15 Horrible Months

In 1978, an ex-convict hired two hit men to kill my husband, our year-old son, Tyrone, and me.

The man knew that my husband, who was a Criminal Investigator for the Treasury Department, had collected enough evidence to send him to prison for tax fraud. He assumed that if he killed Ray, there would be no one left to testify against him. So he asked a drug addict to burn down our house with the entire family inside. Then, to guarantee our deaths, he contracted with an assassin from California to shoot us. Both men seemed eager to do the job.

I know about it because I listened to a tape recording of that meeting during the three-day trial that followed the arrest of the ex-convict. I still remember the prosecutor’s final words to the jury, “Must I bring you the charred bodies of Ray Taylor, his wife and their young son in order for you to bring in a guilty verdict?”

The jury convicted the ex-convict.

It was a horrible time, but only one of a number of nightmarish events that started four months earlier and continued for a total of fifteen months.

September 1, 1978, Tyrone’s first birthday

When we arrived home from a week of visiting my parents in Michigan, we found a letter from the doctor saying I had cancer.

That same day, we discovered that the newspaper business we had purchased the day before leaving on vacation was not being run efficiently by the manager. Even though I had given up my teaching career to become a stay-at-home mom, I would have to run the office.

That evening, we hosted a family birthday party for Ty.

Second week in September

Though doctors guaranteed that a hysterectomy would completely cure my cancer, I chose a riskier procedure because I desperately wanted more children.

Ray and I discovered that newspaper carriers don’t always show up for work. The business manager often awakened us at three in the morning to deliver newspapers before Ray left for his day job.

I began working at the office every day. I took my baby in with me because I couldn’t bear to leave him.

Late September

We needed a larger car to accommodate all the papers we delivered so many mornings, so we sold our Datsun and bought a station wagon.

Doctors told me that scarring from the cancer procedure had rendered me unable to have another child.

Upset and distracted by that news, I wrecked the new car.

November 6, 1978

Because I was sick from the cancer treatments, we missed church that Sunday morning. Because there were three Ray Taylors in the phone book, and the ex-con didn’t want to pay for a hit on the wrong Taylor family, first a hit man, then the ex-convict called our house. Because of something the hit man thought he heard on the phone, but something he did not actually hear, because God protected us, our lives were eventually saved. (Yes, I know this is confusing. To save space, I’m leaving many important details out of this. If you ever want to hear the whole story, you’ll have to invite me to speak at your church.)

After the phone calls, Ray yanked Tyrone up from his nap while I dumped all his belongings into a suitcase. Without bothering to dress him, we wrapped him in a blanket and drove to Ray’s parents’ home.

We left Ty with his grandparents for safekeeping, wondering if we’d ever see him again, and drove to Ray’s workplace to pick up a gun.

We made it safely through the most terror-filled night of my life. The neighbor’s dog, which had never made a sound before, barked most of the night. There was little doubt that someone who wished us harm lurked on our wooded acre.

November 7, 1978

Without drying my hair, and with only the clothes on my back, I left my beautiful new home. Forever.

Five minutes after I arrived at the office, I received a call telling me to leave immediately to meet Ray at his parents’ home.

A few hours later, surrounded by armed agents, Ray drove up to the house where Ty and I waited. Three armed agents protected us through the night.

November 8, 1978

The next morning agents took us into hiding, switching cars as we traveled so no one could follow us.

When friends or family tried to call our home, agents stationed there to protect it answered the phone. They refused to let anyone know where we were.

We stayed in hiding for several days – some of the most miserable of my life. We didn’t even have a change of clothes.

Mid to late November

After hiding a body wire on one of the hit men to record a meeting with the ex-con, police and special agents arrested the ex-con.

Agents rented an apartment for us on the opposite edge of town, then moved some of our belongings to the apartment.

Neither of the hit-men were arrested.

Since everyone agreed we could never safely live in our home again, agents listed it with a real estate company.

In another move to keep the hit men from locating me, I was directed to exchange cars with another agent’s wife.

Fourteen-month-old Tyrone toddled into our apartment bathroom, closed the door, and pulled open drawers blocking the door. When I couldn’t coax him out, firemen with lights flashing rescued him.

December

I began experiencing back pain so severe I couldn’t sleep. Over the next three weeks, I made three trips to three different doctors. Each me that my pain was imagined.

In desperation, dragging a fussy Tyrone with me, I visited a chiropractor. In his office bathroom, before the appointment, I had a miscarriage.

Soon after tests at the emergency room confirmed the miscarriage, the back pain stopped.

While our house stood empty, we located a farm to purchase. The farm’s owners agreed to let us move in and rent the house until financing could go through.

January

An ice storm struck the day we moved into the new house.

We lost electricity for three days. We lost heat and hot water. We had no way to cook. Our icy uphill driveway prevented us from leaving the house. All our belongings remained piled in the living room.

The trial began on the second day of the ice storm.

The judge refused to cancel the trial, so an agent with a four-wheeled vehicle picked us up and drove us to court to testify.

During the trial, an empty rental house we owned burned to the ground. I heard about it on the morning radio news while Ray showered. No one ever discovered the cause.

Also during the trial, some one bludgeoned to death the ex-convict’s best friend – the man the ex-convict expected to testify against him in court. No one ever proved who killed him, though police and agents are certain they know.

The ex-convict was convicted and sent to prison.

February

We bought three sheep from one of my former students.

March

We pulled up the living room carpet that stank of goat urine. (The former owners kept sick goats in the house while nursing them back to health.)

Ray felt it unwise to install new carpet until the smell faded and we actually owned the property, so for months I scrubbed the cork floors with strong cleaner every day.

Morning sickness signaled a new pregnancy. Joy!

April

While running across the dilapidated deck of our new home, Tyrone fell spread-eagle. A long sliver of splintered wood entered the soft spot between two of his fingers and traveled all the way to the base of his palm.

At the hospital, doctors informed us that Ty also had a mild case of chicken pox. They insisted we wait outside the hospital in the cold, wearing wet clothes. Then they lost Ty’s x-rays for several hours.

Doctors informed Jeannie and Ray that their son would likely require a zigzagging surgery down his palm. It would remove any remaining wood, but could leave him with a withered hand.

Several weeks after the accident, doctors pronounced their son’s hand fine – for the time being. They did not do surgery. However, they warned there may still be some wood in the hand and problems could show up in the future. Ty has had no further problems with his hand.

May

During those first months of my pregnancy, with the help of both our fathers, we tore down the house that fire had gutted during the trial. We took turns wielding sledgehammers and saws, then pushing heavily loaded wheelbarrows over a narrow cat walk to empty rubble into a dumpster on the street below the house.

Six months after we left it, the old house sold.

August

Eight months after we first applied for a loan, financing for the new house finally came through. To this day, it holds the record for taking longer to approve than any other loan in the history of the loan-company.

We installed new peach carpet.

September 1, 1979, Tyrone’s second birthday

After moving a couch by myself in preparation for Ty’s birthday party, I began to spot.

A trip to the doctor revealed a placenta previa pregnancy so severe doctors feared it could abrupt at any time. The doctors informed me than any movement, even turning over in bed, risked my life and my baby’s life. It was not safe for me to stay home alone. It was not even safe for me to care for my own son.

September 3

We abandoned our home for the second time and moved in with Ray’s parents so that Ray’s mother could care for Ty and me.

October

While the new house stood empty, dogs slaughtered our three sheep.

Ray sued the dog’s owners in small claims court for the price of the sheep.

December 7, 1979

A routine visit to the doctor’s office brought on early labor. A healthy baby Tori entered the world via Caesarian Section a few hours later.

After a week in the hospital, I moved back home with my husband and two children.

Lots of miraculous details – including the way the Lord spared our lives several times, and how he used the circumstances to call me into a closer relationship with him – are missing from this brief outline. Though I would be the first to tell you it was a terrible fifteen months, I remain completely awed by the experience. Those months left me with a deep sense of gratitude that remains to this day.