Just five days from today, my Dad, John R. Taylor, will celebrate birthday number 88.
Happy birthday, Dad.
Born Nov. 6, 1921, Dad grew up through the Great Depression and has lived in Monroe County for almost his entire life. For him, Monroe County is home. And though as his four children we have our own homes, wherever Dad is will always be home for us, too.

Mom and Dad and Brenda and I, Kevin and Brooks came along later, spent a few months in Loudon in the early 50s, but soon moved back to Shortbark in Monroe. That's the real Shortbark, between Oak Grove Road and the Hiwassee Church of God. It's not the fancy subdivision by the same name. Now that's a real nice place with beautiful homes. But, hey, somebody stole that name.

Oh, I know that imitation is supposed to be the highest form of flattery, but somehow I don't think that applies in this case. But that's a good name and I'm glad to see it living on.
Now Loudon is a fine place, and Dad bought a nice house near where Loudon High is now. But we left it for a number of reasons. First of all, there was nothing to do after the work day ended. And penning country folks on a little-bitty lot in town really makes them restless.

There was no television, hadn't even heard of one, so we saw almost every movie that came to Cole's Drive-in Theater during that time. And the highway runs close to that house and the railroad is one block away. Two more reasons for country folks to scat for home.
We did just that, and Dad, who was the manager of a dime store in Loudon, drove his '51 Chevy there and back every day.

There was one other time Dad didn't live in Monroe County. That came courtesy of Uncle Sam from 1943 'til 1945. That began with a few nights in Georgia, and then a few in Florida followed by one night in New Jersey and the remainder were spent, as they say, "across the pond."
He stayed in those far countries until the war in Europe ended and the atom bomb cancelled another trip Uncle Sam had planned, that one to the Pacific.
Then came what Dad will tell you was the best thing that ever happened to him. He married Mom. Jessie Faye (Jackie) Brooks.

From what I gather it was expected, the whole community just knew it would happen. But when the day came to pop the question Mom put him off, "I'll let you know later."
Watching them for more than half a century tells me Dad was on the proverbial pins and needles until she answered. A few days later she said, "Yes."
Dad told me that story; "It took me 40 years to get the nerve to ask why she put me off and she said, 'I wanted to ask God again.'"

She was wise for 19, for asking the Creator is always a good formula for success.
And successful they were. And still are, even though the Creator took Mom to a more perfect home in 2001. You can see it when he proudly identifies her picture as his wife to every new visitor to his home.
So to Dad once more, Happy Birthday.
And Dad, we're gonna celebrate number 88 with a party. No, we're not takin' you some place fancy; were gonna do it at your house.
We're comin' home.

taylormadetalk@yahoo.com