On Thursday, November 8, 1979, Walter drove the four miles from Bully Hill to Taylor Wine to fork the stuff over. He was dressed in his bib-overalls and quilted vest. He rode a 750cc BMW motorcycle. There followed behind him a tractor pulling a Bully Hill truck with a manure spreader attached, and some 20 cars and vans full of Bully Hill employees and well-wishers. A large banner on the side of the truck proclaimed: "We love Bully Hill and America."
Walter had planned a rally in the town square in the middle of Hammondsport, but it was canceled for lack of a parade permit. Still, Bully Hill employees had enough time to pass out a few signs saying: "Give Walter a name," and "Choke on Coke." Walter and his entourage wandered around the Taylor complex for awhile because Walter claimed he had forgotten where the main office was. As Walter handed over the labels to waiting Taylor employees, some of his groupies went through a cheer by spelling out Walter's forbidden last name. When they were done, the cheerleader screamed, "What does it spell?" And the group screamed back, "Nothing!"
After the parade, Walter threw a party back at his winery. But Walter wasn't very happy. "Everybody was laughing and thought the parade was the greatest thing," he says, "but to me, it was one of the biggest pains I've ever experienced. I was very depressed. I mean here I was building a company on honesty and I couldn't tell people who I was. I didn't know if I was ever going to get out of this nightmare."
Sometime later, however, Walter found his own form of salvation. "I remembered when all those farmers demonstrated in Washington, they let loose a bunch of goats, and all the guards were running around after them. So I got a goat and it saved my life. That's when I decided to laugh at the whole thing, to laugh at life."
Walter christened his goat Guilt Free and keeps it in a pen at the winery for all to see. If was the inspiration for his famous statement: "They took my name and heritage, but they didn't get my goat."
Much of Walter's story has passed into history, or legend, but the goat lives on. In July 1981, Walter drove Guilt Free down to Taylor Wine as a symbolic act. Walter rode in an ancient Army ambulance bedecked with flags. He pulled the goat behind in a cart. When he got back to his winery, there were some 1,600 people spilling down the slope of Bully Hill. Walter's whimsical 101st birthday party "for lovers of the family" was in full swing. (Taylor Wine Co. was founded in 1880.) Most of the people had paid $12 a ticket to attend the festivities that included a country rock bank, sky divers, 1,600 pounds of barbecued beef, and a flood of Bully Hill wine. The bash ended at midnight with fireworks.
For the most part, Walter's party was a convincing demonstration of his folkhero status. Walter moved regally through the adoring crowd, conspicuous by his black shirt buttoned to the throat, and black pants. One couple rushed up to him and presented him with a framed collection of his own wine corks, which they had made especially for the occasion. Then a man cornered Walter while hollering over his shoulder to his wife, "Hey, Irene, here's Walter, he'll give you a kiss."
The next day, Walter decided to rev up his video player with a few cassettes of himself in action. The set crackled to life and there was Walter in an opening scene from Evening Magazine. He was strolling down the road in his denim bib-overalls occasionally trying to hitch a ride from passing cars, but mostly strumming a guitar and singing about laughter, and how he's just a happy winemaker. More images, some static, another Evening Magazine. Seems Walter's been done up three or four times. Here's a shot of Walter haranguing a grinning mob of vineyard visitors. "Just call me Walter S. Blank," he is saying. "Yes, I'm the owner of Bully Hill, but I can't tell you where I came from." Walter guffaws.
Now here's a long shot of Walter strolling up another road. There's snow on the ground. He's leading his goat behind him, and the voice over has Walter saying, "They've stolen my name and heritage, but they didn't get my goat." By this time, Walter's yowling with laughter.
The scene shifts and Walter's being interviewed in his office. He's twirling a glass of wine between his fingers and talking calmly about the ebb and flow of his life. Then, unexpectedly, he blurts out, "I wish my father were still here. I miss him."
On screen, it's obvious that he's about to cry. There, in his living room, Walter sits up on the couch. His face is grave. He stares intently at the lingering image, or maybe past it.
"Sometimes," Walter says, "I get very depressed because the courts still won't let me use my heritage. I mean it's the worst form of being a hostage. But then I remember that while I'm alive, Coca-Cola's a hostage, too. I mean what if Coke gets tired of the wine business somehow and they decide to sell Taylor Wine? Then somebody comes along who wants to buy it and they ask Coke, 'Does the company have any liabilities?' And then Coke says, 'Well, there's this guy Walter Taylor...' Can't you just see it? I'm a clouded issue." Then, Walter guffaws once more and goes to bed
