Papa Taylor and Mary Francis had seven children in this (?) birth order: Horace, Elizabeth, Elsie, Margie, Selma, George and Dorothy. Rowland Pattillo reports the seven were very intelligent people who were a credit to society.



Papa Taylor
John Thomas Walter Raney Taylor, Aug 13, 1862 - April 3, 1951, Age 88
Buried: Sardis Cemetery, Pine Grove, Arkansas
Wife: Mary Frances Harrison, Sept 21, 1862 - Oct 16, 1916, Age 54
A second marriage (of convenience?/Rowland) to the beloved "Miss Fannie" Sauce. She dipped snuf causing some to "look down" on her. After John T.'s death, she moved to Colorado Springs to live with her daughter. Fannie and Papa had no children of their own.
John T. Taylor was considered a successful business man under the circumstances of his day, a staunch supporter of his Sardis Methodist Church. He owned a general store and ran the local post office.
Papa Taylor's Parents:
John T. Z. Taylor, b. 1831 Tennessee, d. before Aug 13, 1862
Margaret Elizabeth Mann, April 9, 1835 - Oct 21, 1903, Age 68

  

Margie Taylor and husband Arthur J. Vestal
Lived in Arkadelphia, Arkansas where AJ was a farmer, banker and a
successful oil lease and real estate developer.
Margie b. May 23, 1890 d. May 8, 1962, age almost 72
Arthur b. Aug 24, 1879 d. July 6, 1956, age almost 77
Married Nov 22, 1917 in Pine Grove, Dallas  County, Arkansas
Both are buried in Rose Hill Cemetary, Arkadelphia, Arkansas
Sons: William Arthur and Jack Herring Vestal

   

Phillip Horace Taylor and wife Carrie Benton
1888 - 1958
Lived in Sparkman, Arkansas
Horace was a pillar of his Methodist Church in Sardis preparing and teaching
for many years a Sunday School Class.  An astute businessman, he owned the local
cotton gin and a cotton warehouse to store cotton that he bought and sold. He was thought to
have considerable interests in farm and timberland. Memories by his daughter and nephew Rowland Pattillo are of his generosity with his time and money. After Rowland and John's dad died at age 33 from a burst appendix, Uncle Horace was most attentive to the boys. Rowland remembers that he always drove a new car that could drive fast. At one point in his life his health was such that Margie and AJ had him live with them so he could be closely attended. (?)
According to David McMillan, Horace sought treatment for depression at one point and later paid
for similar treatment for his sister Dot in Nashville, Tennessee.

Children: Martha Jean, Phillip and Benton.

 
 

Selma Taylor
widow of Rowland Dale Pattillo, Sr who died at the
 young age of 33 from a burst burst appendix. Selma was gregarious and resourceful working
at Henderson College with a community childrens program.  She completed her college
degree.  Later, she was a house mother at Hendrix College. Returning to the college
after a Christmas break, she was in a terrible car accident permanently injuring her hip.
She had to walk with the help of forearm crutches. She boarded college students
in her home, and she wisely managed her financial resources.  She was widely
known and loved  in Arkadelphia for her angle food cakes.
Selma was born Sept 30, 1895, died 1980 age 85.
Children: Roland Dale II and John Pattillo (d. 2009)

     


Susan Elizabeth Taylor Daniel
and husband John Toney Daniel
Arkadelphia, Arkansas.
Toney was a successful salesman.
Children: Jane, Elizabeth and John Toney Daniel

 

Dorothy Taylor
died July 14, 1981
She was a librarian in Arkadelphia. She was a very attractive intelligent woman, but she felt she was never given the opportunity to marry.  Being the youngest child and a daughter, her father discouraged her romances because he relied on her assistance.  He discouraged at least one serious suitor. She was known to have spells of serious disabling depression and became dependent on family, especially her sister Margie and AJ.  After their deaths, a large number of her neices and nephews families lovingly continued supporting her with monthly allowances. Elizabeth McMillan was very attentive of Dot in her declining years. She lived in various places: St. Louis, Arkadelphia and Malvern, Arkansas.



George Taylor
wife was Sallie Maude Ross.
George was a Chevrolet car dealer in Camden, at Henderson College a very good
athlete, and a noted college debater. He and Sallie had no children. (Rowland recalls
that she "never related well with the family.")  George died early of a skin or blood disorder that (John Vestal recalls) likely was caused from an infection of a "spiked" cut in a baseball game. Pictures of Sallie seem "non-existent ?" as some say she was "camera shy." And others have commented on her beautiful clothes and shoes and small feet. With the
family connections to the Ross family, Elisa Cole and Ashley Ross, Sr are married as "cousins-in-law!"



Elsie Taylor and husband Gilbert Gammill.  They lived in El Dorado, Arkansas
where he owned a successful lumber yard - Reynolds Gammill.
Their one son Porter Gammill tragically died very late in WWII. His beautiful widow
Mary Louise later  married Breck Goodloe, and they lived out
their adult life in Staunton, Virginia, where Breck was successful in law. 

Gilbert had a lumber yard in Philadelphia, Mississippi. On a family visit from sister Elizabeth, Jane Daniel fell in love with a local boy, Wilbur Cole. She and Wilbur were later married in Uncle Gilbert's home in El Dorado (?). (Thus the reason for the Cole daughters being from Philadelphia.)

Mary Louise Goodloe at age 90 continues to live in Staunton with considerable assistance. 
Her son John Porter is now retired there and helps manage her care.  John's step sister Kim Goodloe Rochow lives in
Atlanta where she enjoys her three daughters. 


Note: All the notes about peoples, their businesses, interests and even health concerns are compiled from memories shared within the family.  Their accuracy is always open to revision!

Three of the four living 3G'ers are attending the Reunion: Maribeth Vestal, Rowland Pattillo, Mary Louise Gammill Goodloe and Dodie Vestal.

Mary Elizabeth "Maribeth" Evans Vestal, turns 88 on Nov 28, 2010.
After 57 years involved with Snyder, an oil and cotton town in west Texas, she moved in 2009 to a
retirement community in Dallas. She sold her home of 52 years in early 2010.
Bill Vestal, a petroleum engineer and civic leader, died in 1976
of  blood and  heart problems at age 56. Maribeth taught music and choirs in the local schools.
Her children are shown with her in 2008: Margie Anne Vestal Hegi of Dallas,
Elizabeth Taylor Vestal Burkhalter of Lubbock, and Arthur Jerome "Jerry" Vestal II of Grapevine.
 Maribeth has 6 grand children and 14 great grand children. Her immediate family clan totals 33.



Mary "Dodie" Swilly Vestal with husband
Jack Herring Vestal, now deceased, who was a geologist in the oil and gas business like both his father and his brother.  Dodie still lives in El Dorado, Arkansas, where she is active in her community.

Their children are John Harrison Vestal and Jennifer of Dallas
and Caroline Vestal Ponsford of Birmingham, Alabama.
Caroline's husband Jack Ponsford died a year ago on November 17th.
Dodie has 2 Vestal grandsons and 2 Ponsford grand daughters plus a 1 year old great grand daughter.

  

Mary LouiseGammill Goodloe and son John Porter Gammill.
Mary Louise is the widow of G. Porter Gammill, son of Elsie Taylor and Gilbert Gammill. Porter was killed in the very waining days of WW II.  John Porter was 18 months old. She remarried Breck Goodloe, a lawyer and later judge in Staunton, Virginia where John is recently retired.
Mary Louise's daughter is Kim Goodloe Rochow of Atlanta, Georgia. Kim has 3 daughters.

 

Nell Elizabeth Cown Pattillo, died April 23, 2010 age 88.
Rowland Dale Pattillo II is 87, named for his father. Rowland was a successful CPA, early partner in the Patillo Brown firm which is widely respected all over Central Texas. He is a past president of the Texas Society of Certified Public Accountants, and a former mayor of Waco.  His emcee talents are immense bolstered by his love of humorous stories often with a self deprecating twist.

In picture above Rowland hugs cousin Susan Cole Noble of New Orleans on the celebration
of Betsy McMillan's memorial service at Rose Hill Cemetary, Arkadelphia.
Betsy, a Downs child, died Oct 18, 2002, aged 50.
Rowland and Nell's two boys are Rowland Dale "Spike" Pattillo III and wife Sherry;
Also George Dennis "Denny" Pattillo and 2nd wife Laura.  Claudia Pattillo died from (MS?)  in early 2000s. All live in Waco.
Rowland has 5 grand children and 3 great grand children.

A collection of 5G'ers pictures

Incomplete and random collection of 4G'ers pictures.

The 1974 Taylor Reunion, Arkadelphia - Attendance Roster (CLICK PAGES TO ENLARGE). Thanks Jonn Vestal for sharing this from your records.. NOW, WHERE IS THE GROUP PICTURE, PLEASE, ANYONE ???

A Treasure submitted by John Vestal: Studio Portrait of Selma Taylor Pattillo.



Selma Taylor Pattillo
Widow of Rowland Dale Pattillo, Sr
(submitted by John Vestal)



Dorothy Taylor and sister Selma Taylor
(picture provided by David McMillan)

(John, the blogger program doesn't allow pdf files so I printed in B&W and scanned to a jpg file.  It didn't come out as good as I'd like.)

Childcare being provided at the Reunion on Saturday Evening

Following our wonderful Reunion Banquet on Saturday evening (from 6:00 to 9:00 PM), we have engaged 3 highly dependable sitters from 7-11:00 PM.

Rebecca Vestal Augustine, who is a 4th grade teacher and friend of one of the girl's mother, has arranged for three 16-17 year old junior girls to watch after the children.  We have two large deluxe suites located in our room block to use for childcare.

Use of these sitters is optional to the degree the mothers feel it suits their particular needs. 

There is no cost to the 5G families!

The idea here is to provide maximum freedom for the adults to enjoy visiting with one another.

Gaylord Texan - Holiday Ice Sculpture Exhibit opens November 12th

A Charlie Brown Christmas is the theme of the Gaylord's always anticipated Ice Sculpture exhibit.  There was a big spread today in the Dallas Morning News about the exhibit.

My sister Jan emailed the following:

Come to family reunion and plan to tour the Peanuts characters in ice!  The ice sculptures open this Friday just in time for our reunion!  It's pricy but worth it!  See today's Metro section of DMN.   It's 9 degrees in the exhibit so bring hats, gloves and a coat for children... coats are also available but you might like your own.

 

Cost $13.95-$24.95. It is worth it!!

Nov.12-Jan. 3)

I suggest getting tickets ahead of time.

 

For details, go to Gaylord's Lone Star Christmas

 

Jan

A Highlight of the Reunion will be the presence of John Porter Gammill and his sister Kim Goodloe Rochow

5G'ers - the latest collection of photos. Most recently added is Julie and Jerome Simoni who live in Conway, Arkansas. Julie is Jerry and Susan DeLaughter Young's daughter.

There are 80 total people coming to the reunion.  From the 5Gs above plus some of the children, there will be 52 people (including 28 6G children.  The picture above is by no means complete plus some shown are unable to attend.  And, not shown but coming is Carter and Elizabeth McMillan from Dallas who will be in attendance with their 2 daughters Sarah and Caroline.

For a detailed worksheet of those attending and when, you can click on the following link: https://spreadsheets.google.com/pub?key=0AuBMRB4hbM37dDJDLTlocEdqTGNiVnpENFpBTmsyWmc&hl=en&single=true&gid=0&output=html

The Gaylord Resort promises to be a Holiday Wonderland for all.  The 3Gs and 4Gs truly believe you will be glad you were able to make this investment of time with your extended family.  Safe travels!!

The "G" Labels for those currently coming to the reunion

80 people are now signed up for the November 13th reunion.  The "G" or generation totals are:

3G'ers -   3
4G'ers - 25
5G'ers - 24
6G'ers - 28

For all the details, click on the web based worksheet.

Black Titlest 7

By David W. McMillan, Ph.D.

(Written privately years ago and shared now for the reunion.)

          It was Saturday, 8 A.M., August 14, 1960. As I was waking I could hear the rumble of voices downstairs and the opening and closing of the front door. These were the same sounds of my parents having a large party, but it was eight in the morning. These sounds were exceptionally loud because I could hear them over the drone of my window air-conditioning unit.

          With the crystallized remains of sleep in the corners of my eyes I stumbled out of bed, put on some shorts and wandered slowly to the stairs in the hall outside my room with the fist knuckles of the back of my hand rotating in my eye sockets, scraping the sleep out of my eyes. I heard mother’s footsteps running up the stairs. When I pulled my fists out of my eyes my mother met me out of breath at the top of the steps.

          “What’s happening downstairs?” I asked.

          “David,” she replied, ignoring my question taking some time to look squarely at me. “Bill is dead.”

          “Oh mother, that’s not funny. What’s going on downstairs?”

          “David, Bill is dead. He and Jo Carol were parked out in the woods on the other side of the highway from the bluff. Apparently that was the place where they parked to be together. They had the engine on so the air conditioner would work and somehow the air conditioner pulled up the carbon monoxide from the exhaust and it killed them. They say it killed Bill first and then Jo Carol, because his body was more bloated.”

          “Mother what are those people doing downstairs? Bill’s not dead! This is a bad joke. What’s really going on?”

          Eventually it became real to me. At 14 I had my first experience of losing to death someone I loved. Bill was 19. He was spending his summer between his freshman and sophomore college year at home. Bill Jr. was the oldest. Toney was one year younger. I was five years younger than Bill and my sister Betsy was six years younger than me.

          My father, Bill Senior, was an archetypal SOB lawyer. He could unpredictably fill our home with rage. My brother Bill was a classic good boy scout, salutatorian of his high school class, quarterback of his football team, president of the student body in high school, good student in his freshman year in college, best pledge in his fraternity. He was quiet, disciplined, hard working and much loved and respected. My brother Toney was not Bill. He had a temper. He was handsome and graceful.  I was the clown, the dramatic jokester, always wanting to play with my brothers, often in trouble for irritating my father. Mother was like Bill Jr. She was valedictorian of her high school and college classes. She was an expert pianist and vocalist. She put flowers in the church every Sunday. She had a roast at whoever’s home had an illness or death. And gave Betsy, who was born a Down’s baby, every opportunity to learn.

          Bill was especially important to me. In addition to being my idol, he was my protector. He would stand up for me when my father seemed to be on the verge of overpunishing me. Toney was often angry at me and Bill would take up for me.

          When my brothers were in high school we had ping-pong tournaments on the back porch. Toney would challenge Bill. Bill was the high school ping-pong champ. Toney was probably better than Bill but Toney was too impatient and often lost his temper and when he did, Bill easily defeated him. I was always allowed to play the winner. If it was Bill I would somehow manage to win and I would be the champion until Toney would pulverize me, often 21 to 10 or more. And the cycle would be repeated.

          Bill took up golf when he was sixteen. And of course I began to play too at age eleven. I got pretty good at it. We played on our small town’s nine-hole course. I thought I could compete with his cronies. He would never let me play with them because they gambled. But when he wasn’t around I would push myself into a game and always lose more money than I had. Bill would have to cover my losses. After he paid up I would always get a talking too.

          Two days before Bill died we played golf together. Bill had a job at Safeway and had money to buy golf balls. I had to use ones that I found or ones that he would give me because they were too banged up for him to use. Bill was driving his 1957 Chevrolet that he shared with Toney. When we got to the course we got out of the car, grabbed our golf bags, and walked toward the clubhouse and Bill said, “Wait here I’ve got to buy some golf balls.” I wasn’t going to miss this. I followed Bill into the pro shop.

          “Give me four balls from the ball jar and a sleeve of Black Titlest 7’s. Seven is my lucky number,” he said. A Black Titlest was a 100-compression ball. It was the ball most pros used. It was more solid and when hit with great power would go further. Seven was simply one number in nine that golf ball companies used to identify their golf balls.

          I watched as he released the flap of the small box holding the brand new balls. “Here,” he said, as he noticed me ogling these new Black Titlests. He handed me one of the three balls that rolled out of the box. “Black Titlest 7. You can have one.” I grabbed it quickly before he could change his mind.

          “Thanks,” I said. I’m sure my face beamed in appreciation and excitement. I had to play with it since it was the one the pros used and by the third hole I had lost it. Bill lost one of these three new balls on the sixth hole.

          After Bill’s funeral I began searching for Bill’s golf bag. I finally found it in the trunk of his 1957 Chevrolet. He was left-handed so I didn’t inherit his clubs. But I rifled through the pockets on the golf bag. I found a few old balls and the brand new Black Titlest 7.

          It was my treasure. I carried it in my pocket much like boys do with lucky buckeyes. I would reach in my pockets and rub the concave dimples with my thumb, carefully feeling the texture of the many circular bridges that formed those small indentions. I loved to turn the ball until I could feel the carved script. I would feel T-i-t-l-e-s-t spelled out on my thumb like Braille and then the 7 below. As I felt it I imagined the black ink instead of the black and red of the 90-compression ball and I would feel strong – as if Bill was sending me a jolt of confidence. 

          Sometimes when I would play I would think of it as magic. I would pull it out of my pocket and use it as my putting ball on the green. I held on to it, taking it out of my pocket and putting it on my dresser with my change at night. In the morning back in my pocket it went.

          One late afternoon I teed off by myself on the first hole without practicing. I sliced my first ball way right. I hooked my second ball to the left. I hit a third tree shot to the right again into the trees. The only ball I had left was the Black Titlest 7. So I hit it. It went in the woods to the right too. I gathered my golf bag and went off to find my golf balls. The one I hooked to the left was the best play ball. So I found it and hit it toward the green for my second shot. Then I went looking for the balls I hit on the right, especially the Black Titlest 7.

          As I walked over to the woods and creek on the right side of the fairway it occurred to me that I might not find the Black Titlest 7. I went right to the Sycamore tree that I used to mark the line of the flight of the ball. I walked all around the tree using the soles of my tennis shoes to feel for round bumps in the ground that I hoped would be Bill’s ball. I used my nine iron to whack at the tall grass and push down into the small creek that oozed among those trees. I felt bumps and reached to find rocks. I found one of the balls I hit there but not the Black Titlest 7. I became frantic, slashing at the underbrush and poking into the water with my nine iron. Tears formed in my eyes and moans began to emerge from my mouth. Suddenly I heard someone shout “fore.” There was a twosome on the tee. I waved them through, hoping they were too far away to see me crying. I was humiliated, ashamed. I could hear my brother lecturing me about my impulsiveness, my poor judgment and immaturity. It was all true. Losing the Black Titlest 7 proved the point. How could I have even considered hitting it? And now it’s lost. After forty-five minutes I gave up the search. I walked away toward the green wanting to go back and look some more. I felt like I had lost Bill again and this time it was my fault. I will never get over losing that Black Titlest 7.

Elsie Taylor - one of the Papa Taylor's five daughters.

She and her husband Gilbert Gammill lived in El Dorado, AR. "Uncle Gilbert" owned a lumber yard. Their son Porter died in the latter days of WWII. Their daughter-in-law Mary Louise (Gammill) Goodloe lives in Staunton, Virginia where her son John Porter lives.  Mary Louise married Breck Goodloe.  Their daughter Kim Goodloe Rochow lives now in Atlanta, Georgia and her three daughters Breck, Lindsey and Somer live near.

John Porter and Kim are coming to the Taylor Reunion!

Who is coming and when! (LINK)

NOTE: This worksheet is not intended to be a family tree.  It CONTINUES to be used to keep up with the specific interests shown and commitments made regarding attending the Papa Taylor Family Reunion. 

So, if you need your own worksheet line, it is up to you!

Martha Jean Taylor and Dub DeLaughter. Their children and grandchildren. (Dub's birthday October 11th! Thanks Gail DeLaughter Pennington.

SOME of the 5G'ers in the Taylor strand! An amazing collage the 3Gs and 4Gs are proudly invested in!

Remember, clicking on a blog picture makes it LARGER. A second time, even LARGER!

P.H. Taylor serves on 1929 Sparkman School Board

Martha Jean Taylor and George W "Dub" DeLaughter wed April 28, 1946 at Sardis Methodist Church, Pine Grove, Arkansas

Toney and Elizabeth Taylor Daniel a.k.a. "HiPop" and "Bobbobbie"

 

Shopping in Hot Springs

Elizabeth, Elizabeth Taylor Daniel and Jane

Toney the salesman with order book on right.