|About 1953, I think....|
Through the magic of the Internet, and with the good fortune to be married to a retired Federal Agent, my very own Mr. T,... who is some kind of a super-whiz at investigations, we finally located him a few months ago in New Orleans. My brother and I have connected through Facebook and are communicating back and forth, getting to know each other again after all of these years. He's a musician living in the French Quarter. He has sent me CD's of his compositions. Really great stuff! He always was a superb musician!
No, I am not an Auntie, I do not have a sister-in-law, but that's just fine with me. I am just happy to have found my Big Brother after all of these years. That's him, in the photo above, standing in the middle. I am seated in his pedal airplane, sitting like a brazen hussy with my leg slung over the side ..., and with my brothers initials, J.P., painted on the side by our father. My bro "flew" all over the neighborhood in his pedal airplane, and he let me channel my inner Amelia Earhart from time to time. I bet that airplane would be worth about a gazillion dollars today!
Who that kid on the right is?... I have no idea. All I see in the photo is me and my big bro.