The Sixties

Marty and Tommy

Sixty years ago today I got a brother for his birthday. I was only a kid myself, so I can't remember what it was like before he was born, but I know it was more fun after. Our bedrooms were both in the basement so we stayed up late and talked into the night, even when we were little.

Across the hall from my bedroom there was an unfinished storage area called the Fruit Room. Shelves were stocked with bottled peaches, pears and grape juice. In the corner was an old white wardrobe my mom called Peter (yes Pete, you're named after a cupboard) that held hammers, gardening tools and cans of paint. Boxes of old clothes, a wooden clothes dryer, and potted geraniums sat under the window . . . a window that could be pried open with a car key. One night a loud shot woke us both up. Robbers!

Tom flew into my room and we listened from under my covers. When the second bang blasted, we dashed upstairs for Dad, then followed him back down to watch. Another shot sounded as he cautiously peeked inside. Blood squirted him in the face! He automatically licked his lips . . . wait, it wasn't blood . . . it was homemade root beer. Apparently Dad had over-estimated the fermenting time and the bottles were popping their corks.

That was as close as we came to champagne at our house, but if we'd had some, the corks would have popped that day sixty years ago when my brother was born. Part of the Bagley legacy depended on him—Tom was the only grandkid who would carry our family name into the future.

Tom 1961

But he was prepared.

Tom earned his inheritance by herding cattle in Wyoming, fishing in Idaho, golfing in Hawaii and learning at the U of U. He received his mother's gentle nature, his father's sense of humor, and his sisters' admiration.

Marty, Polly, Jolyn, Tom, 1968

We all looked up to him.
(You can see why.)


Tom and Julie

He married a princess, and, taking the role of heir seriously . . .



. . . they produced a half-dozen kids.
But it took sixty years for Tom to become what he was always meant to be:

Tom and Julie and Jackson

Grandpa Bagley.

"The great secret that all old people share is that you really don't change
over sixty or seventy years.
Your body changes, but you don't change at all.
And that, of course, causes great confusion."
—Doris Lessing

Don't be confused, T. You'll always be my little brother.
Happy Birthday!