My brother is adorable in the first row of the Lutheran Church choir he and were in when we were six, seven and eight. We wore little white cotton half length robes with large red crosses at the neck and down the front. I'm sure my mom sewed them for us.
Singing was my passion that age and what I remember are the robes and singing. I don't recall being aware of my brother on Sundays Now, my mother, that's a different story.
Seems my brother wanted more than anything to be a pilot even then; our father was in the Air Force. We'd been dropped at the base theater to see movies on Saturday for a couple of years and I'm sure that we'd seen the war time movies about the Air Force and planes in WWII.
Mom lived in terror that some Sunday in the middle of the quietest part of a really ritualized service, my hold up his hands and close one eye as if shooting a machine gun, and eh, eh, ehehehe would ring out and fill the sanctuary as he imagined shooting down an enemy plane. He never did and we moved again when Daddy was stationed at a base in the southern part of the state.
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