Seems like the question always comes up. Who was your hero or mentor when you were growing up? I usually answer that my dad was number one. Next in line would be uncle Bill, Al Hanson and just a bunch of ordinary people that I was fortunate enough to know during my life time. Lots of those people were women. My mom, Grace Atkins and Mrs. Oxnard were just three of many ladies that influenced my life.

Sadly enough I also met my share of "Real Bastards" during my life. However I feel that some good came from those encounters as well. I've always believed that a mans "Ego" and personal feelings need a good "Kicking Around" now and then. Makes you tough for those times when you need to be. I will devote some words to the good and bad as I tell my story hoping to make my point and keep your attention as well.

Inspiration and knowledge can sometimes come from the darnedest places.  Several people that influenced my life did it by playing on my sympathies and the very fact that my dealing with them caused me to pause and consider what it would be like to trade places with them.

Ray Taylor and his little brother went to school with me. They rode the same school bus as me and Lowell and lived not too far from the Shear place. In today's society Ray and his brother would be special education kids.  Neither child had the mental capacity to fit into the accepted "Normal" society of that day and period. Because the state or federal government didn't recognize the special needs of people like the Taylor brothers, they were lost into a world that cared little about their problems.

The Taylor boys never missed a day of school. They always had clean clothes. Liberty overalls, homemade feed sack shirts and "Brogan" style shoes. The clothing was old and patched but never dirty. Their mother waited in the front yard until she saw her kids off on the bus. She always cooked them something for breakfast and packed them a lunch in a brown paper bag. I reckon she didn't have the money to pay the small cost of the lunch room program.

Them two boys were treated awful during the school day. I wondered if their mother had any idea of how much abuse her sons suffered at the hands of their school mates. I remember thinking that maybe the woman thought that continued exposure would make the boys "Normal". I wish for their sake that such would have been the case. 

My mom bless her heart, taught me a Lowell a lot about tolerance and reaching out to those we could help. My dad was of the same mind. He'd tell us that helping folks was as good for us as it was for them that received the help. With that thought in mind I set out to try and help the Taylor brothers. The out come of my decision was confusing to me. My mom said that such things sometime result in a "Bitter Sweet" out come at the time. She claimed the true lesson and benefit may be years in its coming. Looking back over my life I'm inclined to agree with her.

When I reached out to the Taylor boys I didn't realize how much they would cling to anyone that offered even the smallest act of kindness. I was lucky to have had the Wideman boys and my brother to help me out. Lots of the Taylor tormentors switch their meanness over to me when I stood up for Ray and his brother. It went on for most of the school year but I did seem to win some people over and the Taylor boys had a life with a  little more peace as a result of our efforts. Its been oh so many years since I've seen the Taylor's. I hope they are well and at peace where ever life took them.

To have lived and survived the life those kids had to live is a tribute to them and their sweet loving mother. I never met or saw the father of these boys so I cannot comment pro or con on him but I do consider the rest of the family to be hero's in every sense of the word.