As the school year is upon us, I took sometime to think about a few friends I miss dearly. This is a tribute to my old buddy Norm Taylor. This is another one of those things I wrote because I had to get it out of my system…or preserve it, perhaps. Still, whatever the reason, I share it here with you for the first time in publication.
Far Above the Norm
The room was full of laughter, for the most part. That is the way it should be, I think. Me, I just did not handle it too well, not that anyone there did, or should. We all grieve in our own way. In the Day and Carter Mortuary on Monday, December 2, 2012, many of us gathered to pay tribute to one Norm Taylor. His memorial service was held there.
Norm Taylor was a good man. To me, he was a good friend. We were colleagues (I’ve always hated that word “colleagues”) to most that may have seen us together. He and I together saw each other as friends more than that c-word I’ve already used twice.
Norm was the counselor at the NorthLawrenceCareerCenter in Bedford. He was the voice of reason to scores of kids at the CareerCenter for more than fifteen years. He advised them. He hugged them when they needed it. He listened. The kids counted on him.
The student population at the North Lawrence Career Center is comprised of youngsters from Bedford North Lawrence High School, as well as what we call “sending schools”…schools that send some of their students to get educational opportunities their high schools do not provide. “Sending schools’ in 2012 included Brownstown, Medora, Orleans, Mitchell, and so on. One thing I loved about Norm was that he took an interest in all his students, be they from Bedford, Mitchell, or Medora. If I heard it once the days following his death, I heard it a thousand times. It rings like a sweet song each time I hear it and even as I type these very words, “Norm just loved kids”…he wanted to see them succeed and he would do anything he could to facilitate their success.
Norm and I had a great deal in common. We both were enthusiastic about music. Two days before his death I spoke to him on the telephone. We were getting excited about seeing each other three times in the next three weeks. On November 30th, we were going to have Counselors Day at the Career Center, an annual get-together for counselors of the schools with students attending the career center. On December 6th, we had plans to get together at the Murat Theatre to see a concert by my favorite music group, The Moody Blues. A Moodies maniac for many years, I was delighted Norm was finally getting around seeing them after years of my cajoling. Then on December 14th, the big one was coming. Norm, who hosted the Indiana History Project television show, was going to tape a show with me being his guest. I write songs and try to play guitar while I sing them. It usually works out. Having recorded a couple CDs of original tunes, I am proud to say Norm was a fan mine just as I was a fan of his.
On Monday evening, November 28th, I was in my home office. I had a guitar strapped around the back of my neck. I had song lyrics with scribbled chords peppered all over my desk. I had a Moody Blues cassette sitting near, a prop I was going to share as Norm and I taped his show. I was thinking of Norm Taylor and how thankful I was to know him. I was thinking about all the fun we had and how much fun we were going to have.
In the middle of the second verse of a song I was playing, the phone rang. My friend, Brad McCammon, called to tell me he had heard a report that Norm Taylor had died. I quickly made a couple other phone calls until I reached the authoritative source I knew would give me the information I was or was not looking for.
When I caught my breath, I went back to my desk and immediately thought of something Norm Taylor told me the first time he heard a song I had written for a friend of mine who had died in 1997. The song was titled “Don’t Miss the Last Dance”. The sentiment of the song is just as the title suggests.
Understand this: Norm Taylor could shake his head in an approving manner that meant more than most people can say in ten minutes. After listening to the song he shook his head, and said, “That’s a great tribute, Dan.” He paused before continuing, “I know your friend would be touched…he would be proud, Dan.”
Knowing he too was gone, looking back on that moment, Norm Taylor continued to teach me. He made me realize we are all going to miss the last dance. Norm and I did. It’s all the other dances leading up to the last one that really count.
I suppose you wouldn’t be surprised if I said Norm Taylor knew how to…speak the rights.
The last dance Norm and I missed.
Danny Johnson