Younger brothers and memories...Well, that didn't take long!
My younger brother has entirely different memories of the days when all three brothers were delivering newspapers around the Charleston peninsula. He says he NEVER asked us to substitute for him to carry papers on his route. Never.
Our dad was a younger brother. He's the shorter one on the left in this priceless old framed photo. Oddly enough, I never saw this till after he died and I was cleaning out a huge storage area. Cute outfit, dad. I really like that belt.
Mom tells a story that shortly after they met, my dad was smoking a cigarette and kept flicking the ashes into his shirt pocket. She finally asked him to stop doing that..it could burn the shirt. He replied "so what, it's my brother's shirt."
At least I never did that to my brother.
There was the time he was seen by a cousin leaving the house with a salt shaker and a small cardboard box. She inquired and he explained that I had told him if he sprinkled salt on a bird's tail, it couldn't fly away.
He was on the hunt for a pigeon.