Bill and Me

My brother Bill is eighteen months younger than I am, and we are extremely close.

My family tells the story of us going out together one day and sometime later he returns alone. When they ask, “Where is Bob?” he replies “He's down the street. ”What is he doing?” “He's fighting.” Bill replies. They later find out that Bill had started the fight, and I was taking up for him.

Another time Bill took Mom's white Pontiac Bonneville convertible and had cutouts installed right before the muffler (with caps on them). Take off the caps and that car had a beautiful roar. That went fine until one day Dad took it to Friebert's Garage and they found the cutouts. I thinks we all had a good laugh over that.

When I was a freshman at Ohio State I sent Bill the money to buy a Honda motorcycle. He bought it, but before I got home he took it out for a test drive. The first time out he drove off a bridge and the engine filled up with mud. When I got home I saw it in pieces in his friend's garage. I never got to ride it.

Life was always exciting with Bill around..