Brothers Close as the Nearest Armpit

Private John G. Wilson BCT graduation 1971

9-24-2021

Brothers Close as the Nearest Armpit

One day while at brother Jered’s place in Ola, Idaho visiting with the folks we were telling old war stories about our time together as kids. I don’t remember the exact path of our dribbling conversation but I said something to Jess and Jered about us being angels when we were young. From her adjoining bedroom Mom hollered out “YOU WERE NOT ANGELS”. We all laughed and I said something like Maw it’s my story and I’m sticking with it. We all laughed again.

Those were the days and before long they were gone, the good old days as well as Mom and Dad who’ve passed on to that heavenly home. I know that angels carried them home barely 3 years apart but I wonder if brother John was grinning ear to ear as they joined him.

Today would have been John’s 69th birthday but he died in 1997 and although he’s gone, he’s not forgotten. I’m reminded of when John lost his first child to what was called sudden infant death syndrome. It broke him and their marriage so John went off and joined the Army. Hoorah!

When he graduated from basic in California we drove down to Fort Ord, which happened to be one of my old stomping grounds. I had gotten discharged and thought it would be nice to kind of drive around and show John and my wife and daughter (born just days after John’s daughter) some of the places we conducted our truck driver training.

Naturally we were sort of in an area that was off limits to civilians when we got pulled over by a military police officer. After listening to my reasoning he had us turn around and get back to the main garrison. John got a kick out of me getting pulled over. Soon our visiting time was over and he had to pack for his next assignment to Advanced Individual Training somewhere back east, maybe Fort Benning, Georgia. I don’t know why my mind remembered this trip, but hey it’s John’s birthday and it’s one of many memories to share.

Back when we were kids we’d stick together, usually in a brotherly quarrel that ended up in a huge dogpile in the dirt road, front yard or wherever we ended up. The way I remember it Jered would pick on John, Jess would get involved and I, being the oldest, would have to be the peacekeeper and jump on top of the dogpile (My story remember). Next month it will be Jered’s birthday and maybe another story….. (Tale from the past) It’s tough being the oldest sibling and a lefty at that, but hey somebody’s got to do it. Did I mention that I was the only red headed sibling? (I should have done one of these stories (tales) for Jess a few months ago for his birthday, but alas next time bro! – I am the Real Truckmaster!

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