Al Gunny Taylor

Al, or "Gunny" as so many people came to know him by, was a force to be reckoned with. Man's man, former marine, Vietnam vet, grandbaby softie--there wasn't anything he couldn't do, build, hunt or fix--whether that was the beautiful home he built with Sheila, vehicles, quads,...or the RV-7 that he spent 15 years working on from the ground up. His daughter always joked that if the zombie apocolypse happened, she and the girls would head straight for Gunny--because it would always be the safest place to be. And safe he was...a secure and stalwart figure who was always there to lend a hand, advice, or a sincere belly laugh to anyone he cared for--from neighbors and friends to the love of his life (Sheila) and a little 3-year-old ragamuffin he met and took into his heart nearly 40 years ago. You knew Al loved you if he gave you a hard time. And boy, did he give a lot of us a hard time! He sure kept us all on our toes. And while he may not have gotten the opportunity to fly his plane, visit the Wall, help Zoeli get her first kill or embark on the next series of trips with Sheila--his life was amazingly full of adventure and accomplishment: working his grandfather's farm in Nebraska, coming-of-age in the landscape of war, hunting camps in Durango, three wheeler trips to Glamis and Puerto Penasco, learning to fly, starting not one, but two plane builds, Rv'ing through Alaska and Montana, ridiing his Harley near and far, raising a daughter, loving two adorable grandbabies...and building an amazing team with his wife, Sheila. He was taken too soon--and yet, there wouldn't have ever been enough time anyway. He made his mark on the world and those around him and now he has left to finally rest with his "brothers" and others we have lost along the way. And he's probably giving them all a hard time right this very minute. Al. Gunny...you are deeply respected loved and will be deeply missed. I know your grandfather must be incredibly proud of the man you were. Oorah.