Friday, October 29, 2021
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While growing up, my nephew Dickey often lived not far from me. Although I'm the youngest of 9 kids, I always thought of Dickey as more of a little brother than a nephew (he was only 3 years younger than me). Between him, his sister Sheila, and myself, we kicked up some dust and ruffled a few feathers around Augusta, Gardiner, Farmingdale, Hallowell, Richmond, and Randolph, Maine. I have many fond memories of he and I playing "leapfrog" over my mother's currant bushes, until she would come out and chase us off , and we would go get into some other mischief. I also remember a time when I was about 11 and he was 8. He lived at the end of the same street that I did, and we used to ride the same bus home from school. One afternoon, I decided (without telling anyone) to just get off the bus and visit with him. He and I didn't think anything about it, although my mother and several of my older sisters were panicked when I didn't arrive home at my usual time that afternoon. Although we didn't often see each other in later years, he will always be my "little brother" and I really miss him.
