WRITE 2 THE HEART
Stories that are aimed "Write 2 the Heart"
February 6, 2002 Issue 020602
Cheryl Speir, Editor, moderator@write2theheart.com
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Help comes in unexpected forms at times. Paul was used to
receiving teasing and help from his brother Frank while growing
up; but it was the memories of the teasing that helped Paul face
an important White House briefing.
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Brother Frank
By: Paul Joseph Leadem
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My brother Frank was baptized Francis Leadem, and confirmed as
Francis Xavier Leadem, but he was known by many nicknames-as were
all of his seven brothers. Frank was “number four” and I was
“number five,” and when we were lined up for “company” and all
kinds of visitors, we took our numbered position in line. Since
Frank is closest to me in age, and we were both “middle children”
(psychologists have written books about this) we did many
childhood things together.
Frank and I, and a neighbor guy named Grover-who was seldom
called by that name for obvious reasons-were real buddies through
the turbulent teens. Since they were older, I learned a lot from
them, particularly about girls. No wonder I was shy. Grove and
Frank could drive cars, and by hanging out with them I got to
share in their “more advanced” dating world. One incident I
remember well was my first big “crush” on a girl I had met through
Frank and Grove and their many activities involving young women.
It took me weeks to get up enough nerve to ask her for a date, and
when I finally did so she informed me that she had a date with my
brother Frank! My crush was crushed. Whatever Frank had to make
him popular with most of the young women we both knew, I did not.
While I pondered things, Frank was full of mirth, vitality and joy
as a teenager. His irrepressible spirit sometimes got him in
trouble, particularly in high school.
Near the end of his senior year in high school, Frank and his
friends pulled off a stunt that nearly got him tossed out. In
those days you had to wear a jacket and tie to school, so Frank
wore the same jacket and tie his entire senior year and probably
junior year also. They staged a little ceremony at the flagpole
in front of the school. The U.S. flag was lowered with respect,
but in its place was raised Frank’s jacket, while everyone stood
at attention and saluted! The Principal did not see the humor in
this.
Life isn’t fair. Frank and Grove graduated from high school, but
did not go on to college. They had to “go to work” full time
while I remained a student and eventually went to college.
Fortunately for me, this meant that they had some money to spend
on good clothes and other things, which I took advantage of-Paul
the “freeloader” still owes them. I remember borrowing suits from
both of them for special dates and dress-up events. Then came the
Korean War and the draft caught up with them. They went into the
army, and I joined the ROTC in college. Frank was shipped
overseas, and I stayed home with all his clothes and other good
stuff. [As she did for three sons in WWII, my mother prayed Frank
home safely. When my older brothers talked about the family’s
military service, they had fun by saying, “Paul was never in the
service; he was an Air Force Officer.”]
When Frank came home from “the war,” he tried his hand at various
jobs and eventually got into the high-tech electronics field,
where he built a successful career. The worst thing Frank said to
me, ever, was when he was still trying to “find himself.” I had
just graduated from college, and he said to me, “Frank is the
dummy of the family.” How absurd! One time when I was working in
Washington, Frank phoned to say that he was staying at the Willard
Hotel on business. He invited Rose Marie and I to dinner, and we
were to meet outside the main ballroom of the Willard, where he
was attending a conference. We arrived early, and I decided to
look for him in the ballroom. He was easy to find. He was on the
main stage giving a lecture to leaders in the electronics field,
including many PhD's, on the latest developments spectral
analysis!
Frank was also smart enough to marry Frances Bafaro, a wonderful
woman with whom he would raise a great family. They have their
own story to tell.
One of my favorite egocentric stories involves Frank. My father’s
avocation was harness racing horses. When frank and I were
teenagers, he got us summer jobs working “on the circuit” with
racing stables. My father had taught us the basics of taking care
of the horses; however, Frank knew what he was doing, and I did
not, as usual. We were working with two different stables at the
Flemington Fair, where harness racing was featured in those days.
One morning my boss told me to harness up “Brutus Scott,” an apt
name for the biggest, meanest, high-strung horse in the stable.
(Earlier “Brutus” had kicked me so hard I thought I would never
walk again, but that’s another story.) I had no problem getting
him hooked up-very carefully. But then the boss told me to “give
him five miles” (track exercise). I had never driven a racehorse
before, let alone Brutus the difficult one! The boss assumed I
had trained horses with my father.
When frank spotted me driving Brutus out to the track, he yelled
“Highgear!” (my nickname), “do you know what you’re doing!” I was
afraid to stop Brutus at that point when he was full of energy, so
I just yelled back, “Foxy (my boss) told me to!” Frank
immediately dropped what he was supposed to be doing and ran to
the track. And there he remained, “watching over me” until I
finished. Then, sweating profusely, he led Brutus and I back to
the stable, where I breathed a sigh of relief. And went to the
toilet.
Many years later, when I was a relatively young career officer in
the CIA, I was selected to be a White House Staff Briefing
Officer. (This is the egocentric part of the story, but it does
involve Frank.). On my first trip to the White House to brief the
President’s staff (The CIA Director briefed the President, but we
had to be coordinated.), I had very mixed emotions. I was driven
in the Director’s limo, complete with tensor lamps in the back so
I could review my material, and a secure radiophone so that I
could be updated on late breaking developments. It made me feel
self-important. But I began to get very nervous as we approached
the White House. This was a test for me, and my self-confidence
was beginning to wane. When we turned onto Pennsylvania Avenue, I
noticed a man standing on the corner. He reminded me of Frank.
Then my imagination kicked in, and I saw Frank yelling at me,
“Highgear, do you know what you’re doing!” I began to laugh, and
the driver looked at me for an explanation. I told him I just
thought of something funny that I might use in the briefing. He
nodded. Actually I had thought of something amusing-Frank wasn’t
there, but he was helping me again, as he has always done. I
relaxed, and passed the test.
Paul J. Leadem
PLeadem @ msn.com
(You are encouraged to write to the authors to let them know what
you think of their story, just remember to remove the space before
and after the @ symbol. The space is placed in the address to
protect our writers from viruses.)
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Paul is an author and the manager for the Senior Writer's site in
the MSN communities. He has written "Foxy and the Horses", "The
Reunion" and “A Love Story”. You can read more about him on the
writer's profile page on our web site. His brother, Frank, is
currently battling cancer and would appreciate your prayers..
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What a great issue! You picked a great story this time! A
wonderful lesson here for the young or not so young, female and
male... This is a KEEPER! Alexandria Jordan, founder/manager The
Writer's Niche
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Cheryl's Corner
I expected to babysit the grandchildren when they came along,
never suspected I would be babysitting the grand dog. When Logan
and Mason spend the night, their puppy, Speckles, comes also.
She’s a cute little cur. Spoiled rotten! She thinks she should
come in and watch videos with the rest of the kids. About the
only thing she doesn’t share is Logan’s dill pickles.
Next weeks issue will come out early, we will be on the road to
Tim's graduation from bootcamp.
God bless
Cheryl
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Cheryl Speir
Write 2 the Heart
moderator@write2theheart.com
http://www.write2theheart.com
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