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Wyllys and Cathy

I did have both my parents on one page but I found several pictures from my Mother's side that I wanted to share so I decided to split it up this time. Instead of starting with my Daddy, I'm starting with the two people who formed his character, his parents.


Pop, or Wyllys Hard Taylor, Sr., was born 9/30/1884 as the 7th of 8 children. He spent some time in the Philippines in his early years, graduated from Clemson Agricultural and Engineering College (before it was Clemson University) as a Civil Engineer. He was 39 when he got married to Nadeen Hayden, who was 19.


I'll tell some of her story later along with a photo...altho just look at me and you see her.

Mom and Pop settled in to Newnan, GA and then up to Slater-Marietta, SC to the textile mill up there. My grandfather was the manager of the mill and went thru the depression much better off than most folks. It was just after this that they bought High Home and used it as a summer retreat.

I only knew one set of my paternal grandparents. Mom, as I called my grandmother, Nadeen Hayden, was the oldest of three children. She is the one that I get my middle name from, Hayden. I look just like Mom and have her laugh. I hope tho that I grow old a little more gracefully. After Pop died, she became bitter. Actually, her heart died with him and she was never the same.


Mamie was born Olive Dukes in Rowesville, SC down near Orangeburg. She married Thomas Jefferson Hayden. When I knew them, they lived in Charlotte, NC. They had three children. This picture is a family photo of my grandmother and her siblings. My grandmother was the oldest, T.J. or Bubba was the middle, and Bark was the youngest. I didn't know til I was well into my 30's what happened to Bubba...you see, he died before I was born. Apparently he was in a truck accident on his way down the mountain on a CCC job. For those who aren't historical buffs, the CCC was the Civilian Conservation Corp and he was working up in the TVA or the Tennessee Valley Authority.


This is Mamie and I have no clue as to the year it was made. I do know that it was before I remember her since for all of my life, she had a beautiful head of silver hair. I only saw it down once in my life. I had to go to the bathroom and was up in the attic rooms. I had to go thru her room to get there and she had *retired* for the night. She had her hair down and was brushing it very slowly. It reached the floor from where she was sitting but the only way I had ever seen it and would ever see it again was in a figure 8 bun at the nape of her neck. It was just that type of life back then. She never exited her room except for emergencies unless she was dressed for the day...and that was dressed as in a dress and heels and makeup (a little) and her hair done...none of this sweat pants and tshirts for that generation. She was in one word, a *lady*. She died my senior year in high school. She was 94.


Margaret Hayden, known as Bark or Aunt Bark depending on the level of generations down you go, had a bigger crew of kids than anyone else, even if she never had any of her own. She never married...declared herself an *unclaimed jewel* and was highly thought of by her peers, her family, her friends. This is the letter I wrote the day she died. I titled it,

*Bark has gone home*

I found out about 1 PM CDT that Bark had died in the hospital about an hour before. I am going to miss her. And now I have a very special angel watching over me.

She lived a good life the way she wanted in a time when being an unmarried female was hard. She was born on Feb. 7, 1908 in Orangeburg, SC to Thomas Jefferson and Olive Dukes Hayden. She was christened Margaret Hayden. When my sister was born, my dad asked what she would pick as a middle name if she had been able to....she chose Ann.

Bark got her nickname when my dad was born. He had trouble with Margaret and it got corrupted. So she has been Bark for almost 72 years to several generations. Bark never married and never had her own children but she has *children* and *grandchildren* and even *great grandchildren*...not of her blood but of her love.

My last memory of her was at mine & Charles' wedding. She had come up and spent the weekend with my Mother, her ex-niece in law. We weren't leaving until the next morning for our honeymoon so we went over to my Mother's to see her and Bark.

I can still see me sitting on the floor, Charles on the sofa, and Mother and Bark in the two chairs... while Charles & I unwrapped some more of our wedding presents. I will always be grateful for the impulse that made Charles & I go over there. It was his one real chance to get to know Bark.

I will miss her but I know she is happy and well and watching over us. I know she lived her *dash* the way she wanted.

So here's to you, Bark!!! From your loving grandniece...Elizabeth Hayden Taylor Ramsey

Margaret Hayden
Feb. 7, 1908-Oct. 22, 1999

It seems that my father and I have a high standard to live up to, as well. He comes from an impressive heritage himself.

His mother, Mom, to two generations was Nadeen Hayden and the oldest of the three. Mom died in April, 1977, right after Caroline (Daddy's youngest) was born and and she was 74 years old. She was born September 1903. To be honest, the *heart* of her died when Pop did in June 1964. This picture was taken while Mom and Pop were living in Arlington, VA. I was 3 years old at the time.


Mom actually worked for 6 months before she got married, as a teacher. But once married, she settled into being a housewife. She raised 4 sons along the way. All of them Eagle Scouts, all have college degrees, and all served in the military. My favorite memory of her was her comment to my dad moaning about turning 40...she rounded on him with *how do you think *I* feel with a son who is 40?* He never moaned about his age again. She was also an excellent cook, and did beautiful knitting and tapestry.



Did I save the best for last? Maybe not, but surely the strongest personality and the one who forged mine. This is Daddy. He was too young for WWII and a touch old for first draft during Korea but he was serving at Ft. Riley, KS digging trenches when I was born...we were headed there actually...well, Mother was...I was along for the ride.

I was devastated when he left Mother, and was blaming myself and the rest of the world. I know better now and we are both better for it.

Only time I saw my Daddy cry was just a few years ago. We were doing a swing of the southern relatives and were also trying to get the Jazzy he was giving me attached to the back of our Blazer. Well, while they were doing all the metal work and electrical work, Daddy took Charles and I to lunch. He was in the mood to reminisce and we let him. He said there wasn't much he had done in his life that he regretted. That it was a wasted emotion but he did regret not telling his dad before he died, that he loved him and to hug him. You see, back when Daddy was 17 and heading off to Clemson on the train, at the station Daddy hugged Mom but stuck his hand out to Pop to shake. Up until then there had been hugs between them. But Daddy felt he was too old for a hug. And he never had a chance to hug his dad again.

Daddy is living his dash the way he wants...with an eye on the future while seeing the present and not looking back but learning from the past.

Since I wrote this, Daddy has added another chapter to his life. He remarried and added a more members to the family. Her name is Cathy and now has an 15 year old daughter to raise...after raising four to adulthood already.


You can see the Taylor Family genealogy at RootsWeb My database is located at: The Taylor and Robinson Ancestors