My Big Brother (October 28, 2005)

Michael and his partner, George Stallings

     My older brother,  Michael, was 18 months my senior, and was literally my “big” brother.  At age  5 he was a foot taller than any of his classmates.  I remember Mom and Dad telling him, “You’re much bigger than any of the other kids, so you must never try to hurt anyone.”   Fortunately, he had a very gentle disposition. 
 

       Michael literally would not hurt a fly. After college, he moved into an apartment in San Francisco that was overrun with cockroaches.   I remember him saying,  “They are fine.  They cause me no harm, and I won’t harm them.”  I had followed my brother to college.  I married a classmate from USF, and we lived in San Francisco, too. We would often visit Michael.   I still remember watching those cockroaches crawling along the molding in the living room, while I sat on the sofa.  A couple of years later, while preparing to move into a new apartment, he stored his furniture in our San Francisco basement.  Needless to say, the cockroaches crawled out of that sofa and made a new home at our house.  We were not so tolerant as Michael; we called the exterminator right away.

 

     Growing up, I don’t remember my brother ever saying a harsh word to me; nor did he ever lay a hand on me in anger. When we were in early elementary school, I remember once, he looked angry and he came walking toward me. I probably had been “bugging”  him about something.  Even though I knew our folks had told him never to hit anyone, I panicked.  I picked up my steel baton and hit him over the head.  What a thud! That baton was made out of a solid steel bar one inch around, and had solid hard rubber ends.  I’m sure Mom and Dad were both grateful I hadn’t knocked him out.  He had a lump on his head the size of a baseball.  Even then, he didn’t strike back.   He had been told not to hit and he didn’t.

      It was wonderful having a big brother to watch over me. Whenever I went out on a first date, I always introduced my gentleman-caller to Michael.  If they had ever considered “messing” with me, after meeting him, the thought vanished. Had they realized how gentle he was, they wouldn’t have needed to worry about his size. But for those that did not know him, he looked like he would prevail in any confrontation.

     I remember our teachers in Junior High and High School saying, “ It’s wonderful how you two get along.”   Other brothers and sisters seemed to fight often.  After that one confrontation in early childhood,  I knew I never had a reason to fight with Michael.  He was always supportive and kind.  No need to fight a brother like that!

     My big brother was one of the gentlest, caring people I have ever known.  How lucky I was to be his little sister.