My brother, Don, was always very good to me.  He could fly off the handle at the slightest provocation, but he never did with me.  He was very good to me.  He was protective of me.  Johnny Richards and an older boy were chasing JoAnn Lewis and me on our bikes.  They got us off our bikes and twisted our arms behind us, and Don came along and scared them to death.  He told them they were never to touch me or he'd beat them up.  They got out of there and were never a problem for me again.

He was four years older than me, but he always let me go with him and his friends.  He'd call out, “We're going over to the mill yard.  Do you want to go?”

I can remember him pumping me around on his bike before I was able to ride one myself.

I remember that he'd gotten a new rocket.  He wanted me to play with him.  It got really old, and I went in the house, and he wanted Mom to make me come back out and play with him.  He always wanted to play the same things with his cars and that rocket.  I was tired and lost interest.

Even when Don was older he'd take me for rides.

i remember bathing with him.  We had a tub with a long, slanted back.  He'd push me up by my feet, and I'd slide down.  When Mom came in, there was water everywhere.