Photo by Phyllis Stokes
By Bill Stokes
Kickass, the doorstop dog, joins the keeper in noting that the keeper’s “little” brother Orville, having just turned 89 years old, is no longer enforcing the requirement that the keeper salute him and call him “sir” as dictated by military custom between officers and non-coms.
In truth, Orv was never overly demanding about protocol, and also was never vocal about some of the things his older brother did to try to put meaning into his “little” brother life, never mind that they often went awry to the chagrin of their sister Norma who, having been born between them, had the good sense to usually rise above the fray.
Orv was, for example, not seriously injured as a drafted test pilot in the spectacular crash of a motorized coaster wagon of the keeper’s design, nor did he suffer permanent frostbite damage from long periods of forced assistance as the keeper cranked futilely all one long winter on a Model T Ford while Orv sat freezing and ready to advance the spark lever should there be as much as one cylinder pop.
There was other—many, brotherly occurrences between the Colonel and the Sergeant that produced memories the keeper now recalls for Phyllis, who being a patient “General” tolerates the telling and retelling.
As “little” brothers go, Orv, was a keeper, which his advanced age attests to. The keeper sends him the following personal message: “Orv, let’s draft sister Norma as witness and do it all again!”
Photo by Bill Stokes