Being a little closer in age to me, 18 months, Brad was more of a playmate early in life. In fact, sometimes Mom would dress us alike. We would play games, explore, and discover things together. Still, he did not share my emotional tendencies, but was a little more feeling than Kent. He, unlike my other brother, was very social. Brad was a quick witted and outgoing kid. He made friends easily and was not as interested in introspective activities like drawing and car models. He was creative though, and picked up all sports easily. Brad and I really shared an interest in playing war with toy guns, thanks to a regular diet of World War Two movies and TV shows like Combat. Brad was always a little different than the other boys I’d meet up with. He had a certain something about him that I couldn’t quite grasp, that made him unique, but not in a bad way. It didn’t seem to bother him that he was not like the rest, and I learned from him that I could be confident in my uniqueness as well. One thing that Brad did was, if we were play fighting, he would bend over and rub his blond hair frantically and scream. We used to watch a lot of pro wrestlers then, and I wondered if he got it from them, or maybe he saw it on a Three Stooges short on TV. One of a kind.
I don’t remember either one of brothers to be protective of their stuff, they shared well. They did tend to tease me frequently. I rarely saw myself as being a victim though. I guess I thought it was my role as the youngest bro, and deep down inside at the time, I didn’t have their level of self-worth and confidence. Heck, I probably figured I would do the same if I were in their shoes.

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