TAYLOR RIDGE Per "Jessamine County, 1798-1993" submitted by Evelyn Taylor Brumfield Cook Taylor Ridge Road starts at Hunter's Ferry Road and ends at the Kentucky River. Undoubtedly it was named for John Taylor, who lived in a pretentious historic home on the ridge. The Taylor estate consisted of a log and frame house with an unusual "bee room" (upstairs backporch) where hives were kept, slave cabins, blacksmith shop and a barn built to conform to the slope of the earth. The pond, enclosed by a limestone rock wall, was where everybody came to kill hogs, according to Susie Blakeman Cotton, who lived with her grandmother on Taylor Ridge. Eldon Taylor, age 94 when interviewed in 1989, said "John Taylor owned just about all of that neighborhood at one time. My father, Hiram Lincoln Taylor of Madison County, built those barns. John had a brother, "Si", an old gray-haired man who liked to ride a bicycle. Bourbon County Tax records, 1830, show a John Taylor, a Simon Taylor, and a Samuel Taylor whom I believe are the same ancestral line as my own (Zachary Taylor line). Denton Willis, son of Blaine and Iona Willis, said, "Wagons were mired in mud up to their hubs on the old road, and there were gates every thirty feet." Susie Blakeman Cotton had to open seven gates on that dirt and mud road on her way to school at Mt. Lebanon. In the early 1930's a new paved road was built. In 1937, my parents, Andrew and Ella Taylor, moved their family to a farm owned by Burton Willis. Other families in the neighborhood at that time were Brumfields, Davises, Blakemans, Burtons, Humphreys, Hagers, Cobbs, Lowrys, and Woods. On that road, I saw one buggy, owned by my great uncle, Andrew Jackson "Pete" Hager. Old Joe's Market Truck was always a welcome sight on Taylor Ridge. He bought eggs and chickens and sold large penny suckers. Then there was the mailman, who every spring delivered 100 baby chicks to Mama from a Lexington hatchery. His auto replaced the old "step-up" covered wagon that Susie remembered. One of the most welcomed vehicles was that of the ice man. His visit meant we could make ice cream. Daddy believed Saturday was "town day" and neighbors let us ride with them. Daddy like to meet his "kin" and others at Bill Stotts across from the Court House. On January 20, 1940, I married Moss Brumfield, who also believed in going to town in his car even if it had to be pushed up the river hill. When people heard him coming around those bends on Taylor Ridge, they knew to park by the side of the road. The years have brought changes on Taylor Ridge since Wallace Willis rode his horse "Morgan" to our house and found us making ice cream in the smokehouse. Wallace is gone, as is Moss, who died during World War II. Our old house is also gone, burned, but the smokehouse is still there, along with our memories.