This essay was originally published in the program for the 2009 Historical Society Annual Dinner in Washington, Illinois. Part one was written by Christy L. Parr and it included the following paragraph: “President Kathy Bandeko was focused on the restoration of a disintegrating round barn located on farmland at the southeast edge of Washington. Her … Continue reading An Incomplete History of the Washington Historical Society
Author: karlkaytaylor
Frank Schulz: On How Not to Succeed in Business
Imagine going to the grocery store in Elmwood in the 1940s or 1950s and finding the door locked – even at noon on Saturday, with no sign in the window: “Closed,” “Be Back in a Minute,” or “On Vacation.” Actually, the owner, Frank Schulz, was on vacation with his buddy Ralph Kilpatrick, the local accountant, … Continue reading Frank Schulz: On How Not to Succeed in Business
An Extended Obituary: Karl K. Taylor, PhD 12/2/1938 – 9/5/2024
A note from the family: We wish Dad, who was a writer, had pre-written his own obituary. Since he did not, we worked together to summarize the highlights of his amazing journey. He was the best father and we know we will see him again in the Kingdom to come. – David, Andrea & Amy … Continue reading An Extended Obituary: Karl K. Taylor, PhD 12/2/1938 – 9/5/2024
RON BAURER’S RECLINER
by Karl K. Taylor In the 1960’s, Washington (Illinois) had three family-owned furniture stores: one operated by George Herbst, another by Roy Sauder and a third by Benjamin Baurer. George’s store on the west side of North Main was founded in 1941 by his father, R. G. Herbst, in a partnership with R. Klaus; the … Continue reading RON BAURER’S RECLINER
“THE KILLERS” at the Visitation
David Karl Taylor reflects on one of his father's fictional works, “The Killers,” written during his father’s college years in 1959. The story captures a young man's experience at a visitation for a beloved doctor, intertwining themes of grief, memory, and the complexities of small-town life. It highlights personal emotions tied to loss.
Remembering David McCullough
Dear Mr. Taylor Thank you very much for taking the time to write and for sending me your essay on Nelson Dean Jay. It was extremely thoughtful of you. Years ago, when I was beginning work on my first book, I had the mistaken idea in my head that I must not talk about what I was doing because someone might steal my idea. I found out soon enough what foolishness that was – that, in fact, I should tell as many as possible about what I was up to, on the chance that some unexpected someone would have information of a kind I might never come across otherwise. And that has been exactly what has happened time and again with each and every project I’ve undertaken, and your material on Mr. Jay is a perfect example. If, as time goes by, you have more you think I should see, I’ll be very pleased to hear from you. In the meantime, I’d love to know whether there are any Jay papers – letter, diaries, and the like – and if so, are they at Knox College? Many thanks and best wishes, David McCullough
Clifford Bateman: PFFP
Cliff and I were waiting for the rain to stop so our airplane could take off. I hadn’t seen him for several years, but he hadn’t changed much. At 40 or so, he still had no gray hair, no wrinkles. He still looked like the wholesome boy next door. A little shorter than six feet, … Continue reading Clifford Bateman: PFFP
The Elmwood Fall Festival: Then and Now
When I was growing up in Elmwood in the 1940s and 50s, the first week of September was a special time. I argued with my parents that the school board should call off classes so kids could spend as much time as possible on the kiddie cars or merry-go-round. Besides, who wanted to diagram more sentences or fill in more workbooks?
Ringling Brothers in Princeville and Elmwood?
“A Grand Celebration at Elmwood, not on the 4th but the 6th of July [1889].” The Elmwood Gazette.
Chapter Two Elmwood, Illinois — July 4, 1900 Independence Day Celebration
Since he played the clarinet in the American Band, Nelson Dean Jay, seventeen years old, took his place to the right of the conductor, sitting on a wooden folding chair beside Frank Shively, a skilled carpenter on his right, and Earl Runyon, a butcher on his left. Joking with his friends, Jay placed the music on his stand and opened his instrument case.
Stories From Small Town Illinois 