Baby Ben
Ben’s first communion—always a head above the rest
One random day I was in my backyard and I heard the people in the house behind us swimming. They were having a blast. Soon I thought, wait a second, that sounds like Ben and Meg. So I started shouting Ben’s name over and over. At first they couldn’t hear me because they were so loud and having so much fun. Eventually they heard my voice and got quiet. You could hear them ask each other if they heard someone. I remember hearing Ben tell his siblings that it sounded like me. Next thing you know, Ben and I are just yelling back and forth in full conversation. The entire block could hear us. He explained they were renting that house while they renovated their kitchen. What incredible luck for two kid best friends and what terrible luck for our poor parents. My dad built a little door in the fence so we could squeeze through and hang out whenever we wanted. I remember Ben came through the fence the next day with his Nintendo 64 (might’ve been a GameCube) and we played video games for hours. He also explained how we had to watch Austin Powers because he watched one of them and said it was hilarious. We went to ask my parents which, of course, that request was shot down. No surprise Ben was an expert on funny movies at a young age.
-Chris Smutny
Ben and childhood friend Chris Smutny
One time at my house he told my mom that she makes the best peanut butter sandwiches. I remember looking at him confused. I was like Ben it’s literally just bread and peanut butter. He proceeded to explain how important the peanut butter ratio was. To this day I can’t eat peanut butter without thinking about it.
-Chris Smutny
The early days of Ben’s basketball career
Ben with his uncle Larry
I believe it was the 7th grade at Holy Spirit, and Ben was very kind to do a comedy sketch with me for the school-wide talent show that year. This was something I remember Ben initially being reluctant to do, but with him being such a great friend and his genuine care for others, he made this a priority and agreed to do this with me. Ben was easily the funniest and wittiest person in the entire school, so it was easy enough of a task to make people laugh with him on stage. He had a hilarious Charles Barkley impersonation and it always made everyone in the room laugh. I decided to impersonate John McCain, and we planned on doing a talk-show sketch where Ben/Charles Barkley would be the host and interview and poke fun at me/John McCain, and it was truly hysterical. I definitely think we got the most laughs and cheers the entire night, all thanks to Ben and how naturally funny he was. I particularly remember all of our teachers sitting in the front row and how they had tears in their eyes because they were laughing so much. But what was most significant about this memory with Ben is how much he had supported me and encouraged me throughout that evening. I remember being extremely nervous about getting up on stage, and Ben was totally calm and was eager to make me laugh, give me words of encouragement, and make sure that I was going to be okay. I think that speaks to the very high level of character he possessed and how much he loved people. Ben was such an authentic person and naturally loved others so well, and the talent show we did together is only one small example of what a great person and friend he was to me and all those he interacted with.
-Sam Schornack
Ben’s 8th grade Yosemite trip
One of my favorite childhood memories of Ben is playing Land Park Little League Baseball together. Besides the comradery we shared on the field, my closest time with him was often late after games. My dad and I would often drive Ben home after a weeknight game, and although it might have ended at 6:30 pm, we never left Dooley Field before 7:30 pm. Ben would always shyly ask my dad, "Mr. Ramirez, do you mind if we stay a bit longer until the snack shack closes?" to which he might respond, "Sure Ben, why?" His next remark proved he was a true genius from an early age: "Well, they never sell all the hamburgers and hotdogs so if we wait till they close, we can get as many as we want for free!"
Needless to say, Ben and I always closed the Snack Shack down and we would enjoy our free meal (after the free one we got for playing) in the backseat of my dad's car.
I cherish those joyous moments I had with Ben, and I'm sure almost every person that came to know him had a unique yet similar experience which still brings a smile to their face when they think back on it.
-Andres Ramirez
Ben at a family wedding
Ben and lifelong friend, Hayden Jones
When I was 5 years old, Ben Taylor was 6. He grew up two doors down and his was the first house I was allowed to walk to on my own. I'd put on my swim trunks, walk shirtless and barefoot to the corner his house was on and wait for him to meet me. He'd saunter out of his front door in a similar outfit and make his way to the sidewalk with those slow, intentional steps he took even when we were young. Heading back to my house, we'd walk the runway of freshly mowed lawn and entered the pool yard gate with grass clippings clinging to our feet. We'd play in the pool under the early-afternoon summer sun with that dry heat I've only ever known in Sacramento. He'd show me how big of a splash he could make with his cannonball and I'd watch in awe as the water droplets from his pool entry leaped all the way to the flower beds while my much smaller and weaker splash barely made it over the edges of the poolside. We'd spend a while waiting for the sloshing water to grow still and the watermarks on the patio to dry— even as a kid, he always had an experimental mind and I remember how insistent he was that he would not jump unless the conditions were perfect— and Ben would walk back to the chalk line exactly 12ft from the rim of the pool, take a three-point-stance and stare down the calm water like an offensive lineman about to make the tackle of his career. He waited for my signal. I scooted a wire chair to the edge of the pool and stood atop it, my trunks still dripping onto the hot patio below. I squinted towards his target: the fence on the far side of the pool (the furthest he had reached before was the edge of the flower bed a few feet before the edge of the fence). It was an impressive if not impossible distance, but we were young and had something to prove. I turned back to face him in his starting position with his red trunks dripping chlorinated water onto the pavement between his planted feet. Ben could do it. 'READY..' I screamed from my perch beside the pool. He adjusted his fingers in his lineman position and hoisted his hips a little higher. I didn't (and despite his best efforts, I still don't) know a single thing about football and was impressed by how athletic he looked. I yelled out 'SET...' and with a grunt, he lifted off his heels until he was up on the balls of his bare feet. 'GO!' And he started barreling straight-faced and bare-chested towards the pool with all the energy and un-coordination of a 6 year old who had just had his third growth spurt in three months. His eyes were hyper-focused on his target as he pushed off with his foot from the hot pool deck— this was a kid on a mission and by God he was going to see it through.
I don't remember the splash or if he made it all the way to the fence. But I remember the grass clippings floating around his head as he bobbed to the surface with a massive smile forcing his eyes to squint even more than usual. From my perch atop the chair, I giggled at how quickly his expression had changed from determination and raw grit back to the freckled squinty smile he never grew out of. I remember looking down and thinking how cool it was to have a friend like Ben Taylor.
A few weeks ago, someone at work asked me about my earliest childhood memory and that's the story I told. I probably have earlier ones, but they're blurry and not as crisp as the images of Ben floating in that pool and thinking about how cool he is. Almost 20 years later and I still think the same thing:
How COOL is it that Ben Taylor chose me as a friend?
-Thomas Ferguson
Ben with childhood friend Dom Sestito in Lake Tahoe
Some of my first memories of Ben were from our times playing baseball at Land Park Little League. We were always the kids running to the snack shack to redeem our tickets to get chili cheese fries or whatever we were craving after the game. We weren’t always on the same team, but we became really close one summer that we played all-stars together. One practice that summer I forgot my bat, and since Ben and I were some of the taller kids on the team, he let me borrow his. He whipped out this beautiful yellow and black metal bat that felt like the perfect weight and length for kids our size. I had such a good practice that I asked Ben if I could continue to share his bat if I brought him a bag of sunflower seeds to every practice and game. Making a joke about how much he loved sunflower seeds, Ben of course agreed, though I know he would’ve shared even without the added incentive. We became even closer from this and if I remember correctly, both hit pretty well that summer. But one day I showed up to practice and Ben seemed a little off. He didn’t say hi to me and wouldn’t even look at me. Finally after a while I went up and asked him what was wrong. He seemed pretty upset so I really just wanted to make sure everything was OK. Begrudgingly, he finally broke the news that he forgot his bat at home so we couldn’t practice with it that day. I started laughing hysterically because I couldn’t believe he was so worked up about a bat. And then it hit me, he didn’t care at all that he couldn’t swing his bat that day. All he cared about was that he felt like he let his friend down. It wasn’t an important game or anything like that, it was just practice; and still, Ben was disappointed in himself for not being able to share his bat with his buddy. But that was just who Ben was as a friend and a person. He cared more about everyone else and their happiness, that he would always put others’ well-being before his own.
-Jackson Long
