense hit at the local Lions Club shows. That and the
“Wild Man of Borneo” cemented our brother John’s desire to do likewise. And
he did.
Our Pa, the
moron. Our brother John, like
father like son. Notice the one crossed eye.
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