Kevin Ray Taylor,
I didn’t know you as well as I would have liked or for as long as I would have hoped. It never came up in our conversations that you and I both rode motorcycles. We never discussed how many kids you had or whether or not you were married, single or divorced.
I accidentally called Baytown while you were all fighting through Hurricane Harvey, it being a nice summer day up here in Philadelphia. Linda told me you were off rescuing one of your co-workers dogs that had been left behind at a home that was flooding. That sounded about right.
It was clear to me that you were easy to work with. You knew what you knew and you didn’t tell me things that I wanted to hear but couldn’t have. Over the past few years we had developed a working relationship that was fruitful and positive.
I was making plans to ask you to help me with more machines over the coming year and was looking forward to continuing the relationship with your crew down there in Texas as you moved into you new digs. You sounded excited about the coming move.
You were always a straight shooter, with a hint of mischief in every conversation. I felt sucker punched when Lendell called to tell me that you were gone.
Here is a little prayer that the tank is always full up there on the roads running through the pearly gates; and that you are riding hard with the angels. I would have liked to have known you better.
John