n the beginning, he was "professor Taylor" to me at Columbia Theological Seminary. Next, he was "Doctor Taylor" when we both were on the staff of Central Presbyterian Church of Atlanta. Later, he was the "choir teacher" to our children at Columbia Presbyterian Church of Decatur. Finally, many years later, he was our neighbor as "Bert" on McKinnon Drive, Decatur. His active interest in the families on our short street had about it a pastoral concern of a genuine nature. During our frequent morning walks, he expressed his deep devotion for the Seminary and for the Presbyterian Church. His attitude was always open to and positive about the future of the Church. With both hesitation and curiosity, he responded to my encouragement that he get a computer. He met this new challenge with his usual willing-to-learn determination and soon was telling me of the many things he was able to read online and how he could correspond by email with his family and his many friends. "Bert" was both a public person of many talents and accomplishments and also a very private person whose inner life was sensed but rarely heard. His firm handshake and genuine greeting of inquiry willed be missed because he was a dear friend to me and to Doris and to our children. I like to imagine that now the orchestra of heaven has a new violinist as they play some stirring Bach.