Tay Bacon- Lindsay
I don’t sit still...
Never really have.
I build things. Fix things. Live
outside more than I live in.
I like quiet. Real over pretty.
And I don’t have much
patience for anything that
doesn’t hold up.
I’ve lived enough life to know the
best things usually come from
getting it wrong first.
I don’t mind that part.
I’ve got 13 acres tucked into the Oregon
mountains. It’s a little wild, but I like
it that way.
Loyalty came to me through my fathers side of the family.
My father and my brothers lived it in a way I never forgot. I still carry that.
Somewhere along the way, I found my way back to tallow.
Back to my great-grandmother Sali. She was Choctaw. She made what people used. No extra. No show.
Just what worked. Making it now feels familiar. Like I’ve been here before.
I don’t make things to impress people. I make things that last.
And I don’t always announce what I’m working on. Things just show up when they’re ready.
You’ll see,
If you’re still here… you probably get it.
My father called me Girl. My granddaughter, Marlee gave me the name I love the most,
"My Tay."
The Name He Gave Me
His grin always gave him away.
Let me sum him up…holy hell. He was stupid-handsome, wild as a loose match, built for chaos and adventure, and carried a grin that could talk a sane woman into bad decisions.
He was born outside the lines and lived louder than the rules allowed. He moved through life like life was daring him back.
He raised a gang of wild boys, three of them, and then me, his only Girl. He drilled one rule into those boys- watch out for her. And, (insert a big sigh) they took that job serious.
I was the one he’d soften for [barely] - calling me “Girl” in that rough, warm way that said everything he didn’t know how to say out loud. And me, I called him dad.
Those boys, like most brothers, made it their full-time job to give me hell. Somewhere between their many shenanigans, they decided I was going to be renamed; their choice…
“The Warden, the Governor, and Miss Kitty."
But here's the truth: I was the one they'd step in front of trouble for every single time.
No hesitation, no questions, and usually with a grin on their faces.
Girl 820 came from them. From love, loyalty, and a grin that usually meant trouble was likley.
That same mix of chaos, protection, and outlaw humor is stamped into every jar we make.
No. 820
A number that showed up in a moment when life split clean between what
mattered and what didn't.
I don't need to explain it. It's mine.
It reminds me to keep the flame lit, cut the noise, and stay loyal to what's real.
Everything else can fall away.
820 is the pulse under this brand steady, unspoken, and always present.
.
The Bacon Boys
Three brothers. Plenty of grit. Loyality without question. Not much hesitation.
Donny Bacon 1960- 2002 | Michael Bacon 1961- 2018
|. Scott Bacon 1963- 2026
The Flame
Sali, she was my great grandmother. Choctaw by roots, mountain hands and working with instinct rather than instruction.
She rendered tallow by firelight, trusting the old ways. The flame, the roots, the knowing.
Nothing loud. Nothing heavy. Just a quiet reminder to keep things real, keep them simple and keep them close to the land.
Her presence in this brand is intentional.
