‘A Great Kid’

Published 11:04 am Tuesday, December 30, 2008

J.D. Barker said the last time he was in South Point’s new gymnasium, he was watching his cousin, Roman Corey Taylor play basketball.

A skilled player on the basketball court, Corey Taylor could command attention. Monday night, Barker watched as a steady stream of people filed quietly into that same gym and past his cousin’s casket.

Taylor was killed in a car accident Christmas night. He would have turned 19 New Year’s Eve. Instead of celebrating that birthday, friends and family and even some who simply admired him as an athlete and a student came Monday night, in the middle of Christmas break, to pay their respects.

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At times, the line of people stretched from the funeral bier halfway around the Pointers’ gym, through the school vestibule, out the two sets of double doors and down the sidewalk outside.

People milled quietly in the gym, they sat in the cafeteria and watched a slide show of photographs of Corey.

The photographs arranged on easels and tables on the end of the gym opposite Corey’s casket showed a kaleidoscope of expressions of Corey as a child, goofing off with his brothers, sitting behind the wheel of a car and playing basketball. Like the long line of people who came to say goodbye and the assortment of photographs, the memories of Corey were numerous and poignant. Taylor had made a lasting impression during his almost 19 years. And it was a positive one.

“He had a wonderful personality,” his cousin, Steve Barker, Jr., said.

Andrew Davis and Zach Barrett attended school with Corey. They remember him as a good-hearted guy who made friends with everyone, regardless of who they were.

“He wanted everybody to love everybody,” his mom, Deborah Taylor, said. And so that phrase was printed on the memorials that guests took when they signed the registry: Everybody love everybody.

Mom recalled she didn’t have to employ much arm twisting to get her son to help out when someone needed a hand.

“He would help anybody,” she said.

Corey had graduated from South Point in May. He was a freshman at University of Rio Grande. He played basketball and things were going well.

“He made all As and Bs,” Mom said with more than a touch of pride.

He was always there for his friends and his family,” his older brother, Derik said.

One photo showed four boys, all fairly close in age, hamming for the camera. A family portrait for the parents?

This one had personality. And humor. Mom explained that Derik was South Point’s class clown in 2000, Ryan in 2004, and Corey last year.

It’s up to 17-year-old Cody to carry on that tradition. Four boys whose laughter could fill up a room. Corey’s laughter, his playfulness, his liveliness, friends and family said Monday, will be painfully missing in the days and years to come.

“He liked to play little jokes on everyone,” his grandmother, Katherine Pettry said.

“He would do anything to get a laugh,” Ryan Taylor said of his younger brother.

And his popularity extended to his hours off the court,” friends and family said.

“He could work a room,” Steve Barker Jr., said. And Corey was not likely to forget the ladies.

“They sure liked him, I knew that,” Katherine Pettry said. The feeling, his brothers assured, was mutual. Even in grief they mused that Corey knew how to get attention.

Among the stories of Corey’s kindness and humor and willingness to help others were stories only brothers can tell, stories of a young man who played basketball outside in his bikini underwear, a young man who loved to flex his muscles and strut with his shirt off. Never cocky, always funny. Always fun to be around.

South Point principal John Maynard said Corey was “a fine example of a human being, well rounded, sometimes funny, a good looking young man. He made his family proud, he made his community proud. We’re going to miss him.”

Maynard said in the coming days he will challenge South Point students to live life as Corey lived it, with vitality, eager to be the best he could be.

“If all of them lived life like Roman,” Maynard’s voice trailed off briefly. “He was a great kid.”