He was more than a decade older than I, and we’re only half-brothers. (His father left our mother a widow, and then, years later, she married my father.) Yet we were exceptionally close. At least, I think we were; I have no other siblings with which to compare him. He would have been seventy-seven years old today. That’s hard for me to imagine. Of course, for that matter, it’s difficult for me to imagine him as a... Read more