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Warrington McCarter Taylor born 4th July 1905.


Birth notice

Taylor to James and Louisa Taylor on July the 4th, a son


Warrington Mc Carter at 368 George Street. Both well.

This is the story about my Dad. Suzanne Taylor

My earliest memories of my Dad were sitting on his knee while he read stories before bed.
In the morning he was always up early having breakfast and then riding on his bike to the Train Station at Wingatui and catching the train into town to work.

We lived in a 3 acre life style block on the corner of Wingatui and Factory road.

My Dad was always busy we had 3 cows ,lots of hens who roamed where ever they wanted to and a cat called “Toby” to whom we all loved.

We had a hugh vege garden to which both Mum and Dad were always busy in. I have vivid memories of my Father’s large strong body and hands wielding a huge pitch fork bringing compost into the garden and turning it over so effortlessly. We had everything in that garden that you could ever think of.

He built Brian a tree hut high in a hugh tree which over looked one of the paddocks.

Brian also had a play shed with a steering wheel in it.

If he wasn’t busy in the garden, milking cows or at work he would always be mucking around with machinery.

I remember going with Dad almost every Saturday morning to the Garage in Mosgiel while he worked on a motor, or some part of a car. He would ask the mechanic about something he wasn’t sure of and then go and work on it himself.

Sometimes he would take me into the pub on the other corner to get a well earned beer and then we would go home.

Also on a Saturday afternoon he would visit the local Presbyterian Minister in his Manse and they would discuss in length matters pertaining to the Bible and Christianity.

I remember Brian and I going to Sunday School but Mum and Dad were never there.

When I was 4 years old I remember Dad hiring the services of a Draught horse and rider to help with harvesting the hay. It was a long hot day and all the men worked really hard to cut and bale the hay but my most vivid memory was Dad’s huge strong body with the pitch fork all day tirelessly working to get the job done. Mum I think actually making scones for the men working. There may have been a beer at the end of the day too if I remember.


Previous to the Hay making day Brian and I would run and hide in the hay growing and make hiding places even although we were told not to flatten the growing hay.

Often too Dad had to go looking for Duncan our Uncle who would sometimes go for a walk and not come back. We usually found him some where near 3 mile hill but one time he got as far as Wakari which was a long walk.

Renovations were also a big thing in our family life and Dad pulled the whole front of the house out and modernised it to the 50’s look. I have photos of this.

At night I could hear him in the Lounge playing our Player Piano and I would drift off to sleep listening to some piece of Classical music.

In one of our cars that we owned I found a pipe one day and I asked him what it was for. He told me that he was trying to learn how to smoke but couldn’t quite get the hang of it cause it made him cough. Good job he didn’t eh.

In the School holiday’s Brian and I would catch the train into town and go and visit Dad at work. He would buy us a pie for lunch which was a real treat and we would sit in Miss Tate’s room and have lunch. That is where I met George Bell a great friend of my Father’s and they would play the Cello together and that was quite exciting too. Dad also had and played a Recorder he had a big one at work and a smaller one at home. Mum said he wasn’t very good at it but at work there was no criticism.

I only saw my Father cry once when I was a child and that was after a phone call telling him that his Father had died. We all stood together in a circle and had a big hug while Dad cried.

Dad often went away on Business trips to Wellington and he would visit his Father who lived there with his Third wife.
 
Every time Dad came home he would bring us a present and I came to wait impatiently for him to open his suitcase up to see what his gift was going to be .He bought me lots of dolls because he knew I loved them and I think even when I was 12 all I wanted for my Birthday was a doll.