The times during which she mothered her four children, ignoring her physical debilitation of 1936, were not the best of times to be rearing young. The Great Depression of the early 1930's, the war hysteria of the late 30's, the World War of the early 40's.

Her oldest son was thirteen when she died; her second son was seven; her daughters were five and three. These were not adaptable ages of children to be losing a mother, or to be cast into the lonely and fearful chasm of an orphanage with prospects of permanent separation from one's siblings.

Much has been made in the past decade of the sensitivities of children, of healthy natal care, proper birthing, correct parenting, adequate child care; kids into drugs at age ten; promiscuity; rape at age nine; childbirth at age thirteen.

To say that Donna's four children had a traumatic and inadequate childhood is a total understatement. Each of the four came away from their experience with scars that would be there forever, caused by the times and the circumstances, and imbedded and ignored by the institutions, hardened by environment. Yet her four have probably handled their pain and suffering better than could ever be dealt with by kids four decades later.

* * *

* * *

Of her four children, Ron remembers her best, having been thirteen years old at the time of her death. He remembered much of her adult life with her children and their fathers, and provided the background information for many of the homes Donna made for her family, including the last one shared by her youngsters on Van Evera Road.

Ron was old enough when the county placed him and siblings Dallie Vernon and Patty and Jacqueline Corbin in the orphanage, old enough to have remembered many of his experiences the year or so he was there, and to have made at least four lifelong friendships of "inmates" in his department. Dallie always envied him that. But then, Ron's more extroverted than Dallie. Dallie had always been a loner.

After leaving Donna's alma mater, Allen Grade School, Ron attended Hower Vocational High School, then the best-known trade school in the Akron area. Hower was geared to those kids who wouldn't go on directly to college.

Ron studied machine shop practices at Hower. During those years he experimented with the things kids from the "wrong side of the tracks" did. He hung out with a neighborhood gang which called itself the "Dukes of South Akron." He played pool. And he worked part time for an open-air market.

In 1949 when he turned 17, the earliest he could be eligible, Ron wanted Grandma to sign a consent form for him to join the Marine Corps. She wisely resisted, and compromised by instead signing for him to join the Ohio National Guard. In June of 1950 the Korean "conflict' began, an action which saw many casualties of American servicemen from both the U.S. military regulars and National Guardsmen. So, on 1 August, 1949, Ron joined what would later become Howitzer Battery, 1st Squadron, 107th Armored Cavalry Regiment, Ohio National Guard. After 1954 they would meet every Monday night, two weeks summer camp. Over the years, he would earn a commission to Second Lieutenant, switch to the Army Reserves, and retire as Lieutenant Colonel after more than thirty years.

* * *

He met Patricia Louise Kipp, who was attending Akron South High School. Pat is the daughter of the late Frank Kipp and Esther LeCount of Akron, Ohio.

* * *

Frank Kipp, son Bob and d-in-l Harriet Kipp.

Frank Edward Kipp, son of Henry Kipp and Sarah Gallagher, was born 26 December, 1899, in Kent, Ohio.

* * *

Four generations: Josephine Hetzel, Esther Le Count-Kipp, Betty Kipp-Boone, and Cheryl Boone.

Esther F. LeCount, daughter of David LeCount and Josephine Hetzel of Belgium, was born 5 September, 1899. Frank and Esther were married before Father Joseph O'Keefe at Saint Mary's Roman Catholic Church on 27 June, 1918. Esther died 11 November, 1956, and was laid to rest in Holy Cross Cemetery in Akron. Frank died 2 October, 1989, and was interred at Holy Cross with Esther.

* * *

Ron courted Pat, and they were wed on 9 February, 1952, a leap year wedding. Got their picture in the Akron Beacon Journal, they did. They exchanged vows in a Roman Catholic ceremony at the same church where Pat's parents had been married, St. Mary's Church on Coburn Street in South Akron. Ron's family guests included Grandmother Florida Gay "Fay" Ramsey, and his brother, Dallie A. Vernon. Pat's guests included her brother Robert "Bob" Kipp and his wife Harriet and their daughter Linda; her sister Beatrice "Betty" Kipp-Boone and husband Kenna "Danny" Boone

* * *

Harriet was born 18 October, 1916 and died 31 March 1983. Bob was born 17 April, 1919 and died 13 May, 1991. Bob and Harriet are interred at Hillside Cemetery in Akron. Their daughter, Linda Kipp, was born 8 April, 1946. She m 1.) in June 1973 to Thom Doonan; there was no issue; m 2.) in November 1988 to David "Buddy" Seeley. Buddy died 9 December, 1990 of lung cancer, at age 49; they also had no issue.

* * *

Ken "Danny" and Betty Boone.

Betty was born 16 March, 1921 and died 15 September, 1989. Danny was born 15 November, 1909 in Gassaway, Braxton County, West Virginia, the same town that Ron's father, Osborne Bosley, was from. Danny died 19 November, 1989. He and Betty are both interred in Hillside Cemetery. Betty and Danny, their stage names, were draws in vaudeville where they had a song-and-dance/comedy routine before they settled down to a white picket fence. Danny built a calliope/merry-go-round in his backyard, which he operated on holidays for the amusement of neighborhood kids. Daughter Cheryl A. Boone was born 29 October, 1948. She m 1.) in January, 1968 to David Hileman; their daughter Melissa A. Hileman was born 21 August, 1968; m 2.) on 10 April, 1971 to Jerold J. Paglia. Jerry adopted his stepdaughter Melissa in 1972 when she assumed his surname Paglia. Cheryl gave birth to her second child, son Jason Alan Paglia born 2 July, 1974. Cheryl m 3.) 20 August, 1976 to Joseph A. Cormican. Joseph brought to the family his four children: Jeffrey Ellsworth Cormican- b 2 April, 1964; Timothy Arlen Cormican- b November 1965; Joni Michelle Cormican- b 23 August, 1967; Thomas Cormican- 9 July, 1970.

* * *

Ron had taken his trade school training at Goodyear Aircraft Corporation, was hired in May of 1951, and became a highly skilled tool and die maker. By 1953, Ron and Pat had a place at 911 Lane Street, between East Thornton Street and Campbell Avenue, not far from Summit Lake.

Baby daughter Patricia Lynn came along on 12 August, 1954, but the Bosleys' joy was tempered when they accepted guardianship of Ron's 15-year old truant brother, Dallie, who was no longer permitted by order of Juvenile Court to live under the guardianship of his grandmother. He was considered to be beyond her control. The Bosleys accepted responsibility as Dallie's guardians, moving first to Hazel Street, then to Carroll Street in east Akron, in order to have affordable extra room.

Their altruism was admirable, but then a naive and rambunctious youth of fifteen of our family's circumstances isn't much aware of anyone else's world. There was another brush with authority -- a misunderstanding really, but a stupid one on Dallie's part. Pat, who worked part time at a local hospital gift shop, was expecting another child, and Dallie was in Juvenile Hall again. Dallie was allowed to move back with his grandmother on a promise of good behavior.

Ron and Pat were living at 742 Amherst Street at the birth on 21 October, 1956, of their second daughter, Donna Esther, named after both her grandmothers. Donna was born on the birthday of her grandmother Donna.

The Amherst Street residence, just off East Thornton, was a neat half of a duplex, a little closer to the helpful comfort of Pat's parents, two of the most warm and loving in-laws a husband could want. The Kipps were a delightful family whose open arms had extended to make even brother Dallie one of the family.

Dallie went into the U.S. Air Force in April of 1957 and Ron and his family settled into the task of raising a family. It wasn't long before the couple found themselves thinking of becoming homeowners and in March, 1958 they were busy making a home of the house they bought at 1028 Hardesty Boulevard in West Hill, at one time an exclusive section of Akron.

It was some time in 1959 that Ron and Pat realized they knew a mutual friend of Ron's sister Jacqueline's adopted mother, Joanne Wooten. Through this friend, contact was made, and Jacquie came to stay with the Bosleys for a while, getting reacquainted, and enjoying a reunion with her brother.

Patty found herself expecting another child and on 1 January, 1961 gave Ron their only son, Ronald Francis, named after dad and grandpa. The infant succumbed a week later on January 8th. Jacquie had gone her own way, and Dallie was discharged from the Air Force in April, trying to get re-established in recessionary civilian Akron. By 1964, Dallie bought a house on nearby Dover Avenue. Not long after Ron and Pat sold their Hardesty Boulevard house and moved to their most recent home in suburban Ellet at 2840 Linwood Road, in March of 1963.

Ron has always been an avid outdoorsman, and when he wasn't hard at work in the machine shop or involved with his responsibilities as a Reservist, and when Pat could take time from being a mother, housewife, and homemaker, they fished and hunted. It wasn't long before they could afford comfortable camping equipment and they spent as much time as they could spare outdoors with friends.

* * *

Donna would surely have had a mother's pride in all her children, but Ron would best fit the mold of what mothers wish for their children, of what a grandmother would hope for her progeny. Ron's success in life was hard earned. He aspired to greater challenges and responsibilities off the machine shop floor as Supervisor in 1966, Department Foreman in 1972, and General Foreman in 1974. He was promoted to Manager of Operations for all products departments of Wheel and Brake Division in March of 1982.

As a Reservist, he worked many long hours, filling key slots in almost every area of military leadership. He successfully went on to Army Command College, became a skilled instructor and teacher. He earned a rating as an Air Observer, and went on to earn a Master's Degree from the U.S. Armed Forces National Security Institute.

If he worked hard, he also played hard. He became one of the most proficient anglers in the state, fishing out of many sports lakes in the northeast U.S. and in Canada. His enthusiasm for hunting was only slightly less keen than as a fisherman. He got as much enjoyment from being in the woods as from the hunt. His children enjoyed learning outdoors crafts almost as much as he enjoyed teaching them, and they joined him on many occasions in the woods and on the water.

* * *

Patty Lynn m 1.) on 24 August, 1974 to Timothy Aaron Robertson, son of Harry and Ilene Richards Robertson. They were married in St. Matthew's Roman Catholic Church at 2603 Benton, by the Reverend Ronald Turek. These two domestics gave Ron granddaughter Tara Lynn Robertson, born 6 July, 1976, and grandson Troy Aaron Robertson, born 8 April, 1981; Patty Lynn m 2.) Bruce Alan Brewer (see Errata).

* * *

Donna Esther married Thomas Bruce Beers, a welder and machinist, and son of Elmer Bruce and Mildred June Efaw Beers. They exchanged vows on 8 August, 1976, officiated by Reverend Holgen of Akron. Ron was a grandpa again with the birth of Raymond Bruce "Bub" Beers on 28 November, 1976, and Michael Beers on 31 July, 1978. The Bosleys are justly proud and doting of their grandchildren, who are also well-bred, delightful and charming grandnephews and grandnieces.

* * *

Ron retired painfully from the Reserves, giving up the reins with great reluctance after thirty-four years. He is highly regarded by his peers. His retirement from what became Goodyear Aerospace Corp., then Loral Group, was considerably less painful since the ex-Goodyear subsidiary had been sold by parent Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company to help defray the costs of averting a corporate takeover attempt. The new enterprise showed little promise of a secure future at best, and signs of a limited future for its retirees. At 56 years old, Ron took an early retirement as much to secure and protect his retirement benefits as for the earned rest. However, he continues to serve Goodyear as a Training Consultant and Analyst on request, serving as often as three times a year.

* * *

As great as my love for my older brother has always been, I can't say that I know him or ever knew him. He and I couldn't be more different. Ron and I are as far apart in personalities as was the 39-year separation which kept us apart from our sisters.

And, just as Dallie Davis shared a personality profile of his grandson and namesake, Ron shares the astrological nature of his maternal grandmother:

"The singleness of purpose of the Taurean, the stick-to-it-iveness, spring from one source; the need for security. Self-preservation, the first law that animates all nature to some degree, is the hub of the Taurean wheel of life. The Taurean curls up and dies within when security, either emotional or material, is denied.

Not likely to be grasping, and certainly the embodiment of the idealistic form of love, the Taurean may be quite unaware of their inner motives, for self analysis is rarely important to this sign. Instincts are powerful and generally right -- always right insofar as they serve the perhaps-unarticulated motives of the Taurean whom, while not selfish in the ordinary material sense, sees to it that nothing interferes with the instinctual urges for self-preservation and self-fulfillment. The Taurean will not interfere with you if you don't interfere with these essentials, but will fight like a bear at bay for the rights to these things. The easiest person to live with if you are willing to live with him and not against him.

Anyone who is going to get along with a Taurean must understand that cooperation doesn't mean doing things together; it means doing things peaceably, in a friendly manner, even if done separately. This kind of cooperation annoys people who are less self sufficient, until they learn that the heart of the Taurean comes home to roost only if you don't try to coerce it..." (Astrology for the Millions by Grant Lewi)

* * *

This identity may or may not represent Ron as an individual, but it is the Taurean instinct which he could have shared with our maternal grandmother, who raised us and instilled in us whatever values we each took with us into adulthood, and with whom Ron identifies his ideals. Grandma's opinion was hard to bend, and so is Ron's; her prejudices were by and large his prejudices. Just as Grandma was always center stage by circumstances, he has been by default. Certainly, his interest in his brother always hinged on whether his own interests were intrigued.

Ron's autobiographical self-portrait in his family treatise told me much about him. It says:

On January 26, 1946, our mother, Donna, passed away from a cerebral hemorrhage. I was 13 at the time, Dallie was 7, Patty was 5, and Jackie was 3 years of age. Elmer Corbin, our stepfather, disappeared. I have heard rumors that he has also passed away, some time in the 50's.

Our Grandmother Ramsey rented a larger place and took me out of the Home in August 1947. This experience, being in the Home, made me independent, self reliant, and confident. It taught me that if anyone were ever to do anything in this life for me, it would have to be me.

The following year, my Grandmother received in her care, my brother Dallie in her home. She could not take on the two girls because she had to work during the day and the two girls were too young to be left and she could not afford to take care of all of us and pay babysitters at the same time. It is beyond me how she kept her home and us two boys on $42 a week in 1947 and 1948. She tried to contact Elmer, the girl's father and she stated that together they could raise us four kids. This is when Elmer disappeared. Good riddance to bad rubbish! The two girls were later adopted. We never found out who adopted the oldest, Patty. Jackie was adopted by a family with the name of Wooten. This was a bad placement. The Wootens lied to her about her past, had a divorce, and further confused her. She is married now, and lives in Geneva, Ohio. I hope she is happy. She had a bummer of a childhood. Dallie married a girl named Pat who had a boy out of wedlock by someone else. This marriage was doomed from the start but this is Dallie's story and if he wishes, he and Jackie may add an addendum to this tale. Dallie and Pat had four children; Dallie, Jr.; Christopher, Patty, and Victoria before they ended up in divorce. Dallie has since remarried and this looks like it is going to work. I married Patricia Louise Kipp on February 9, 1952. She miscarried a boy in April 1953. Patricia Lynn was born August 12, 1954 and Donna Esther was born on my mother's birthday, October 21, 1956. Another boy, Ronald Francis, was born on January 1, 1961 and passed away on January 8, 1961.

I am a Lieutenant Colonel in the Army Reserve and a General Foreman at Goodyear Aerospace Corporation. Meeting my wife, Pat, was a real turning point in my life, as was my stay in the Children's Home. She has inspired me to do my best. Patricia Lynn Bosley married Timothy Aaron Robertson and they have my granddaughter, Tara Lynn Robertson. Donna Esther married Bruce Beers and have my two grandsons, Raymond Bruce and Michael. I am an extremely happily married man who has been very lucky." (Excerpted from Ramsey by Ronald E. Bosley)

* * *

If Ron shared a large measure of his Taurean nature with Grandma, his persona was uniquely his own. If Grant Lewi's Heaven Knows What is to be believed, it says of Ron, to the closest of my sense of his personality:

"You have a strong, impulsive, passionate nature. You know what you want, and get it. You are self-willed, headstrong, independent, usually getting under way early in life and contriving to resist or break away any chains which anyone tries to throw around you.

You have a highly developed social sense. You are fond of people who must, however, be the right people. You'd rather stay at home with a good book than be bored by dullards or surrounded by people you think are uninteresting or 'declasse'. You are able to get on well enough with all classes for you know how to say the right thing at the right time and this quality of tact in human relations contributes much to your success, which frequently will have to do with a good many people.

You make a good executive, teacher, or lecturer; your manner of expression is forthright and direct and you make your sincerity and decisiveness felt. Your extremely stubborn nature expresses in a flexible manner, and you are able to talk all around Robin Hood's barn at the same time you are driving home your point, sticking to it exactly as you wish.

You have very high principles and will stick to them despite everything. A keen moral sense, both in your personal conduct and in the abstract for truth in its own right, makes you something of a moralist. and you are likely to sit in judgment on your friends and neighbors--though you may never let them know what you think about them. But your thoughts are your own just the same, and for those who transgress the laws of right conduct or fair dealing as you understand them, you have scant tolerance. You are capable of having an important and popular career in anything which deals with the public, for the double influence of Venus gives you a great deal of charm which even your high nervousness cannot dissipate.

You are an actor and derive success and satisfaction through the emotional stimulus from your audience. You get your greatest satisfaction from your spouse. But wherever you go it is your heart-interest in one form or another that counts to you. You are basically constant and fixed in your devotion in your family.

Intensely dramatic, you can be successful as a speaker, for your charm is instantaneous, but your dramatic ability could be used up strutting the stage of whatever little world you move in. You are not critical of your audiences, and get much satisfaction out of a ham audience. This does not mean that you are by any means a ham actor, for you're not--you have the gift. You love a good yarn, and will tell one at the drop of a hat. You are also a good listener, especially if the story being told has a touch of personal interest. You yourself are pretty likely to walk the straight and narrow, and find it pretty pleasant.

You are always a courageous person and despite your tact, when it comes to points of principle, will not mince matters even with The Judge Himself. Here you stick to your guns admirably and tell the world in no uncertain terms what is what. You are reasonable in argument and a fair debater. You can see the other fellow's point of view, answering it point for point without losing sight of your own. Your qualities of magnetism, fair-mindedness, and imagination will lead you to success." (Heaven Knows What by Grant Lewi)

* * *

For the reader who chronicles the accuracy of this sort of thing, Ron's Sun was in Taurus, while his Moon was taken from parts of Scorpio, Libra, and Sagittarius--a great argument for detractors of Astrology.

* * *

I don't want my older brother to leave this earth believing I harbor any ill feelings, resentment, or remorse toward him. Whatever anger I have had has mellowed into the sadness of my loss. When we were kids growing up in Grandma's house, I idolized him. He was my Big Brother. My buddy, my mentor. My protector and my teacher. He was the closest thing to the feeling of having a father I will ever have.

Throughout the years, as he went on to raise a family, and I went on to raise a family, I always looked up to him, believed all that he ever told me without question. I just took it for granted he knew what he was talking about. If I received rebuke, then I had rebuke coming. If I was left waiting or wanting, then I had obviously expected too much. Certainly more than I had a right to. No thought as to what that should be so.

When I came back from serving in the U. S. Air Force in Texas, I was tickled to see him again. Even if he did let our sister slip away before I could get home. With seven and a half years military service under my belt, I felt Ron and I finally had something in common, something we could share. Our first get-together at his home on Hardesty Boulevard (after my discharge) we had Pot Roast. Ron and I engaged in a conversation about the military. We wound up arguing, or at least we would have. had I not let him press his point, and the topic drop.

As the years went by I still felt a curious hero worship -- felt my proudest when he attended my Goodyear Apprenticeship graduation at the Mayflower Hotel in 1967.

During the stormy years of my first marriage, whenever I'd go to Ron's for advice, for support, I always left feeling rebuked and deserted. A cold sense that whatever my problem was, it had to be my fault. Once he said to me, "I don't know why you come here for my advice. You never take it." To which I replied, "I guess I feel that if you don't change my mind, then my judgement seems sound."

During my separation and divorce I turned to him for moral support and got indifference. He didn't want to show favoritism. And he didn't want to get involved.

For many years I didn't know that he viewed me as having "turned my back on my children", because I had to let my home dissolve, did not contest the child custody decision in favor of my children's mother -- and after a year of handing money over to her only to see her spend it on herself while my kids needed clothing and shoes, to watch helplessly as my children were being turned against me -- moved to another state and another life. Ron didn't know and didn't want to know any of the circumstances of my break up. All he knew was that before my breakup, when he was called to my house by "herself' to mediate a tiff, all he could say was, "She loves you, Dallie." I knew that. What I didn't know was how to resolve two monumentally divergent personalities.

Even when I remarried, after seven years as a bachelor, and brought my bride Abbie to meet him, his attitude seemed to be, 'let's see you prove you can make this marriage work'. Abbie wanted a portrait photo of me in uniform that Ron had. He told her that 'after you two have been married for a year, you can have it.' One year later to the day Abbie called for it.

I didn't realize the total inequity of my relationship with him until one night as Abbie and I were returning home from a visit with him. We were in a heated discussion over the atmosphere in his home, the attitudes of his people. I had never realized before that night just how arrogant was his view of me and mine. He almost never asks about my children, his nieces and nephews, or even if any of them are dead. He doesn't want to be involved.

Finally, at the conclusion of an invitation to his home, mostly as support for my sister who hadn't wanted to go, I commented to him that Abbie and I would be leaving early. His sons-in-law were coming, and I didn't like them and didn't appreciate their frequently vulgar manner.

A few days later I received in the mail the most scathing letter I had ever received, in response to my attitude toward the crude regard his sons-in-law showed their wives, and women in general. And it had to be from the man I loved most, next to my sons. We didn't speak for over four years.

During those four years, I reflected constantly on our relationship. First, there was excruciating hurt and total anger. Then mere indifference, angry only when someone commented on his wonderful qualities. Finally I reached a point, still loving him, where the respect for him and belief in him which I had always taken for granted changed. As my sister so eloquently put it, "I loved him, but I didn't like him'.

Our actual reconciliation occurred one Christmas when I sent to him in the mail copies of genealogical family data and a foldout pedigree chart on his predecessors that I had traced. They were his family, and while my interest in the Bosley clan was as it related to Donna, I felt he and his children were entitled to my preliminary research. I included by way of explanation the simple note "because I love you". That's the only reason I had for contacting him. I certainly didn't recant my opinion of his sons-in-law. Perhaps he thought I was conciliatory. He called me on the phone to ask me if I meant it -- that I loved him. As I told him, my affection had never been an issue. As it turned out, he had no interest in the Bosley lineage, and little more in the Davis name, but was quite interested in the Ramsey clan, wanting copies of the documentation.

I know that if and when he reads this, he may well want to exclude me entirely from his life. But he will at least better understand the "kid brother" whose love for him never changed, even if the regard has diminished.

* * *

All my "happy" memories of my brother are of the negative events in our relationship. Even if he did come to my "rescue" when I found myself in trouble with the law as a teen.

In 1946, he was 13, I was seven. Mom was dying in City Hospital, and we had been brought to Grandma's from the orphanage. One night we were wrestling on the bed and Ron started punching me about the head and chest because when he said something to the effect that "what would mom say about that?", my response was, "I don't care what she'd say", at which he started pummeling me.

At Grandma's Sunday table Ron always took the last piece of chicken, so that I came to leave some of my portion untouched on the platter so there would be a last piece for him.

* * *

Grandma would give Ron money for burgers and the movies on a Saturday. I'd get a hamburger (mustard, pickle and onion -- that's how Ron liked them), fries if I insisted, and a coke, or sometimes just water. At the Thornton Theater, I got 15 cents for admission and 10 cents for either candy or popcorn; candy went father. When I turned 13, he'd have me bend my knees and scrunch down to get in at the cheaper rate, until I was just too tall to get away with it.

* * *

There were mudball wars with Denny Waring and neighborhood chums. I wanted to be his lieutenant. He'd always pick one of his chums. All too often, I was a convenient target for the mudball attacks.

* * *

One year with the circus coming to town, although we couldn't afford the price of tickets, he'd promised to come by on Saturday and take me to the circus midway, the Freak Show, because it didn't cost anything. I waited all that Saturday, but he didn't show up. Nor did he mention it until a couple of weeks later, when I asked. He said he was busy that Saturday.

* * *

After he joined the Guard, they were having a recruiting drive. I was a 151/2 -year old Boy Scout, having tried to get into scouting for several years. I could never afford the 50-cent fee. A friend of Grandma's gave me the money, and I had been in scouting for less than a year. Ron recruited me into the Guard, got Grandma to sign a consent form, saying I was seventeen. I gave up the Boy Scouts to be in my brother's outfit. I was proud of him.

* * *

When I graduated from Lincoln elementary school, he coaxed me to apply for his alma mater, Hower High School. "You'll always have a job. There will always be a need for machinists," he'd say. It was a decision I'd hate all my life.

* * *

One Monday night at Hawkins Guard Armory, he confronted me about "peeking" into his and Pat's bedroom, spying on her that morning. We were going to "duke it out." We were going to protect his wife's honor. I wouldn't lift a finger to strike him. He was my brother. So, instead, he pulled his belt off, laid me over the fender of his car, and whipped me a goodly number of lashes. He had to have his satisfaction. Actually, I'd wanted to play hookey from school that day, and I'd looked in their bedroom to see if Pat had gone to her part-time job, or stayed home. She'd stayed home.

* * *

When he was promoted to our squad leader after getting his commission, his job as chief scout was vacant, and I was senior enlisted man in our squad. I expected Ron to nominate me for the promotion. Instead, he recommended one of his chums, Paul Casmar. Overlooked once again.

* * *

There was our adventure when Ron formed his Guard-oriented club, the '107th Recon Raiders', complete with dark trousers, navy pea cap, and dark blue blazers, or sweaters, emblazoned with the group name. Our role was to learn field tactics, where we would split into two groups and head for the closest wooded area to compete. Besides Ron, there was Paul Casmar, the two Rich brothers, me, and one or two others. Ron and Paul were pretty close. Ron headed one group, Paul usually headed the other. We would meet at a wooded area, and one group would take off into the trees to hide while the other group would track them out. The first to spot the other was the "winner."

* * *

One summer Ron decided to have us take a group canoe trip up Summit Canal to the Turkeyfoot Lakes region for a weekend overnighter. There we made camp on a small, secluded island; Spam, French bread, and Colby cheese were our rations.

On Saturday night Ron organized a raiding party on a local youth campground, having us darken down 'commando' style. The idea was to find a cabin, 'swipe' someone's undies, and get away without getting caught. One of us was seen before we got to a cabin and we were chased into the trees. Only 'playing dead' motionless in the grass kept us from being caught and arrested.

That night a youth I had invited along was supposed to pull his turn at camp guard duty, sometime in the wee hours. He fell asleep. At dawn Ron found him asleep, and proceeded to first upbraid him, and then me because I was 'corporal of the guard' and responsible for him. This took place in the presence of the group.

The youth made some disparaging remark directed toward me, something about getting me when we got back to Akron. Naturally, I was expected to uphold my honor in front of the group and Ron by accepting a challenge to fight. I had no taste for a fight, but Ron expected it of me, to show I wasn't a 'chicken'. I fought the kid (and won) because not to would have embarrassed my brother

* * *

There was the letter he wrote me some time in 1960 while I was stationed in Texas, that our long-lost sister Jackie had made contact with him there on Hardesty Boulevard. I was due to be discharged in a few months. I'd get to see my sister after all those years. Several weeks later, another letter came from him. Jackie had gone out and gotten drunk, came home, and vomited on his carpet. This kind of behavior wouldn't be tolerated in his home, for his children to see. He "kicked her out, bag and baggage". I had to wait another twenty years before I'd see my sister again. As far as I was concerned at that time, it would be never. At this writing, they are best buddies again.

* * *

I went to Ron's three times in my life (to my recollection) asking him for help. Before I got and served my apprenticeship, I asked him to help me get into Goodyear Aircraft, where he worked. He sent me to the hiring office. The second time, when I was near bankruptcy, I asked him for a loan, or to help me get a loan. He thought I was a bad risk. Finally, during my separation, I asked for his help, his intercession on behalf of my kids. He didn't want to get involved. He'd been willing to lend an ear when my spouse Patty called him to complain about me, but I guess he thought I ought to be man enough to handle my own affairs. I guess I was.

* * *

Ron discovered he had another half-brother named Ed, who lived in Cleveland. He arranged to take me up to meet him. So far as I know, Ron never called Ed after that one meeting. Ron didn't approve of Ed's lifestyle and his poverty, thought of him as a bum. Ed was Osborne Bosley's son. He died in 1975 at age 36. Ron hadn't known anything about it.

* * *

One of the few times I fished with Ron, I joined him and his friend, Tom Clark at a local lake, boat fishing. Playing one of his typical pranks, he made a fool out of me in front of Tom, and a laughing stock to the family, when he conned me into 'spitting' on my bait as a way of enticing fish to bite. He was pulling fish in every few minutes while I wasn't getting a bite. I asked him what his secret was. When he told me about the 'spitting", I didn't believe him, but he was dead serious, and his friend went along with him. Still not believing him, I tried it once, and by the merest of chance, I got a bite. I continued the exercise, much to Ron's secret amusement. He enjoyed that joke immensely.

* * *

I didn't mind the fun he got out of a practical joke, but he told everyone who would listen about it. At my expense. It never occurred to him that I might not enjoy it as much as he did. He still tells it. The joke was funny, but being his fool wasn't. I suppose I was never willing to take offense at most of these insensitivities, or simply chose not to see them.

* * *

His indignant letter over my 'attitude' toward his in-laws, his accusation that I would 'backbite' his family, was the last straw for me. Whatever the details or the circumstances, the fact that he didn't know me better -- and didn't care to -- opened the eyes of this naive brother who loved him.

* * *

Not all my memories of Ron are bad ones. There was the summer evening a grass fire had started in the vicinity of our backyard when we lived at 885-1/2 South Main Street. I was about three or four years old. Ten-year old Ronnie was apparently trying to help put out the fire, and I couldn't see him in the excitement of arriving firemen. I thought surely he was going to burn up in the fire. I was frantic. He finally showed up after the fire was put out.

* * *

Then the time when we lived on Van Evera in Tallmadge, in the fall, that he took me with him to glean some corn in a local field. I was about six. We didn't know that the farmer had let his bull wander in the field until suddenly bounding through the stalks as if his life depended on it was a panicked Ron, shouting for me to "Run, Dallie, run." He was being chased by the storming bull which got so close to him that a hoof clipped Ron's heel. Once again, I thought I'd lost a brother until he came poking through the trees.

* * *

A couple of times while we lived on Van Evera, Ron and I went horseback riding. Mom would give him fifty cents for both of us, for an hour's ride. No matter which way this six-year old tried to 'steer' the horse, it always went the other way. Once I tried to follow Ron down a small embankment. My horse decided not to follow, and came to an abrupt halt. I kept on going over the horse's head and on down the embankment, scrambling to get to my feet for fear the nag was about to stomp me. It just stood there at the top of the embankment with a disinterested look.

* * *

Ron is godfather to at least two of my kids, but I can count on my fingers the number of times in their lives he has asked about them. Their lifestyles may or may not have been suitable to him, but they are my children, and I love them.

It's my sense that my brother feels that I let my children down, that I abandoned them during my separation from their mother. He made a comment once that I should never have "turned my back on them, that it's the one thing he couldn't forgive a man for." Yet, he has no idea of my conduct toward my children since 1972, or any of our circumstances. He never asked, never indicated he cared one way or the other.

My big brother has demonstrated to me that he has little more respect and regard for me than he has ever had for our grandfather Dallie Davis, or for Osborne Bosley. Certainly, he had none for Elmer Corbin -- and don't mention Bill Vernon in the same breath. We all broke Grandma's cardinal rule of acquiescence toward our women, of "abandoning and deserting" our family responsibilities and obligations. So we are all painted with the same brush. The same color scarlet. Unforgivable. If not for the fact that Ron might care for me as his brother in our childhood travails, with our shared orphanism, I'm confident I would have long ago been dismissed with the same air of disapproval as was his other half brother whom he didn't grow up with -- Ed Bosley.

* * *

I know my brother cares, or he wouldn't have let me know back in 1960 when I was stationed in Texas that our sister Jackie had looked him up and was staying with him. And when Jackie contacted him a second time in 1981, he called me on my birthday to let me know where she was and how to reach her. If Ron has committed any sins against his brother, they are sins of omission. Of grandly taking me and mine for granted. I'm not sure he ever considered I might have an opinion of any consequence, or that any opinion I might have would be based on any grounds of significance. He has been accused of that posture by others who know him.

* * *

"...I can never forget Ron's remark in Ohio to me and Jackie that the difference between you [the author] and him was that you cared and he didn't give a damn. I didn't understand what he was referring to at the time, but I think I do now. But that's alright with me as I'm strong willed, independent, and ask no one for anything, not even love. God provides all for me, so I have no time for ignorance or bitterness." (Excerpt from letter from Pat Corbin Merrell, March 28, 1990)

* * *

Ron is well liked by almost everyone that I know who knows him. He seems highly regarded by co-workers, friends, and neighbors. He is much loved by his family, his daughters and grandchildren. I still love him, and always will. This is the Ronnie I have known all my life. This is all I know of him. This is "Mine Bruder."

The Meadows, Slaughter, Bosley, Corbin, Vernon clan; Ramsey descendants.

* * *