December 1, 2024

My brother, Len, older by four years, mostly ignored me for the first sixteen years of my life. He was a popular, bright, athletic, blue-eyed blond, filled with mischief and frequently disobedient. He was a handful for my parents and he was my nemesis. One time, on the rare occasion he did homework, he pushed me off my carefully arranged homework site, and the commotion attracted my mother and punishment for him. To get even, he nicknamed me "little hippo".

Len died this past summer at age 96; our love and respect for each other grew each year as we aged.

Silent No Longer

I was born in 1932, in the midst of the Great Depression, a time of financial distress for my family and many Americans. The hard times gave rise to the name "silent generation" for those struggling to get by in the moribund economy. We moved into my maternal grandparents home, and I remember while growing up, my mother counting the money in her purse before we went out shopping; its significance lost on me as a child. I was a shy, chubby, freckle-faced redhead always happy to be with the adults and quietly listening to the conversation. In my long life, I've been a good listener and a good student; I have seen and learned and experienced so much that it is time for me to speak up and offer thoughts and opinions that might be of interest and help to others. I am silent no longer.